Deafening Tick

My paces were swift and direct, heals clicking against the tile floor below me as I walked a straight line. To long had I been here, walking the length of the same small room counting the time and waiting for someone to come out and tell me what was going on, if everything was okay. My arms wrapped around my middle instinctively as if to comfort myself. My ghostly grey eyes flickered towards the clock once more, it’s slow painful ticking taking a toll on my sanity. I had lost count of how long I had been here, it seeming so much longer than anything I had ever experienced in my life. With a sigh of frustration I turned from the moving hands that controlled every aspect of people’s lives and back towards the other end of the room full of people, my family. They spoke in hushed tones to one another, my mother silently crying as my Grandmother did her best to console her. I watched them from a distance, head low as I tried to listen in on their conversation but all I received were small inaudible murmurs.

One by one family members and friends walked in at the odd hour of the night, each face grim and set in stone and sorrow but not once did they look my way, it being as if they blamed me before they even knew what had happened. It’s an odd thing, people. How in the dead of night they answer their phones, it being as if they knew it were going to be bad news. And despite what they were doing, whether it being sleeping, drinking or making love they each come half dressed and half awake. It’s the time you realize who is truly your friend and who just uses you, which if you ask me is a sick way of finding out. People being in pain and sorrow at the thought of a loved one dying and to top it all off you find out that the person you once considered to be your best friend doesn’t give two shits about you.

Pacing the room again I tried to contain myself, hold back the intense urge to scream out for someone to look at me, say something to me. Give me some form of attention whether it be good, bad or a slew of swear words; anything. I bit down hard on my lower lip, bouncing nervously as I made my way back to the group of people. Maybe it was best they didn’t acknowledge me right away. Maybe they were giving me time to digest what had happened, time to think over what I had done. It after all was my mistake. Sneaking out past curfew with my sister was something that shouldn’t have been done and I realized that now, but now was far too late. There was no changing what had happened, no going back in time and stopping us from getting in the car. It was my fault, all of it. I had convinced her to come with me, not wanting to go alone.

My brows furrowed as I tried to recall what exactly it was we were going out for and what had happened. Everything was a blur, nothing coming to the surface of my mind. Taking a deep breath I tried to clear my mind, erase all thoughts and focus on what had happened.

Us sneaking out the window and getting in the car. Laughing. We were laughing hysterically as I drove away. My steps quickened as my memories began to come back. Buying something and getting back into the car. More laughing. Going around the bend and-

I winced as the blinding light from my memory impaired my vision, our screams filling the car. After that everything was black, nothing else coming to my mind and I didn’t want it to. I racked my hand through my hair, my steps quickening as my stomach churned. My eyes pricked with tears as dread and terror coursed through my veins.

I crossed towards my mother quickly, eyes watering with tears at the memory. I needed someone to comfort me; I needed her.

“Mom.” My voice cracked as I called out to her, her eyes not glancing up to me. No one did looked at me. “Mom!” There was desperation in my voice now as I felt my world starting to fall apart. “Mom, please I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Still nothing.

I took a step towards her just as the doors around us opened, all of us turning around.

A surgeon stood still, his face grim like the rest of ours as he lowered his mask and my mother began to shake uncontrollably, silent no’s leaving her lips.

He spoke softly, voice low and full of sadness but with a glimmer of hope. “Kerry pulled through.” He said, his words taking me by surprise.

I looked towards my mother as she smiled a little and sniffled, her hands clinging to my father like claws.

“And Veronica?”

Me?

My breath caught in my throat as I twirled around staring wide eyed at my Grandmother. “I’m right here!” I looked back at the surgeon, pleading look on my face. “I’m right here, tell them I’m fine!” My words echoed around us as but for them the silence ached on. "I'm right here, I'm fine! Look at me!"

Reaching forward to grab a hold of my mother, to force her to see me, I gasped out as my hand passed through her just as the surgeon spoke once more.

“I’m sorry, but she didn’t make it. We did all we could, I’m sorry.”

Stepping back I stared around me in horror, the ticking of the clock falling silent with a deafening tick.

Three am and I was dead.