Saved by an Angel

by Roberta Capizzi

  I had a silly grin plastered on my face from the moment I left Claire till the moment I got into bed. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

  Little did I know I was just about to experience the worst twenty-four hours of my life.

  The scene looked familiar, as if I’d been there before. I was on the sidewalk opposite the aquarium, looking around at the people on the street. I knew I was looking for someone, but I didn’t know whom, so I just stared at the faces of the people passing me by without really even seeing any of them. It was just like one of those horror movies where people don’t have faces—they only have empty heads with no eyes, nose or mouth.

  I cringed and turned around, watching as cars rounded the roundabout, and it was then I saw her: the only person with a face, a beautiful face too. She was wearing a knit hat but there was no mistaking the distinctive ginger locks escaping from it. I narrowed my eyes, and then it hit me.

  I knew her.

  I’d know her anywhere.

  Claire.

  The sense of déjà vu hit me hard, squeezing my chest and almost choking me. I’d been here before, on this same cloudy day, at this time of day, and I’d seen that same woman with the red hat, the same kid with the blue baseball cap, the same man with the moustache and the beer belly.

  I turned to look at Claire and I raised my hand, waving it in the air to catch her attention. She was in jogging attire, with tight leggings and a hoodie, and my eyes lingered on her for a while, enjoying the sight of her beautiful body, which was usually hidden beneath professional and serious clothing.

  She didn’t hear me calling her name, so I started walking toward her while she waited by the pedestrian crossing for the cars to stop. As I got closer to her, I noticed she had earplugs connected to an MP3 player that was hanging from a belt around her slim waist.

  I was only a few feet away when wheels screeched on the pavement. It all happened in slow motion and I tried to scream, to tell her to get out of the way, but I made no sound, no matter how hard I tried. My feet were glued to the ground; I tried to reach for her, but I couldn’t move.

  The car spun a couple of times and I watched helplessly as it hit her, sending her flying ten feet away where she landed on the concrete, a pool of blood quickly forming all around her.

  I screamed louder and louder, and it was then I recognized the scene I’d already lived before. People crying all around me, shaking their heads and saying what a tragedy it was, sirens wailing in the distance, getting closer to where I stood glued to the ground, unable to reach Claire and make sure she was still breathing.

  And then a bright light appeared to my right. I turned and even though it should’ve blinded me, I didn’t even squint at the sight. I stared and saw a person coming out of that glare and walking toward me. It was a man, all dressed in white, his clothes refracting the light and making him glow as if he were actually made of that same warm luminosity. As he came closer, I recognized his features: his tall frame, his short, brown hair, his blue eyes and, lastly, his trademark broad grin.

  Declan.

  My eyes filled with tears as I stared at my brother, and my vision blurred. He kept walking and was only a foot away when he reached out and touched my shoulder. Instantly, my whole body filled with warmth and something that very much resembled peace, and I was finally able to move my feet.

  “Deco,” I said, glad that my voice was back. “Am I dead? Are we all dead?”

  My brother shook his head and smiled. I didn’t recall ever seeing his face so peaceful and content, and somehow it filled my heart with joy. He was happy where he was—there was no doubt.

  “Wake up, David. You need to go find her.”

  My brow furrowed, and he tilted his head to my left where Claire was lying on the pavement. I remembered what had just happened, and made a move to reach her but he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. When I turned around, he shook his head.

  “This was only a clue; it’s not real. But it will be, if you don’t hurry. You can save her, little brother. She needs you, and you need her in your life.”

  “Is this why things went wrong with Michelle? Because everything happens for a reason, and Claire’s mine?”

  Declan smiled. Apart from the pictures scattered around the house, I hadn’t seen his smile since the night before the accident. I’d missed it—girlish as it seemed, I’d missed seeing my brother smile.

  “Michelle helped you forget your pain for a while, just until Claire could come into your life.”

  It all made sense now. The nightmares had started shortly before Claire and I met, and they shook my foundations, making me doubt my feelings for Michelle and her feelings for me. I looked into Declan’s eyes and nostalgia hit me square in the chest, making me gasp. I missed my brother and our camaraderie. I missed our jokes and our chats.

  “Will I see you again?”

  He tilted his head to the side, and even though he was smiling, this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I’ll always be around, Dave. We’ll meet again when the time is right.”

  My eyes fluttered open and I sat upright, nauseated and dizzy. The digital clock on my nightstand read 10:15. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. Realization hit me a second later and my blood turned cold, as adrenaline coursed through my veins. I tossed away the blanket, reached for my discarded clothes from last night, which I’d dropped on the chair by the desk, and hopped out of my room while zipping up my jeans, with my sneakers still unlaced. I almost tripped over one of the laces on my way out, and heard my mother asking me what was wrong as she saw me dashing out the door. I didn’t stop to tell her where I was headed; I didn’t have time—Claire didn’t have time.

  I got in the car and looked for her number in the list of incoming calls. I’d been so euphoric after our near kiss last night, I’d forgotten to save it. I was grateful she hadn’t enabled the block ID function on her phone, since I’d been so stupid and never asked her for her number before.

  The monotony of the dial tone made me want to throw up, and I kept chanting, “Please, pick up,” with each beep coming from the speaker. At the twentieth ring I slammed my palms on the steering wheel as I realized she wasn’t going to answer.

  On the drive to the other side of the town where Claire lived, all kinds of scenarios flashed through my mind. There was no way I’d lose her now that I’d found her, now that I’d finally been able to open my heart to someone and let her in. A heavy weight settled on my chest, my heart slamming against my ribcage as the images from the dream flashed in front of my eyes. I pressed down on the accelerator without caring about the speeding ticket I’d most probably be getting. Claire was more important than any stupid ticket—they could even take my driver’s license, I couldn’t care less right now, as long as I could get there in time.

  When I reached Salthill, which had always been the setting of the dream, I parked haphazardly in the first spot I found, and jumped out of the car, nearly falling face down in my haste. I ran along the promenade, past the roundabout, earning a few stares from passers-by. I saw the woman with the red hat, the teenager with the baseball cap, and the man with the moustache and the beer belly. My head started to spin. The dream was coming true. I needed to find Claire. I needed to save her.

  I looked around, frantically turning my head from left to right, so fast it gave me whiplash. When I finally spotted her standing at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the light to turn green, I screamed her name, making a few heads turn. She didn’t hear me—of course she couldn’t hear me: in my dream she’d been listening to her MP3 player, so I was sure she was now too. I ran toward her, and from the corner of my eye I saw the silver car, the one that had hit her in my nightmare. My heart stopped the moment I saw the car skidding on the patch of ice and spin out, just like I knew it would.

  I screamed her name again, and with one quick dash I reached her just before the light turned green and she could cross the street. I flung myself
at her, wrapped her in my arms and pushed her away from the intersection. Claire didn’t have time to understand what was going on as we fell to the hard concrete just seconds before the car hit the traffic light, only a couple of feet away from us. She barely had time to let out a gasp of surprise before we crashed to the ground.

  A searing pain shot up from my wrist all along my arm when Claire fell on my hand with all of her weight, but I ignored it as I tried to prevent her from hitting the concrete. In spite of my efforts, though, I heard the thud of Claire’s head hitting the cement and my heart broke. The rest of the world disappeared as the warmth of blood spread on my hand, the one that was still holding her head although it hadn’t managed to protect it from the hard concrete.

  “Claire? Claire!” I pulled her close to me, my face next to hers as I tried to wake her. People gathered around us as I held her limp body in my arms, her face pale as blood oozed from a gash on the back of her head.

  Somebody said the ambulance was on the way.

  Someone else said what a tragedy it would’ve been if I hadn’t pushed the girl away from the intersection.

  A man, probably the driver, kept apologizing for what had happened, saying he’d lost control of the car once it hit the patch of ice.

  I could barely hear their voices as I kept whispering in her ear, hoping she could hear me. “Stay with me, Claire. Please, baby, stay with me.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I didn’t bother fighting them back. I didn’t care that people around us would see me, a grown man, cry like a baby. When the first sob escaped my mouth, I pulled Claire’s body closer to my chest and kept begging her to not leave me, to open her eyes and tell me she was fine.

  Gentle arms pulled me back by the shoulders, and I gripped Claire’s body tighter, even though the movement caused a jolt of pain to shoot up my arm.

  “It’s okay, we’ll take care of her now.” A female voice came from behind me, and as I turned I noticed that the paramedics had arrived. I hadn’t even heard the siren approaching.

  “I tried to protect her; I swear I tried. I wasn’t fast enough.” I sniffled, looking at the paramedic through blurred vision as I released my death-grip on Claire’s body, letting the other two paramedics do their job. The young woman, who could probably be only a few years older than me, smiled politely and reached for my hand. As soon as she touched my wrist, I winced in pain.

  “Here, let me check your wrist. It’s swelling.”

  My own wellbeing was the last thing I cared about right now. They could cut off my arm, and I wouldn’t flinch if that would save Claire.

  “I feel the pulse. It’s weak; we should hurry.”

  I whipped my head toward the paramedic who’d spoken behind me, and saw he and his colleague were loading Claire onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask on her pretty face and a collar around her neck.

  The female paramedic asked me if I was hurt or feeling dizzy, then called to one of the guys to bring a stretcher and another neck collar.

  I put a hand on her forearm and shook my head. “I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt. I just want to be with Claire. Can I ride in the ambulance with her?”

  The paramedic shook her head but smiled to try and sweeten the blow when she saw me grimace at her rejection. “We’ll have to ride in another ambulance, but we’ll be right behind them.”

  She stood up, and gently pulled me to my feet. My legs were shaking, and I barely managed to stand up straight, leaning against her. One of her colleagues helped me get into the back of the second ambulance, and I felt like a puppet in the hands of a puppeteer. I was dumbfounded and had no control of my limbs. I just kept my unfocused gaze on the inner walls of the ambulance, wondering if Claire had woken up and wishing the driver would hurry the hell up, so I could get out of this damn vehicle and be with her. When I refused to lie on the stretcher, the female paramedic sat beside me on the bench, and I flinched when she touched my wrist.

  “This doesn’t look good; I think it’s broken.” She shook her head and, after fetching something from her bag, she turned back to me and immobilized my forearm with a splint. “Try not to move your hand. Here, use this cushion for support.”

  She gently lifted my arm, and placed a square, light blue cushion underneath it, then placed my arm on top of the stretcher in front of me.

  “She’ll be okay, right? She’s not going to die, is she?” I looked into the paramedic’s blue eyes, and she smiled.

  “It’ll be up to the doctors to confirm her situation, but she’s still breathing so that’s a good sign.”

  “I can’t lose her. I haven’t even told her I love her.” My voice wobbled, and fresh tears spilled over and stained my cheeks. I grimaced as the paramedic wrapped my wrist tightly.

  “Let’s take care of you now so once she wakes up you can tell her how you feel.”

  I nodded, and let the woman do all the check-ups she needed to carry out on me. She checked my blood pressure, pointed a pocket light into my eyes and asked me a few questions over the noise of the wailing siren, to which I replied like a robot, my mind fixed on Claire.

  The ride to the hospital seemed to last ages, even though I knew it only took all of five minutes to get to the University Hospital speeding through town. When the ambulance doors opened, I saw the male paramedic jump out of the other vehicle and the driver came around to help him unload the stretcher. I made a move to follow them, to follow Claire and make sure she’d be all right, but the female paramedic stopped me.

  “You’re not going with her. You need to get checked by a doctor, too.”

  I shook my head like the stubborn ass I was, and the movement caused me to feel dizzy. My vision blurred as a sense of nausea took hold of me. I leaned against the ambulance, and the paramedic’s hands reached out for me.

  “Don’t be silly. She’ll need to know you’re okay when she wakes up.” Her tone was gentle, but very no-nonsense at the same time. I’d bet she was a badass paramedic among all her male colleagues.

  A doctor came out of the sliding glass doors toward us, pushing a wheelchair. I was just about to say I didn’t need that, when the paramedic forced me down into it. Yes, badass indeed.

  My head spun as the doctor wheeled me inside the hospital while the paramedic informed him about my vitals and the other medical information he needed to know. I barely noticed what they did to me once I was transferred into an examination room.

  I got checked by doctors, orthopedists, nurses, neurologists, and a whole team of strangers who poked and prodded me, asking me stupid questions like what day it was and who the president was.

  After a complete check-up, including an MRI and X-rays, they confirmed that my wrist was broken but everything else was fine, which should have made me happy. Instead, the news left me next to indifferent. I didn’t care that I’d been lucky I didn’t have a concussion or internal bleeding—I just wanted them to stop fussing about me and take me to where Claire was.

  The pain I felt when they fixed my broken bone and put my wrist and hand in a cast was nothing compared to the pain that stabbed my heart when nobody bothered to tell me how Claire was feeling all the ten times I asked.

  When they finally gave me the thumbs up and told me I could go, I planted my feet firmly in the threshold and stopped anyone from going out unless they told me what was going on with Claire. A middle-aged nurse took pity on me, and approached me wearing a condescending smile, one of those my mother used to put on when we were kids and were being stubborn.

  “Are you family?” she asked in a no-nonsense tone. I swallowed, as a cold shiver ran down my spine. Damn, I hadn’t thought about any of the stupid hospital rules. Well, I had to give it a try and hope she’d buy it.

  “I’m her boyfriend,” I managed to say, past the lump in my throat. The word sounded sweet on my lips, and it warmed my heart. I really wanted to be that for her. “She’s no family left. I’m all she’s got so I guess that must make me her next of kin. Please, I need to know how she is.”


  My voice cracked and it made the nurse’s gray eyes soften.

  “All right, let me just check and I’ll update you on her condition.”

  She gently led me to a set of plastic chairs in the corridor just outside the examination room, and when I refused to sit she raised an eyebrow and put her fisted hands on her hips.

  “Now, young man, don’t force me to give you a shot of sedatives to keep you quiet. Sit down and wait here till I come back with some news.”

  The nurse returned five minutes later, and she smiled reassuringly when she saw me inspecting her face to understand whether she had good or bad news about Claire. My shoulders relaxed as I realized that she wasn’t going to deliver bad news—she wouldn’t have smiled otherwise, right?

  She took a seat next to me, and I instinctively tensed as I braced myself for what she was about to tell me. “She’s still unconscious. They’ve carried out a few tests, including a brain scan. They found a small subdural hematoma—clotting blood that’s putting pressure onto her brain. They’re keeping her in an induced coma for a few hours to see if the swelling will spontaneously reduce or surgery will be needed.”

  An ice-cold shiver ran down my spine as a heavy rock settled on my heart. Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t lose her now that I’d found her. Kathy said that Declan had told her everything happened for a reason; I wished I could have a few words with my brother now, and ask him what the reason was for making me fall in love with this girl and then taking her away from me before I’d even had the chance to tell her how I felt.

  “If it were serious, the doctors would’ve operated on her brain already. If they’ve decided to wait, it means they’re confident she’ll be okay.” The nurse patted a big hand on my back, and even though she meant to be comforting it only made me feel worse. “There’s nothing you can do but wait and pray now. Don’t lose hope.”

  My phone vibrated in the pocket of my coat, jarring me out of my troubled thoughts and tragic scenarios. I pulled it out and noticed four missed calls from my mother, and three messages from Maggie and another couple of missed calls from her. As I was reading the first message “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? Mum is worried sick. Call us ASAP!” the phone rang again, and I picked up, only to get my eardrum pierced by Maggie calling me a variety of names and adjectives.