So many details and so much trivia had filled my mind that morning. But the one niggling thought that had any real significance was the one I’d chosen to ignore. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and looking back now, I am still conscious of the gut feeling that had tried to take hold. I’m sure it had been a warning, but too caught up in the events ahead, I’d pushed it completely away.
And then, only a short time later, it was too late.
The passing of time…
Just parked the car. Heading over now xx
As soon as I received his text, I raced from the shops where I was idly browsing for his present. I had found a few perfect options and was thrilled that I may have actually solved the problem of finding an ideal present; one that I knew he would love. And then I heard the familiar sound from my phone alerting me to his message.
Racing towards our pre-arranged meeting place which was in a different shopping complex across the road, I was held up by the parents of a friend from school and I was forced to stop and chat in order to be polite. But after a very quick conversation, I excused myself and made my way hurriedly through the center, in the hope that I hadn’t kept him waiting.
When I reached the exit, I spotted him amongst the pedestrians crossing to the other side of the street. All I caught was a glimpse, but I recognized him immediately. His tall muscular physique and the toss of his tousled and sun streaked hair as he made his way across the road, was instantly recognizable. And just the mere sight of him caused my skin to tingle. I could feel the smile erupt on my face, the delight at knowing he was on his way to meet me, rapidly filling me with joy.
“Ky!” I called excitedly, as soon as I glimpsed his familiar figure.
“Ky!” I repeated once more.
At the sound of his name being called, he stopped for a moment and looked around, the surrounding crowd continuing on their way. It was probably only a second or two, but that was all it had taken for the roadway to be cleared. Cleared of everyone that was, except Ky.
Turning back towards the sound of my voice, he paused momentarily, taking time to wave in recognition. And instantly, that wonderful, beautiful, mesmerizing smile of his had appeared.
Only to be whisked quickly away.
It was like the scene of a movie unraveling before my very eyes, except that for some strange reason, it appeared to be happening in slow motion. Almost as though I were viewing it one frame at a time.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. Time passed by the way it usually does, but at that one crucial moment, when it all took place, time appeared to slip by ever so slowly. And as I stood on the edge of the sidewalk watching the scene in front of me unfold, it seemed as though that mysterious concept called time, decided to abruptly stand still.
The car that hit him had come from nowhere. Almost out of thin air, it had appeared. And then it was gone. The only evidence of an accident was Ky’s body lying lifeless on the ground.
That’s how it happened. And it was all my fault.
That very scene flashed vividly through my thoughts. Over and over and over.
And I was convinced it would be etched on my mind forever.
Fear…
I held his hand all the way to the hospital.
“Please Ky!” I sobbed. “Please be okay!”
The paramedics in the ambulance tried to console me.
“He’s still breathing,” the lady said. “Just hold his hand and let him know you’re here.”
“No, no, no, no,” the words inside me screamed. “This can’t be happening!”
But it was happening and I was left waiting. Waiting to hear some news. Any news. And desperately hoping that he would be okay.
As I paced the hospital waiting room, I dreaded the sight of his grandmother appearing before me, knowing full well that she would surely not be far away. The nurse had finally managed to track her down and I could only imagine her absolute horror at the news of Ky’s accident, as soon as she heard.
How could I face her? How could I admit that I was to blame?
If only I hadn’t called out to him. If only I hadn’t insisted that he meet me. If only I had simply gone shopping on my own.
Sick with dread, I waited anxiously for her arrival, expecting her to be there at any moment.
As I continued to pace, I looked frantically around for a doctor, a nurse, anyone who could tell me what was going on.
“As soon as we know how he is, we will tell you.” The nurse had attempted to reassure me with soothing words, as she ushered me into the waiting room, giving me strict instructions to stay there. But an hour later, still with no news, I was on the verge of hysteria.
Blame…
When I saw her face, I was overwhelmed with pity. That beautiful old lady. She had so much to worry about already, with a young grandson suffering autism and now she was lumbered with this.
Why was life so unfair? Why did some people have to deal with so much while others seemed to breeze through their existence? It just wasn’t right.
“Mrs. Roberston!” I called, as soon as I saw her heading in my direction.
Standing up from the seat where I’d been waiting alone, I raced towards her and it was then that the tears I’d been holding back, burst quickly forth.
Like a dam that had abruptly broken its banks, my sadness and despair flowed freely onto her shoulder as she hugged me tightly.
“He’s in a coma!” I sobbed, barely able to speak the words that she needed to hear. “Oh, Mrs. Roberston. It’s all my fault!”
She faltered then, and took a step back, shaking her head in confusion. I could see that she had not comprehended a word.
“What do you mean, Julia? And where is he? I want to see him.”
Brushing me aside, she made her way quickly towards the nurses’ station, demanding to see Ky and to be informed of the details.
“Where’s his doctor?” she asked sharply. “Please can you find him? I want to know what’s going on. Please hurry. I need to see the doctor. And I need to see my grandson!”
A look of understanding appeared on the nurse’s face as she led Ky’s grandmother towards the room where he lay. But all I could do was stand by and watch.
As I stared at her forlorn figure heading down the hallway towards his room, I heard the distinctive blip of a Facebook message alerting me to my phone. At first I was tempted to ignore it. I did not want to speak to anyone, not even by text or messenger. All I wanted was to run away, escape to another place, where Ky and I could begin our day again. Start over so that I could see his beautiful smile once more and feel the touch of his hand in mine.
But instead, all I was faced with was the sight of doctors and nurses and the love of my life laying deathly still in a hospital bed. The tubes and life support machines stood like ugly sentinels on guard at his side; an instant reminder of the tragic accident just a short time earlier.
The persistent blip of my phone forced me to pull it from my pocket, anything to stop that irritating sound. I would turn it off if need be. I just wanted to be left alone.
A quick glance at the screen highlighted Millie’s name.
Millie. The reason for the continuous messages right then and also the reason why Ky and I both happened to be at the shopping center in the first place.
Deep down, I was fully aware she had nothing to do with what had happened. She was just an innocent piece of the puzzle that had so wrongly been put together. But I could not help my feelings. I was overcome with sorrow and guilt and despair. And I needed someone to blame.
Ignoring her message completely, I shoved the phone roughly back into my pocket.
Millie was the last person I wanted to speak to.
Ky needed me. And nothing else mattered.
Guilt…
As I sat by his bedside later that evening, I felt drained beyond comprehension. I’d cried so much already that I seemed to have no tears left to cry. And, turning down all offers of food from the nurses who kept appearing in order to monitor the
various machines, I also rejected all suggestions to go home and rest. I was adamant that I would not leave, not until he woke up and I knew that he was okay. Until that moment, I vowed that I would remain right there and that nobody was going to make me do otherwise.
His grandmother had left a short time earlier. She had another grandson who also needed care, and I’d promised to call her immediately if there was any change in his condition.
With my head resting on the back of the padded chair that sat in the corner of the room, I closed my eyes for a moment; but instantly, the memory of that morning appeared. Vivid and abrupt, the scenes played out one at a time as I recalled every second that led to the sight of his body laying lifeless on the road in front of me.
And then, my thoughts abruptly switched to the scene I had interrupted just an hour ago, when I returned from the bathroom to discover two police officers, deep in conversation with Mrs. Robertson. I had caught them mid-sentence and stood quietly at the doorway to listen in on what they were saying.
“It was a hit and run,” one of the policemen explained, the compassion clear in his voice. “But a quick thinking eye-witness took a photo of the driver’s number plate and we were able to locate him a short time later.”
“After some investigation, we managed to determine that he’d been texting on his phone, and had driven straight through a red light. When he realized he’d hit someone, instead of stopping he just kept driving.”
With nausea churning in the pit of my stomach and threatening to explode, I stared speechless at the officer. He then turned abruptly in my direction, the sound of the audible gasp that had escaped my lips, catching his attention.
Glancing towards Ky and then to his grandmother, I could see that she too was overcome, her face white with shock as she sat beside his bed, her mouth open wide in horror and grief.
“The driver is a 19 year old male, who apparently was texting his girlfriend at the time, to tell her he was going to be late,” the other policeman continued, the disgust in his tone so noticeable, I could almost feel it.
“He’s now in custody and will definitely be facing a jail sentence. It’s an absolute disgrace that accidents like this happen because irresponsible drivers are using mobile phones. And to be texting while driving is sheer stupidity!”
Recalling their words only caused my stomach to churn once again, the bile rising to my throat as I pictured that driver, his identity unknown to me and his face a blank. In my mind’s eye, I could see the phone in his hand while he sped through the intersection and ran down the innocent person who just happened to be on the crossing at that very moment.
But that innocent person was not some random pedestrian, one who I later pitied and felt sorry for, after hearing the evening news. By some bizarre quirk of fate, it was Ky who’d been hit and left lifeless on the road, as if simply a piece of discarded rubbish, overlooked and unwanted.
The police officers’ compassionate expressions and sympathetic words only added to the feeling of despair that suffocated the room as we sat by Ky’s bedside, too overcome with emotion to speak. And then they had left, unwilling or unable to stay any longer.
That was when my gaze fell once more upon Ky’s beautiful face, and I was forced to voice the thought that had been at the forefront of my mind from the beginning. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t distracted him, he would have already crossed safely to the other side of the road, and he wouldn’t be laying here now!”
Regardless of what the police had said, I could not overcome the guilt I was feeling and I stared in desperation at his grandmother.
“Julia, you heard the officers.” She was adamant in her response, her tone firm and unwavering.
“You can’t blame yourself for this! The driver is the guilty one, not you. And what we must focus on right now, is a full recovery. Ky needs you to be strong, Julia. Be strong for him and I’m sure he’ll come back to us.”
Although I could clearly see the logic and sense in her words, it contradicted so intensely with my guilt, and I was convinced that remorse would always maintain a prime position in the recesses of my mind.
But I looked at her then, the authority in her voice and the words she was saying making their way slowly through to my subconscious, the place where all my hidden thoughts and deepest regrets lay. And I could feel the battle there, taking place while I stared back at her in an attempt to believe that what she’d said was true...it wasn’t my fault.
And with a determined sigh, I forced a switch in my brain, which in turn forced her message to finally hit home. Ky’s recovery was what mattered, not my feelings of self-pity or guilt. As she had said, I needed to focus my strength on his recovery. That was all that counted.
But regardless of my thoughts and emotions or any level of determination on my part, his recovery was something the doctors said only time would tell. Time and prayers and hope and faith. And as I sat there, the minutes ticking by and the beeping sound of the machines attached to his body keeping a regular hypnotic rhythm, I prayed. From the depths of my soul, I begged God to bring Ky back to us.
With tears streaming from my eyes once more, I reached for his hand and whispered to the boy I loved.
“Please Ky. Please get better.”
Unexpected…
The next morning, there was still no change. I’d awoken stiff and sore, after eventually falling asleep in the armchair in the corner of the room. And everything appeared exactly as it was the evening before. The machines continued to beep, the nurses continued to monitor the screens and the doctors continued to check on Ky’s condition. But it was all to no avail. He remained in a coma and we were still at the mercy of time.
“It’s a waiting game,” the doctor had said, on his last visit. “All we can do is wait and see.” And then he had left the room.
Sighing deeply, I focused on Ky once again. Overwhelmed by frustration and concern I sat holding his hand, at a loss for what to do. My brother had visited the night before, worried about me and anxious about Ky. But I was so glad to have his support. I’d received several text messages from him during the night as well, asking for updates and if there was anything he could do. While I was extremely grateful, the one thing I so desperately wanted and needed, he had no control over. That was all up to Ky.
When Mrs. Robertson arrived later that morning, after leaving Ky’s brother, Tyler once more in the care of a neighbor, I could see that she had also slept very little. The concern was etched on her face and her eyes were clouded with worry as she stared at her grandson, laying so still in the bed beside her.
After exchanging a few words, I decided to take advantage of her arrival and excuse myself so that I could use the bathroom and get some much needed fresh air. I desperately wanted to clear my head and walked quickly towards the elevator that led to the floor below and the exit doors for the outside world.
Heading slowly towards the foyer, I held my head down, deep in thought. The next day was a school day but how on earth was I going to go back to my normal life?
It did not seem possible. I did not know how I could ever manage to do that. It was beyond comprehension and I shook my head, unable to come to terms with the idea. My world could not go on as before, not while he remained in hospital, comatose and lifeless. To even contemplate such a thought seemed too cruel.
As the thoughts swirled around and around in my mind, I looked up momentarily; the sound of the electric doors ahead opening wide, and the loud traffic noise from the street beyond, assaulting the quiet space around me. The sound had caught my attention, and I took a quick glance before looking back down at the floor once more. But the vision I’d been confronted with, caused an abrupt double take and I stared in disbelief at the sight of the familiar figure walking towards me.
Although somewhat changed in appearance, with flowing long hair that framed her beautiful face and highlighted the healthy glow of her suntanned skin, her eyes and facial features were still the same. And I knew in a heartbeat that I wo
uld recognize that girl anywhere.
Focus…
“Julia!”
The word sprang from her lips and she rushed towards me; her arms opened wide in a welcome embrace as she wrapped them tightly around my shoulders, the affection and warmth as genuine as ever before.
The realization that Millie was there, right by my side when I needed her most, created a feeling so intense that I was unable to prevent the flood of tears that poured out in an unstoppable flow. Tears of sorrow and loss and joy and intense relief combined together and I became a sobbing mess as I stood embracing my long lost friend in the foyer of the hospital in full view of everyone.
Apparently she had turned up at my house earlier that morning, after being unable to contact me the day before. It was then that she’d been confronted with Matt’s recount of what had happened and when I still didn’t respond to her texts or calls, she decided to go to the hospital and find me.
Then several hours later, she’d been the one to convince me to go home; home to the sanctuary of my bedroom and the comfort of my own bed where I could get the sleep that I so desperately needed.
“The nurses will let you know if there’s any change,” she had insisted when at first, I shook my head in refusal at her suggestion.
“You’ll be no good to Ky if you get sick, yourself. And that’s what will happen if you don’t go home and get a good night’s rest!”
It was those words that finally persuaded me and later that evening, before finally drifting into a deep and soundless sleep, thoughts of Millie’s unexpected arrival and the hours that followed, filled me with intense relief once more.
It was so good to have her back. To have the best friend who I once knew and could always rely on, back in my life right when I needed her most. It seemed a miracle of unbelievable proportions. Although her hair was now much longer than ever before, and she had also changed the color to a darker shade, she was still the Millie I had always known. And I was so grateful!
Julia Jones - The Teenage Years: Boxed Set - Books 2, 3 and 4 Page 17