It Didn't Stick

            As I walk through the hallway, making my way to English class, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I duck into the bathroom and check the caller ID. Mom.

            “Mom, I’m at school. What do you want?”

            “It’s Wyatt, honey. He’s… he’s been hit by a car,” she says.

            “Look, Mom, I really can’t deal with this right now. This is a lame joke and you shouldn’t have called me during school,” I reply and hang up, walking to my English classroom’s door. AS I enter, I realize that Wyatt isn’t here yet. Was she telling the truth? No, no. He’s probably just late. He always comes in right as the bell rings anyway. He’s fine. The bell rings and Wyatt still isn’t here.

            There’s a knock on the door and I sigh, thankful he’s shown up. But it isn’t Wyatt. It’s the guidance counselor, Ms. Reyes. She talks to Mrs. Teller for a few seconds and then leaves the classroom.

            “Teagan, would you step outside to talk to Ms. Reyes for a second?” she asks me. I nod and exit the room. Ms. Reyes takes my arm and leads me to her office.

            “Teagan, I understand you are really good friends with Wyatt Ashworth,” I nod, “On his way to school this morning, a car hit him on the sidewalk. He’s in St. Mary’s Hospital…in a coma. The doctors don’t think he will make it. I’m giving you an attendance pass for the rest of the day so you can visit him.”

            “Teagan?”

            “Are you okay, Teagan.”

            “I’m fine,” I say, walking slowly out of the door with the pass. I go into the office and hand it to the attendance monitor and she opens the door for me to leave. I get in my car and drive to the hospital. My eyes are dry and I feel… nothing. I feel completely numb.

            I enter the hospital and ask for Wyatt. I tell them my name and see I’ve been included under the ‘Family’ section as a cousin. The nurse tells me he’s in room 212 and I jog down the corridor to find him. I’m losing control now. My eyes sting and my face is getting hot.

            I reach the room and my eyes drift to Wyatt. He looks asleep and normal until my gaze falls onto his legs. One of them in suspended in a cast. I take a closer look at his face and see scratches from where he must have skid his face on the concrete when knocked off his bike. I walk over to him but a nurse pushes past me to shine a light into his closed eyes. He doesn’t wake up or even move. She’s just about to leave the room when the heart monitor starts beeping slower…and slower… and slower. The nurse yells for help and other nurses and doctors gather around. They push on his chest and his head bounces up and down with the force. His parents are in the room and his mom has her head buried in her husband’s chest.

            The heart monitor gives a long final beep before the nurses unplug it.

            “I’m sorry,” one of the doctors says. His parents run over to him and his mother kisses him over and over while his dad rubs his head, ruffling his hair. His mom steps back, allowing me to be next to him. One of my tears falls onto his hospital gown, turning the light blue into a darker shade. I grab his hand and I can feel something. Is it a pulse? The heart monitor doesn’t show heart rate. As I continue to hold his hand, the pulse quickens. The heart monitor is now beeping slowly.

            “Nurse!” I yell. The same nurse that pushed me earlier comes into the room. She shines the light in his eyes this again but this time he grabs it and shoves it away from him. He blinks harshly and smiles when he sees his parents and me.

            “Hey Mom, Dad, Tea.”

            His mom screams with joy and hugs his father tightly. I rush over to him again.

            “You were dead. Like, actually dead. No heart rate or anything, Wyatt. You were dead,” I say to him.

            “Yeah, well I guess it didn’t stick,” he responds. I smile and he turns toward his parents. “Can I get a car now, Mom?” She nods her head, unable to speak. Her hands are shaking and his father holds her closer.

            “You did not get hit by a car just so you could get your Jeep,” I whisper to him.

            “Of course not, Tea,” he says and winks.

Reviews

[Norbanus]

I tried my best to find something to find fault with in this delightfully told yarn, but I failed miserably.

Or...maybe I just couldn't see them through the tears.

[barleygirl]

When telling about something as dramatic as this, there's no need to dress up one's writing with anything fancy . . . and here you've just told the story in a linear way, detail by detail, which has a more chilling effect than it would if you were trying to be dramatic. This feels true-to-life, but knowing you & your excellent way of picturing different life situations in realistic words, I am guessing you made this up. (I hope so!) I very much enjoyed the funny answer at the end "I guess it didn't stick" -- hilarious relief at the end of a tense tale! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Quinn W]

Thank you! And you're right, this isn't a true story.