Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 25. 2024.
For idling in class, Vincent was casted aside to do push-ups as punishment. From his position, going up then down repetitively, he sees Alessia trudging by airily. With each harsh breath he releases, she seems to sway as if getting ready to be carried away with the wind. She doesn't look present, nor well, but he only watches on. Heavy metal is blasting in his ears and he's effortlessly going through the set given to him by Mr. Dale, trailing his deep, amber eyes after the girl's paper-like image.
Then, she's falling. His breath hitches and his train of thoughts comes to a halt at her unexpected trip downwards. He's so caught off guard that he hesitates, though his body has tensed for the moment he runs to her aid.
He's five seconds two slow; Phil is racing over by the time he gets to his feet. He rolls her over into a fetal position, checking her pulse and for signs of breathing.
A minute ago, only Mr. and Mrs. Dale's voice could be heard on the field. Now, it's filled with noise and a crowd is growing around the fallen girl. Mr. Dale pulls out his phon, dials a three digit number and puts it to his ear.
When Phil starts to perform CPR on Alessia, the horrible realization that she wasn't breathing stuns Vincent. He sees panic on the face of the English, white boy, but he's doing everything correctly. Why wasn't she breathing?! He takes a step towards the scene, then pauses, trembling. What's happening?
Phweeeeeeeeeeeee—! The shrill sound of Mrs. Dale's whistle cuts across the field cleanly, slicing through the noise like she wants it to. It also snaps Vincent out of his shock, to which he frantically retrieves his phone from his pocket. She isn't breathing! What even happened? She was walking and then...then—dont panic! He closes his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling in short burst of air with his mouth. Don't panic...
Sliding his headphones down to his neck, he blocks out the collage of voices around him. He's still trembling as he scrolls through his contacts, but it isn't as bad as it was before. He blocks out the yelling of Mr. Dale into his phone, the huffing of Phil whose CPR seems neverending, the whistle of Mrs. Dale as she tries to ward off the hot crowd. Across the field, the school's nurse is coming as fast as she can and Vincent puts his phone to his ear.
"Yo," he begins to Petro Moskal, "Alessia is passed out on the field and she's not breathing. It's been a minute."
Sirens start to sound from afar, gradually getting closer, louder than the noise and the music emitting from the headphone around the boy's neck. A door slams shut on the other end of the call. Petro has rushed out, leaving his phone behind.
• • •
A doctor exits from where Alessia is stable and resting. Clipboard in his left hand, he closes the door with his right then greets Petro with a firm handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you. May I ask what's your relation to Ms. Alessia?"
"I'm her guardian." He states, staring at the man in black-rimmed, reading glasses and a white coat.
"Well then, Mr. Moskal," Dr. Mike begins, "Alessia seems to be suffering from Stress Cardiomyopathy. Also known as Takotsubo Syndrome." Petro's eyebrows twitch at the confusing names, but he gets the idea that she has a heart issue from the word cardio. To put it simply, the doctor adds, "Call it the Broken Heart Syndrome," which is luckily recognizable to Petro's old brain, "It's a condition that can cause rapid and reversible heart muscle weakness from either emotional or physical stress. Are you aware of her stress levels? Do you know whether she's mentally okay or not?"
Petro who has been listening keenly to the doctor's explanation to refresh his memory of the ailment is thrown off by the questions that followed. "I–sure. Well, I know for a fact that she's physically stable. However, I can never tell what's going on inside her head."
"Her blood sugar level has dropped severely and her heart is undergoing arrhythmia. Since you're sure she's okay physically, do you know if she has suffered any losses, or has she had any random spurts of anger? Is she afraid of anything?"
He frowns deeply in thought, trying to give a sensible response to the doctor. "She's definitely fearless and she does have a little temper, but she's as calm as a candle flame. She did suffer a loss in the middle of the year. Someone dear to her passed away tragically. However, she's not a normal girl, so her reaction was vague to me, and when she was back to her usual self a few days later, i thought nothing of it." He tells the better part of the truth with a pokerface intact.
Dr. Mike sighs, "I'm afraid Alessia may be hiding a case of chronic depression, but I'm no psychiatrist. I'm also disappointed that as her guardian, you failed to take notice of her pain..."
The only part of what the doctor said Petro catches onto is the mention of depression. Depression...? Did he think it was impossible for someone like Alessia to have breakdowns?
He shakes his head to clear it and asks, "Can this syndrome thing be deadly?"
"In rare cases." Dr. Mike mumbles, looking down at his chart.
Petro looks at him, darkness swirling in his eyes. "Okay." He says, tearing his gaze away to glare at the door separating him from his best work.
Everything was too good to be true. After all, humans are fragile. It was only a wait before he failed. Again. And he will just keep failing.
He didn't expect this one to break as easy as the rest of them.