Page 151 of Unspoken Words
Connor
Horror gripped my body asfirst aid officers performed CPR on Ellie, backstage, her tiny body unresponsive and jolting with each compression to her chest.
“ELLIE!” I pulled against Jackson, trying to break his hold of me. “FUCKING LET ME GO.”
I was ready to swing my fist at him, but I couldn’t hear a single thing, not even my own words. Jackson was fighting my flailing arms and shouting as well, his mouth moving, people around us moving and talking, their faces masked with shock.
“Connor.”
My name was faint, my eyes on Ellie, my senses locked on her entirely.
“Connor. CONNOR!”
All sound came screaming back, hitting me like a truck and near knocking me off my feet.
“Connor, stop fighting me. You need to stay back. Let them do their thing.”
“Is she breathing?”
“I’m … I’m not sure. Just … She’ll be fine, mate. She’ll be fine.”
Of course she would. She would start breathing any second, and open her eyes, and find mine, and smile, and laugh. And she would start breathing …
“Where the hell is that defib?” the first aid officer asked his colleague.
“It’s coming. One minute.”
The guy compressing Ellie’s chest locked eyes with the one supporting her head, and they exchanged a look that did not go unnoticed, not by me, and not by Jackson, his grip around my shoulders tightening.
“ELLIE,” I cried out, pulling to get to her again.
“Through here,” a crewmember said as she passed us, two paramedics rushing behind her, one of them carrying some kind of machine that looked like a briefcase.
“Everybody step back and make some room, please,” one of them demanded.
He placed the machine down, undid the latches, and unravelled cords while another stuck two adhesive pads to Ellie’s chest and side. He pressed a few buttons and the machine began to talk. “Assessing patient,” it said. “Administering shock. Stand clear.” The first aid officers and paramedics moved back, hands in the air. The machine made a high-pitched noise and Ellie’s body jolted.
“Check for pulse,” the paramedic said to the first aid officer.
“Checking for pulse.”
I held my breath. I didn’t need to breathe. Ellie did.
“No pulse. Starting compressions again.” He began pressing her chest, counting fast, his movements, quick. “Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen—”
“Charging. Stand clear.”
They all moved back again, hands raised.
Ellie’s body jerked for a second time, her arms stiff, her eyes closed.
“Check for pulse.”
“Checking for pulse.” He pressed his fingers against her neck. “I have one. Pulse is there.”
The first aid officer supporting her head added, “she’s breathing.”
I dropped to my knees and burst into tears.
