Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Slit Wrists and Broken Hearts
Chapter Nine: Waiting for Devin
3 reviewsDevin's friends discover her in the bathroom, then wait in the hospital for news
1Exciting
Patrick, Andy and Joe returned from KFC each clutching a bag of chicken. Pete set the table and they all sat down.
"Where's Devin?" asked Patrick, frowning.
"Living room," replied Pete, "I'll go get her." He crossed the hall and stepped into the living room...no sign of Devin. He frowned and went over to the bathroom door and knocked.
"Devin?" he called. No answer.
"Devin!"
He slowly turned the doorknob, afraid of what he might find. He gasped in horror at the sight that lay before him; Devin lay on the bathroom floor, blood pouring from her slashed wrists and pooling on the white tile floor. Her sweat drenched hair clung to her pale, lifeless face, framing it. Pete stumbled forward, fighting back tears as he checked for a pulse; it was faint, barely there.
"You guys!" he screamed.
Three pairs of feet thundered into the bathroom. Joe and Andy gasped in horror.
"Call 911!" shouted Pete. Andy turned and ran for the phone.
Patrick watched in horror. His heart sank and he felt dizzy.
"Is she breathing?" he asked, his voice barely audible, as he slumped against the wall
"It's Shallow." Pete answered.
Patrick tried to fight the tears, but they spilt over and he slid down the wall. Joe pulled him up.
"C'mon, man, stay with us. Don't pass out." He muttered, sounding choked.
"Devin..." Patrick muttered, leaning against his friend for support.
Andy came running back in.
"They'll be here in 5 minutes, tops."
"Ok, guys, clear out so that the paramedics can get in. Someone go wait out front to show them the bathroom." Pete ordered, taking charge. Andy turned and went to wait out front. Joe helped Patrick onto the couch.
"We'll take my car to the hospital when the ambulance gets here." He told Patrick.
"No...I wanna go with her..." Patrick stuttered through his tears.
"No, man, you're a mess, let Pete go."
"No!" he cried hysterically, and made a movement to get up.
"Patrick!" Joe snapped, yanking him back down.
The paramedics rushed inside and quickly attached Devin onto a stretcher, wheeling her out the door as quickly as possible, Pete at their heels. Joe, Andy and Patrick all rushed out to Joe's car and followed the ambulance. Joe and Andy were having a worried conversation in the front seat, but Patrick was slumped against the back seat, his head spinning.
"Don't die, Devin..." he was thinking. Memories of her smile, her laughter, her witty sarcasm swam through Patrick's head. He had seen less and less of them everyday since she moved in with Kevon...
"This is all his fault." He mumbled out loud.
In the front, Joe was watching Patrick in the review mirror.
"Andy, is he ok?" he asked cautiously.
"He's in shock...grief."
"But she's not..." Joe didn't want to say the word.
"He's so confused he doesn't know what's going on."
"God, I never thought I'd have to go to the hospital twice this week." Joe said, running his fingers through his hair. They pulled into the parking lot and Joe parked the car. They all went inside, in a slow trance. They sat down in the same waiting room as a few nights before. Patrick had his head in his hands, silent tears streaming down his blood-drained face. Andy and Joe sat in shock, silent waves of worry and terror crashing over them. They all heard footsteps, and looked up; Pete was walking out into the waiting room, looking both worried and angry.
"They wouldn't let me stay with her, the stupid..." he sat down and proceeded to call the hospital workers every horrible name that came to mind at the moment.
"How is she?" Andy asked in a hushed voice. Pete, Andy and Joe all glanced at Patrick, who had his head in his hands again. He was softly humming "Sugar, we're goin' down". Pete dropped his voice.
"Not so good," He said, "They'll tell us how she is after they get her stitched and bandaged up, and when she's...breathing better..." Pete choked back a sob as he trailed off. The four friends sat quietly for hours on end, watching people go by; happy new grandparents, grief-stricken widows, worried spouses and injured children. But no doctor came out to fill them in on Devin's condition. At about 11:30 that night, a doctor stepped out into the waiting room, a solemn look on her face.
"Mr.Wentz?" she asked, and Pete stood up.
"Where's Devin?" asked Patrick, frowning.
"Living room," replied Pete, "I'll go get her." He crossed the hall and stepped into the living room...no sign of Devin. He frowned and went over to the bathroom door and knocked.
"Devin?" he called. No answer.
"Devin!"
He slowly turned the doorknob, afraid of what he might find. He gasped in horror at the sight that lay before him; Devin lay on the bathroom floor, blood pouring from her slashed wrists and pooling on the white tile floor. Her sweat drenched hair clung to her pale, lifeless face, framing it. Pete stumbled forward, fighting back tears as he checked for a pulse; it was faint, barely there.
"You guys!" he screamed.
Three pairs of feet thundered into the bathroom. Joe and Andy gasped in horror.
"Call 911!" shouted Pete. Andy turned and ran for the phone.
Patrick watched in horror. His heart sank and he felt dizzy.
"Is she breathing?" he asked, his voice barely audible, as he slumped against the wall
"It's Shallow." Pete answered.
Patrick tried to fight the tears, but they spilt over and he slid down the wall. Joe pulled him up.
"C'mon, man, stay with us. Don't pass out." He muttered, sounding choked.
"Devin..." Patrick muttered, leaning against his friend for support.
Andy came running back in.
"They'll be here in 5 minutes, tops."
"Ok, guys, clear out so that the paramedics can get in. Someone go wait out front to show them the bathroom." Pete ordered, taking charge. Andy turned and went to wait out front. Joe helped Patrick onto the couch.
"We'll take my car to the hospital when the ambulance gets here." He told Patrick.
"No...I wanna go with her..." Patrick stuttered through his tears.
"No, man, you're a mess, let Pete go."
"No!" he cried hysterically, and made a movement to get up.
"Patrick!" Joe snapped, yanking him back down.
The paramedics rushed inside and quickly attached Devin onto a stretcher, wheeling her out the door as quickly as possible, Pete at their heels. Joe, Andy and Patrick all rushed out to Joe's car and followed the ambulance. Joe and Andy were having a worried conversation in the front seat, but Patrick was slumped against the back seat, his head spinning.
"Don't die, Devin..." he was thinking. Memories of her smile, her laughter, her witty sarcasm swam through Patrick's head. He had seen less and less of them everyday since she moved in with Kevon...
"This is all his fault." He mumbled out loud.
In the front, Joe was watching Patrick in the review mirror.
"Andy, is he ok?" he asked cautiously.
"He's in shock...grief."
"But she's not..." Joe didn't want to say the word.
"He's so confused he doesn't know what's going on."
"God, I never thought I'd have to go to the hospital twice this week." Joe said, running his fingers through his hair. They pulled into the parking lot and Joe parked the car. They all went inside, in a slow trance. They sat down in the same waiting room as a few nights before. Patrick had his head in his hands, silent tears streaming down his blood-drained face. Andy and Joe sat in shock, silent waves of worry and terror crashing over them. They all heard footsteps, and looked up; Pete was walking out into the waiting room, looking both worried and angry.
"They wouldn't let me stay with her, the stupid..." he sat down and proceeded to call the hospital workers every horrible name that came to mind at the moment.
"How is she?" Andy asked in a hushed voice. Pete, Andy and Joe all glanced at Patrick, who had his head in his hands again. He was softly humming "Sugar, we're goin' down". Pete dropped his voice.
"Not so good," He said, "They'll tell us how she is after they get her stitched and bandaged up, and when she's...breathing better..." Pete choked back a sob as he trailed off. The four friends sat quietly for hours on end, watching people go by; happy new grandparents, grief-stricken widows, worried spouses and injured children. But no doctor came out to fill them in on Devin's condition. At about 11:30 that night, a doctor stepped out into the waiting room, a solemn look on her face.
"Mr.Wentz?" she asked, and Pete stood up.
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