Page 27 of Dream Girl

He is not alright. What is this man talking about? There is no way he could be fine when he’s staggering and actively trying to fall on the ground when he is a man who composes himself in horror movies and jump scares.

Nothing fazes him, but this is what gets him to break his stoic demeanor.

I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him securely to me and rubbing his back. He’s not overly hot, but I do notice a slight difference in his body temperature. He’s not freakishly warm like he always is; it’s concerning and warrants an immediate trip home if the hospital isn’t his first choice of action.

I will drag him there if I have to.

“Milo, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Silence greets me, and any strength his arms holding onto me has faded. “Please talk to me, Milo. What—”

His legs buckle, giving the floor his weight and pulling me with him. We crumble onto the ground; his heaviness knocks the air out of my lungs as he lays motionlessly on me.

I tremble, shakily pushing myself up with his head on my chest as he’s knocked out cold. Not a twitch on his face while my fingers on the floor turn deadly cold.

“M-Milo?” I grasp his shoulders, shaking him and calling his name again.

He’s not waking up, and the ashen color on his face worsens.

“Call an ambulance!” I scream at the bystanders, looking down at us with stricken shock at what just happened.

Milo taught me to pick someone with a colored clothing article and make sure it’s a solid color, pinpointing them and telling them to call for emergency help when I need it.

They wouldn’t be able to pass the job off to anyone else and have that bystander effect that can potentially cause more harm to the victims who need help.

“Yellow jacket!” I shout at the woman in front of me, and she is the first one I see. The woman jumps, eyes bulging wide as if she wasn’t expecting to be called out.

“Call an ambulance!”

It works as the woman fumbles with her phone while others jump into either calling the emergency line or kneeling by us to see if they can help Milo.

I hope that one of them is a medical professional, and I really wish that Eddie was here because he has knowledge of paramedic procedures.

“Milo, Milo—Milo!”

I’m so scared.

I don’t know how long until the ambulance got here, but the people around me are being pushed aside to let two paramedics through. They are asking me questions, but it goes in one ear and leaves out the other.

I’m too shocked, shook to the core that I’m paralyzed on the ground. One of them raises their voice to ask me questions, and I’m answering them with frantic answers and hoping that they are correct because I don’t have the time or concentration to see if I’m answering what they asked me.

I only hear partial questions, and I know I only hear a part of my responses, but it seems that it’s all they need because they’re putting Milo on the stretcher to be reeled into the back of the ambulance.

I chase after him, and the paramedics let me in to stay with him. I couldn’t touch him when the paramedic at the back barks at me to let him do his job while my hands are frozen in mid-air. I want to hold his hand, comfort him, and wipe the melted snow from his face.

The blood in my ears can’t be compared to the loud siren ringing in my ear. Everything is happening so quickly, and the oxygen mask haunts me with every fogged breath Milo takes.

He’s alive. He’s breathing and I should too, but it hurts to let air into my lungs.

The hospital comes, and so do a bunch of medical professionals clad in blue. They take him away from me, into the emergency room, and close the curtains in my face.

A nurse has me sitting out somewhere, but all I can see is the still curtains and hear the anguished screams of patients around me.

Chapter Eight

Milo

Waking up groggy is a red flag on its own that makes me cautious of my surroundings. The scent of pungent disinfectant, the dead-white ceiling, and the constant echoes of the beeps coming from my side.

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