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So here’s another one I wrote, for anyone interested… @ericawordsmith @i-david …

 

Every few seconds the machine in the corner beeps, letting me know that the man I sit next to is still alive. I don’t need the reminder. I can see the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and if I bring my hand to his face, the tiniest of breaths whispers against my fingers.

I like the machine though. It’s comforting, in a way. It gives the illusion that I’m not alone in my vigil. Someone else cares about the lunatic too.

The hallucinations had been too much this time. I roll my shoulder, wincing at the stiff pain. There’s probably already an ugly bruise.

He hadn’t meant it. He had thought someone was attacking me. That’s the problem. He never knows they’re not real until too late. I had to bring him to the hospital. He fell down and didn’t wake up. I was so afraid.

I’m afraid of everything right now. I’m afraid the man I love will die and I’ll be alone in a world that doesn’t take kindly to those who associate themselves with “crazies”. Marrying him made me a social outcast.

I’m afraid I’ll die first and no one will look after my Jonas. I’m afraid that one day the hallucinations will convince Jonas he doesn’t love me and he won’t look at me like I am the only thing on earth that matters to him.

“Do you see them?” Jonas whispers.

He’s awake.

Oh, thank You, God.

I kneel by the bed and look into his eyes. They’re distant and clouded.

“Em, do you see them?” Jonas repeats, lifting his hands towards the ceiling. He waves his fingers through the air. “Flowers, beautiful flowers, falling from the sky. Look,” he says, closing his fist and holding it out to me. “A sunflower. You love them.”

“I do,” I whisper. I reach out and take the imaginary flower. Jonas stares at the ceiling and I wait, holding my breath. He blinks. His hands fall limply to the bed and he turns to me.

“They weren’t real, were they?”

I have to shake my head no. I can’t lie to him.

“I thought they were real.” A tear slides down Jonas’s cheek and the sight of it hurts me more than the bruise on my shoulder. “I thought they were real. I wanted to give you a flower, Em. I always meant to give you flowers, but I never did.”

He sobs, and I lay down next to him on the bed, wiping away his tears. He wants to be sane, to be strong. He tries so hard…

I take his hand. “Hey, listen Jonas.” He listens. “They may not have been real, but I am. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, ever. I’ll always be right here.”

Jonas nods. He looks at me and I see in his eyes that I am still the most important thing in the world to him. “Em? Do you know the first thing I’m going to do when they let me out of here?”

“What?”

“I’m going to buy you some flowers. Sunflowers.”

I smile. “Those are my favorites.”