Page 137 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Forty-Eight

Old people die—people who’ve had a chance to truly live.Not Sam. Not someone as young as him. There’s no sense in it.

It’s been hours since we spoke to Dr Burgess and now it’s just Ben, Sam and me, and our thoughts.

“I’m not saying goodbye, Sam. If I do it means I’ve given up, and I won’t do that.” Hot tears barrel down my face as the machines continue to breathe for him. “Keep fighting,” I whisper as I hold his hand, which fails to react to my touch. “Please.”

“Come on, mate,” Ben says, his voice thick with emotion. His words are soon interrupted by a machine which makes a long high-pitched tone. It sets off another alarm. Medical staff descend into the room in numbers.

“Stand back please,” someone says and tugs at the back of my chair.

A cart is wheeled closer to the bed, and a man places paddles on Sam’s chest.

This isn’t happening.

“Sam!” I cry out and lunge forward.

A woman pushes me away from him.

“Clear!” the man hovering over Sam’s body booms.

Sam’s chest jerks upwards and then collapses back on the bed.

The man repeats the action. The flatline sound continues to ring in my ears like a freight train speeding out of control.

I can’t see this …

I step back towards the door. If I stay and watch him slip from this world, everything Mr Blandford said is going to rush back. Sam’s skin will tighten and turn a different colour. His brain will surge and then stop. All this will happen, and then he won’t be my Sam anymore. He’ll simply be a shell of the man who slowly stole my heart. He’ll be the remains of the man who dared me to dream, who challenged me to love, and who instilled hope in me for a future. Sam, me, Butch, and Ed. His song-writing. My novels. A team.

Ben reaches out a shaking hand to me, his eyes filled with terror. His broad frame now seems weak as his shoulders curl in, and all hope fades from his face. Whilst this moment is tearing me apart, I can’t leave Ben alone. I can’t turn my back on Sam’s brother.

I take Ben’s hand and throw myself into his arms.

We watch on, wrapped up together as the man with the paddles continues to try and bring Sam back. When he finally gives up and steps aside, my heart shatters as I’m hit with the harsh recoil of reality.

He’s gone.

My Sam.

My legs collapse beneath me, but strong arms prop me up.

The staff make way for us, heads hanging low. Ben helps me to his chair beside his brother. I fumble for Sam’s hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing it over and over.

“Don’t go, Sam. Please.”Sob. “I’m here.”Sob. “I’m not leaving. Please.”

Please.

Together, Ben and I sit either side of Sam, each holding one of Sam’s hands, and then our hands meet and rest on his chest.A chest that no longer rises and falls … A beautiful heart that no longer beats.

Together, we farewell a brother, a man, and a musician.

I say a chilling goodbye to my first real love.

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