Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Memoirs from Ryan to Brendon
Hospital
"Brendon?" I shouted as I ran down the last flight of stairs. "Brendon Urie wake up now!" You didn't. 'Don't be dead', I Prayed, 'Don't be fucking dead.'
I knelt beside your head, being careful not to move your neck. I still couldn't tell if you were breathing.
"You fucking son of a bitch. Don't fucking die on me!" I sobbed. I put the back of my hand to your mouth and, to my relief, I felt a very thin, shallow breath. 'Thank god' I thought.
"911, how may I help?"
"Ambulance please. My boyfriend, Brendon, has fallen down a flight of stairs and he's unconscious, barley breathing."
As I waited for the ambulance my neighbour, Lisa, came and sat beside me.
"He didn't fall." She whispered.
"What?!" I asked stunned.
"Well I don't think he did. I saw him arguing with an old drunk man as I went into my flat." She told me.
"An old drunk man?"
"Yep."
When the paramedics arrived, they strapped you on a spinal board. You looked like death. Your skin whiter than snow, your black hair hiding you closed eyes.
"Will he be okay?" I asked one of the paramedics.
"We have to take him to hospital to be sure. Do you want to sit with him?" Of course I did. All the way to the hospital I sat next to you holding your hand, crying.
When we got there, they rushed you straight to theatre. A few of your ribs had fractured causing internal bleeding and a punctured lung, they told me. Also you had broken you leg in six places! Thank god for portable x-rays.
"Any longer and the blood loss could have been too much." A doctor told me.
I waited for three long hours before a nurse came to tell me I could visit you. I found you lying, asleep, in a bed. Your leg bandaged, billions of wires stuck to your chest and drips in your arms. I didn't want to wake you up so I help you hand and sat in the chair next to your bed.
A few hours later, your eyes feebly flickered to life. They met mine within seconds.
"Whe- Where am I?" You tried to ask.
"Shush, my lovely. Don't speak." I told you. "You are in hospital. You fell down the stairs. You have broken you leg in six places and fractures three ribs which caused internal bleeding and punctured you lung. No singing for you for a few weeks." I tried to laugh but I just burst into tears.
"Never do that again Bren. Do you hear me? I though you had died. Never leave me." I held your hand and squeezed it. You squeezed back then fell asleep.
I awoke to find you stroking my hair. My head was lying on your chest.
"I don't ever want to leave you!" I heard you rasp. I gazed into you beautiful chocolate coloured eyes.
"Really?" I had to ask just to make sure. You nodded in return. I knew then for certain I was in love with you.
"Brendon?" I shouted as I ran down the last flight of stairs. "Brendon Urie wake up now!" You didn't. 'Don't be dead', I Prayed, 'Don't be fucking dead.'
I knelt beside your head, being careful not to move your neck. I still couldn't tell if you were breathing.
"You fucking son of a bitch. Don't fucking die on me!" I sobbed. I put the back of my hand to your mouth and, to my relief, I felt a very thin, shallow breath. 'Thank god' I thought.
"911, how may I help?"
"Ambulance please. My boyfriend, Brendon, has fallen down a flight of stairs and he's unconscious, barley breathing."
As I waited for the ambulance my neighbour, Lisa, came and sat beside me.
"He didn't fall." She whispered.
"What?!" I asked stunned.
"Well I don't think he did. I saw him arguing with an old drunk man as I went into my flat." She told me.
"An old drunk man?"
"Yep."
When the paramedics arrived, they strapped you on a spinal board. You looked like death. Your skin whiter than snow, your black hair hiding you closed eyes.
"Will he be okay?" I asked one of the paramedics.
"We have to take him to hospital to be sure. Do you want to sit with him?" Of course I did. All the way to the hospital I sat next to you holding your hand, crying.
When we got there, they rushed you straight to theatre. A few of your ribs had fractured causing internal bleeding and a punctured lung, they told me. Also you had broken you leg in six places! Thank god for portable x-rays.
"Any longer and the blood loss could have been too much." A doctor told me.
I waited for three long hours before a nurse came to tell me I could visit you. I found you lying, asleep, in a bed. Your leg bandaged, billions of wires stuck to your chest and drips in your arms. I didn't want to wake you up so I help you hand and sat in the chair next to your bed.
A few hours later, your eyes feebly flickered to life. They met mine within seconds.
"Whe- Where am I?" You tried to ask.
"Shush, my lovely. Don't speak." I told you. "You are in hospital. You fell down the stairs. You have broken you leg in six places and fractures three ribs which caused internal bleeding and punctured you lung. No singing for you for a few weeks." I tried to laugh but I just burst into tears.
"Never do that again Bren. Do you hear me? I though you had died. Never leave me." I held your hand and squeezed it. You squeezed back then fell asleep.
I awoke to find you stroking my hair. My head was lying on your chest.
"I don't ever want to leave you!" I heard you rasp. I gazed into you beautiful chocolate coloured eyes.
"Really?" I had to ask just to make sure. You nodded in return. I knew then for certain I was in love with you.
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