Chapter Text
I can hear it from everywhere. The sirens. My aunt's hand clenched to her chest. The medics boots scuffling on the floor. My dead beady eyes looking back as they take her from upstairs and onto the stretcher.
I should have done something. I know I should have.
But instead I caused it to happen—I knew she had a heavy heart and I killed her.
Well... at least that's what I think.
Dr. Peterson tries to console me about it—make it better.
But it doesn't get better.
It just doesn't.
It was a Tuesday when it happened.
And like every Tuesday, I check on Aunt Carol. Just to make sure that everything is alright and that she was okay for work.
She told me she was, not wanting me to worry. I believed her and for that I paid my life.
I went to school and left her there in that house.
Alone.
...
The hospital has a long quiet noise that continues to awe my ears. This is quiet that I haven't heard before. It's not buzzing or ringing, but it's comfortable.
But unfortunately, it doesn't last.
...
I wake up with a sharp jolt, a slight pain in my neck that I ignore because all that I can think about is Aunt Carol being alive.
I rush to her and grab her hand, comforting her.
"What happened?" I ask with fear, still clasping her hand in mine. "Are you okay, or do you need Dr-"
I pause as she removes her hand from mine and touches my face. In the heartwarming kind of way that she always does when I ramble like this. When I'm scared.
I finally look at her face, surprised but anchored by her touch. She looks at me with a short smile on her face that shows that she's grateful, but worried.
"Hugo," she says to me in a quiet voice, "I'm okay."
I nod, still holding her hand. "I know, Aunt Carol. It's just that I worry about you."
She nods shortly back to me. "I know you are, sweetheart." Then sighs, "But what have I told you, worrying about me isn't needed."
I swallow this, just in time to remember the reason for why I awoke. "But there was a sound-"
She shakes her head and waves her free hand. "That was just a dream, Hugo."
I stare back at her with relief, my hand almost flying out of hers. "Oh, thank God!"
Then she says something to catch my attention again. "I'm glad you're sleeping, honey, but I will admit I get scared that your dreams are becoming too realistic sometimes."
Surely enough, this brings me right back to her.
Now it's my turn to be reassured. "No, no" I reply, shaking my head intensely. "My dreams are fine, right now we have to think about you, Aunt Carol."
She brushes her thumb against my cheek and I can see the tears form in her eyes. "You know, your mother would be so proud of you, Hugo."
I pause, but then nod into her hand as tears begin to pour into my own eyes. "I know."
This moment of clarity and warmth lasts only for a few seconds, the last time I had my aunt in my life.
We hear the door open as Dr. Peterson walks in.
He puts on a happy smile as he walks over to us and says "Today's the day," looking at my aunt with hope. "How are we feeling, Ms. Rose?"
Aunt Carol takes her hand off my cheek and places both of her hands in her lap, looking at Dr. Peterson with that same hope. "Good, hopeful as ever."
"Nice to hear," he responds.
Then he performs her tests and goes on to explain what the next part of the procedure will be.
Only this time, it's surgery.
Something that he explains is a win or lose situation.
Something that I'm not ready to endure.
"No way!" I yell, standing up from my chair. "You can't say that and then expect her to go through with that!"
I can feel Aunt Carol try to grab my arm to sit me back down, console me. But it doesn't work because all I want for Dr. Peterson to do is to tell me that she's going to be fine.
He puts his hands up in defense as he says, "I'm not saying that your aunt is not going to make it because trust me, she's a tough cookie."
I roll my eyes. "Then, what are you saying?"
He sighs. "I'm saying that we should be realistic about the outcomes that can happen, Hugo."
"I know the outcomes because you've told us them before, why is this any different?!" I ask, enraged.
Dr. Peterson shakes his head. "This is different because this is our last resort, and if your aunt doesn't do this surgery, then I'm afraid she's not going to make it, Hugo."
I shake my head, scared. "What?"
I look at my Aunt and say in almost a whisper, "What does he mean by that?"
She turns and looks at me, eyes sorrowful. "I'm sorry, baby."
The words come out before I can process them. "You're dying?"
She doesn't say anything, just looks down and shakes her head silently.
I cry. "No, you can't be dying!"
Dr. Peterson approaches me and sits me down at the chair beside Aunt Carol's bed. "I'm sorry, Hugo."
I look at him, then back at my aunt with tears flowing down my face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She starts crying too, "I didn't know how to tell you, honey."
I shake my head in disbelief and sadness.
Then I do something that I never thought I'd do.
I take my hand away from hers and I run.
I can hear the cries of my aunt and the screams of Dr. Peterson, but I don't register any of it.
I just remember running and outside for a breather.
Never knowing that when I came back in, I'd be told with the worst news of my life.
My aunt died from a broken heart.