Page 120 of The Time It Takes
No.
No.
No.
Even with the truth in front of me, I refused to believe it. “Ben!” I yelled. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Ben!”
My eyes darted to his chest which wasn’t moving anymore. I picked up my phone and dialed 911. I placed two fingers against his throat and provided the operator with my address “My brother’s not breathing,” I croaked, my voice shaking. “I think he’s over—overdosing.” Violent sobs crashed through me as I forced the truth that killed me out of my mouth. The operator told me to stay on the line, so I put her on speaker and set the phone down next to me. She told me to start chest compressions and so I did. I’d done it at least twenty times before—but never like this. Not for my brother—my blood.
He needed Narcan.
It felt like forever before the ambulance arrived. The red lights flashed through the windows. It felt like an army of people began to intrude our home. The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears—the sound of a clock ticking out of time. At some point, I was so lost in the compressions I just kept counting in my head. Someone had pulled me away from my brother’s body, which looked so, so cold.
Someone had their arms wrapped around my shoulders and I couldn’t move. The Paramedics surrounded my brother until I could no longer see him.
I wasn’t a religious person, and I didn’t usually pray, but I sent one up then, hoping someone, anyone could hear me. I. Could. Not. Lose. My. Brother. I couldn’t bear it.
“Ben, just wake up!” I begged through a scream even though I couldn’t hear the words in my own ears. I watched as one by one they leaned back onto their ankles—removing their hands from Ben.
For 3.4 seconds I felt relief. 3.4 seconds was all I got until they all turned their heads in my direction. In their eyes, I saw remorse and pity that came with a weight I couldn’t bear to hold.
I screamed so hard that my lungs felt as if they might rupture. My eyes felt like they could leave my head and my heart could go too. I kicked and flung my arms until the person holding me let go. I ran over to Ben, my hands going to my mouth at the truth in front of me. I wrapped myself over his body, hanging onto him.
He’s warm.
I felt no movement under my cheek as I lay with him. Another scream ripped from my chest as time slowed and my world came crashing down around me.
“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered hoarsely into his shirt, hoping some part of him was still here. I begged the world to not take him from me. I’d do anything it asked. I’d live the rest of my life in misery to get him back. “Please don’t leave me,” I wailed and hoped that the universe was listening.
“I’ll do anything.Please,” I begged, “just let him stay.”
Someone reached for my shoulders, trying to move me, but I only wrapped my arms tighter around my brother. “No,” I mouthed, the word not making it out of my throat. The same hands tried to pull me away again. “Stop it!” I sobbed.
“Willow, he’s gone,” said a gentle deep voice behind me. When they crouched down beside me, I saw their face. It was Christian—Dean’s father. I shook my head at his words.
“No, he’s right here,” I told him. His face fell and the heartbreak on it broke my heart more, so I looked away.
I looked down at Ben’s face and placed a soft hand on his cheek. “Go on, open your eyes. Show them you’re okay—we’re okay,” I urged him quietly. “I’ll do your laundry for the rest of our lives, and I’ll make you that stupid casserole you love every night for dinner.” I watched him closely, and nothing happened. I banged my forehead on his chest.
“You promised,” I croaked before lifting my head. “You promised. You promised. You promised.” My head fell to the side in defeat, my eyes squeezing shut to lessen the blur.
This isn’t real.
When I opened my eyes, they set directly on Oliver who stood just outside the front door. The red and blue lights flashed across his devastated face as he stared down at Ben’s lifeless body.
So fast. I wanted to tell him. It all happened so fast and now I was completely lost in this void of unbearable agony.
His eyes jumped to mine, and I watched his eyes fill with tears, his eyebrows dipping in shock and confusion. I held my brother impossibly tighter as Oliver dropped down onto his knees, placing his hand over mine.
“Willow,” Oliver choked. He was looking at my face.
I reached for my brother’s hand and wrapped our pinkies together so that our tattoos connected. I pressed my lips to it before laying his hand back down slowly. I picked up my phone and stood up on shaky knees as I looked down at my brother for what I knew would be the last time.
“This isn’t real,” I said under my breath. “You’re not gone.” It wasn’t possible.
With that, I walked out of the house and didn’t stop until I reached the beach. I looked down at my phone and saw the voicemail notification I missed earlier.
I tapped the screen and put the phone up to my ear. “Willow,” Ben groaned. “Why won’t you pick up the damn phone.” His words came out slurred and shaky. He took in a raspy breath, and it sounded difficult for him. “My eyes hurt, Will. I think I overdid it this time. I took something I shouldn’t have. Oh fuck. I’m so sorry. Tell her I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me…” His words fell off into a whisper. “I love you, kid. I'll be home so—”
