Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Maybe I shouldn't
Dedicated to the one I love
The doctor gently closed the door on the tide of emotion that was bouncing around the small room. Ray looked up, his face etched with tiredness. "How did it-" he stopped talking when he saw the doctor's face.
"I've explained about the amnesia," the young doctor began to explain. "Explained about how this is going to affect her and those around her. Also said that it might be a good idea to try and get on with those who know her even if she doesn't remember them. Oh," he finished," and this was on the seat. I guess you might want to open it." He started walked off down the corridor before turning round. "Oh and she was asking for you," he called, nodding to Ray, before disappearing.
Ray turned to look at Jenny. "You haven't been into see her once since she woke up. It's been two weeks," he said keeping his voice level. Jenny shrugged, slumping in her chair.
"If you're not going to even see her, why do you bother coming here every day?" he asked curiously. Once more Jenny shrugged. Ray shook his head and stood up, pushing the door open and walking into the hospital room, holding the unopened envelope.
The first thing that hit him was the sight of the tears pouring down Willow's face. The second was the CD on the side.
"Who am I?" Willow asked him quietly, the tears still sliding down her cheeks.
"You're Willow," he shrugged. "Same as you've always been."
"But I'm not am I?" she asked. "I've got a whole life that I know nothing about."
Ray looked at her helplessly.
"Tell me," she implored. "Tell me about what I've missed."
So Ray sat down, and talked for four hours about the last seventeen years. About everything that had happened in the world, and then about since he'd met her. He described the concert, the phone calls and meeting in New York. He told her about Jenny and Brian. Told her about when he'd proposed to her. Then he opened the envelope. In it were sheets of paper written by the rest of the band; their recollections of Willow.
She listened to this intently, committing it all to memory. "I remember after the concert," she began hesitantly, "But that's it."
Ray hung his head. "I can't tell you anything else," he murmured. The door softly clicked open.
"But I can," came Jenny's voice. Willow looked at her in shock. " Sugar...Oh my god. I am so sorry." And once more she started to cry, but Ray looked up at her. She'd sounded older. Like the Willow he'd known. He walked over so that he was standing next to her.
"Will?" he asked her gently.
"Ray." She smiled through the tears. "I remember. Thank you so much." She looked past him. "Jenny, I'm really sorry. I am so sorry, I couldn't even begin to tell you how much."
Jenny shrugged. "It's okay," she said indifferently before she smiled at her mother. "Missed you Will," she whispered, before crossing the room, as the tears started to pour down her face, and gently hugging the woman in the bed. Ray stepped away from his fiancé and left the room. They should have some time on their own. To talk.
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An: So I'm listeing to The Mamas and The Papas. You got aproblem with that? =P
The doctor gently closed the door on the tide of emotion that was bouncing around the small room. Ray looked up, his face etched with tiredness. "How did it-" he stopped talking when he saw the doctor's face.
"I've explained about the amnesia," the young doctor began to explain. "Explained about how this is going to affect her and those around her. Also said that it might be a good idea to try and get on with those who know her even if she doesn't remember them. Oh," he finished," and this was on the seat. I guess you might want to open it." He started walked off down the corridor before turning round. "Oh and she was asking for you," he called, nodding to Ray, before disappearing.
Ray turned to look at Jenny. "You haven't been into see her once since she woke up. It's been two weeks," he said keeping his voice level. Jenny shrugged, slumping in her chair.
"If you're not going to even see her, why do you bother coming here every day?" he asked curiously. Once more Jenny shrugged. Ray shook his head and stood up, pushing the door open and walking into the hospital room, holding the unopened envelope.
The first thing that hit him was the sight of the tears pouring down Willow's face. The second was the CD on the side.
"Who am I?" Willow asked him quietly, the tears still sliding down her cheeks.
"You're Willow," he shrugged. "Same as you've always been."
"But I'm not am I?" she asked. "I've got a whole life that I know nothing about."
Ray looked at her helplessly.
"Tell me," she implored. "Tell me about what I've missed."
So Ray sat down, and talked for four hours about the last seventeen years. About everything that had happened in the world, and then about since he'd met her. He described the concert, the phone calls and meeting in New York. He told her about Jenny and Brian. Told her about when he'd proposed to her. Then he opened the envelope. In it were sheets of paper written by the rest of the band; their recollections of Willow.
She listened to this intently, committing it all to memory. "I remember after the concert," she began hesitantly, "But that's it."
Ray hung his head. "I can't tell you anything else," he murmured. The door softly clicked open.
"But I can," came Jenny's voice. Willow looked at her in shock. " Sugar...Oh my god. I am so sorry." And once more she started to cry, but Ray looked up at her. She'd sounded older. Like the Willow he'd known. He walked over so that he was standing next to her.
"Will?" he asked her gently.
"Ray." She smiled through the tears. "I remember. Thank you so much." She looked past him. "Jenny, I'm really sorry. I am so sorry, I couldn't even begin to tell you how much."
Jenny shrugged. "It's okay," she said indifferently before she smiled at her mother. "Missed you Will," she whispered, before crossing the room, as the tears started to pour down her face, and gently hugging the woman in the bed. Ray stepped away from his fiancé and left the room. They should have some time on their own. To talk.
_____________
An: So I'm listeing to The Mamas and The Papas. You got aproblem with that? =P
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