Find You in the Dark

hair fell into his face, creating a curtain.
    I felt his lips move against my cheek as he struggled to speak. I leaned down and put my ear right in front of his lips. “Sorry. So, so sorry.” He said, over and over again.
    His words just made the tears come faster. So I sat there, on the nasty bathroom floor in the middle of nowhere, holding my dying boyfriend as I told him repeatedly how much I loved him and needed him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

    Finally, the ambulance arrived and everything moved way too fast after that. I was pretty much shoved out of the bathroom as the EMTs took over. They made me leave the motel room and wait outside while they treated Clay. I gnawed at the skin of my lips and paced back and forth in front of the door.
    After five minutes or so, the three EMTs came out with Clay on a stretcher. I noticed they had bandaged his wrists with gauze. I could tell he had lost consciousness. Two of the medics loaded Clay into the back of the ambulance while the third turned to me.
    “You're the girlfriend?” He asked. He was a large guy with kind eyes. I nodded. “You can get in the back with him. I need to get some information on our way to the hospital.” I jumped up into the back and took a seat beside Clay's motionless form. He was so pale and still that he looked dead already. “Will he be alright?” I asked the EMTs as they hooked Clay up to a million monitors and read out numbers that were meaningless to me.
    I heard the siren turn on and we sped away at a lightening pace. The medic with the kind eyes looked at me sympathetically. “It's too soon to say. He lost a lot of blood. How did this happen?” And I just unloaded it all. I told the two EMTs about Clay's history. His previous hospitalizations as well as his unwillingness to stay on medication. I told them about his erratic moods and even about his family life. I wanted them to have a complete history. Hell, I'd tell them about his childhood fear of the dark and the fact he hated brussel sprouts if I thought it would help. The man and woman medics alternated asking several questions pertaining to Clay's medication and how long he had been off of it but other than that, they just listened.
    Once we got to the Emergency Room of the local hospital, everything was a blur. Doctors and nurses came as soon as we arrived and whisked Clay away. I tried to follow but, because I wasn't family, I wasn't permitted to go in the back with him. A nurse brought me some soap and a towel and showed me where the bathrooms were. I thought that was quite odd until I got a full on look at myself in the mirror. Oh my god, I looked like I had just survived the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
    Blood was caked on my face and neck. My jeans were almost black from the knees down with dried blood. My hands were coated with the sticky, flaky stuff and I had to dig it out from underneath my fingernails. I used the soap to wash my skin and then I tried sticking my head beneath the faucet so I could rinse my hair. I felt sick at the sight of the pink water as it swirled down the drain. Thinking that was Clay's life gurgling down into the pipes.
    When I was finished, I went back to the front desk where I was directed to the waiting room. I joined twenty other people as I sat in my own personal hell. I alternated between pacing the floor, and hounding the nurses about Clay's status. They never had much to tell me.
    Finally around 5:30 in the morning, a nurse came out and called my name. I had been crunched up in the most uncomfortable chair on the planet for the last hour, and I thought my back would break from the crazy position I had put myself in. I jumped to my feet and rushed over to her.
    “I'm Maggie Young.” I said a little breathlessly. The nurse gave me a once over. “You're Clayton Reed's girlfriend?” She asked. “Yes. That's me.” The nurse put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me off to the side. “We need to get in contact with Clay's parents. They have to be notified. Do you have a way to reach them?” I started to protest, knowing Clay would hate that. But the nurse, whose name badge read Kelly Burke, RPN, cut me off.
    “Maggie. He is a minor. We have to notify his family of his condition.” I felt the tears spill down my cheeks. “Can you please just tell me how he's doing? I'll give you the number. I just need to know what's going on. Please tell me if he's gonna be okay.” I pleaded with her. I saw Nurse Burke waver. “I'm not permitted to