Doooooooooooooooooooown he goes...
Brendon could see him rolling, hear his bones crack, feel every bounce of every step. Brendon stood petrified, rooted to the spot as his best friend, boyfriend, the love of his life, landed at the bottom of the stairs, unmoving. Then he ran.
“Ryan! Somebody help me!” he screamed, taking two, three steps at a time. By the time he reached the bottom, there was a crowd of people surrounding Ryan.
“Let me through, he’s my…” my what? What kind of person pushes their boyfriend down the stairs “…he’s my friend.”
“I’ve called an ambulance. They should be here soon,” said a voice from the crowd. Brendon nodded dumbly, concentrating on holding Ryan’s hand. “I’m here, Ry, don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine,” he repeated over and over, more to reassure himself than Ryan. Now he knew how Ryan felt before – the guilt – he caused this.
The ambulance arrived and took Ryan and Brendon to the nearest hospital. People were talking. To Brendon? He didn’t know. It was just noise in his ears.
The ambulance stopped, bringing Brendon out of his shock and drink induced stupor. The paramedics took Ryan somewhere so Brendon followed. He was told to wait outside. He didn’t want to leave Ryan so he sat down right outside the window to watch. When the doctors left he ran into the room and resumed his vigil by Ryan’s side.
The next thing Brendon knew, there was an incessant beeping and people surrounding Ryan’s bed. Someone told him to go out and get a drink and something to eat. “We’ll call you in later,” she said.
Brendon got up and went towards the coffee machine that was pointed out to him. The coffee was lukewarm, near undrinkable. Maybe I’ll have more luck out of the hospital
Brendon left and went up the street. He spotted a small shop and went inside, later coming out with a bottle of vodka in his hands.
He traipsed back to the hospital and sank down outside, pressing the bottle to his lips and taking a large swig. It made him cough but he didn’t care. Until he realised the cause of Ryan’s accident. Drink, or more specifically, Brendon drinking.
Taking the bottle, Brendon smashed it against the wall, shattering it and cutting his hands. I deserve it
The hospital doors opened, reminding Brendon that Ryan was still in there. He went in and found Ryan’s room again. The beeping had stopped, but there were still people around, prodding and poking at the still body.
Somebody noticed Brendon’s hands and led him away to be sorted out. He had to sit and wait patiently while fragments of glass were removed. I deserve the pain, but Ryan doesn’t deserve his
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Xxx Nica xxX