In the dark

275 words. Previously entered for Taboo words contest ‘touch’

Kate was in the kitchen when she heard it. The crash, then silence. She expected to hear her child’s scream of pain, but the silence was worse.
Rushing into Charlie’s bedroom, she ran to his cot, but before she reached it, her foot met the resistance of a small body on the floor.
She dropped to the carpet pulling her baby to her body, she placed her ear on to his little chest. There was no movement, no sound.
Kate ran her fingers through the blonde curls, they came away wet.
Scrambling in her pocket, she pulled out her mobile phone, with shaking hands she pressed the numbers that would bring the help she desperately needed.

“The ambulance is on its way, is the patient breathing?” The calm voice asked.
“No!” Kate screamed.
“Listen carefully, I want you to start chest compressions, give up to thirty quick presses and then two breaths into his mouth,” the dispatcher instructed, “keep going, the ambulance is nearly there.”

Kate knelt before her child, her hands scanned his lifeless body and she pumped away at his frail frame. She heard the ambulance siren getting closer until at last the back door opened and strong arms lifted her from the floor and her baby began receiving the breath of life.

Climbing into the ambulance assisted by the paramedic, she sat, the coldness of the bench seat permeating throughout her shocked body. Someone wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders, the rough wool made her skin crawl, as if she was being invaded by a thousand ants.

“He’s breathing by himself,” she heard someone say.
“See, he’s smiling,” a hand grabbed hers, urging her to look at the miracle which was her child.

“I’m blind.” Kate whispered.