Chereads / Too Broke For Afterlife / Chapter 22 - A Beating Heart

Chapter 22 - A Beating Heart

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It was raining outside or at least so I had assumed, looking at the people passing me, wearing windbreakers and beanies. They hadn't bothered to take them off, they looked either stressed or mentally absent.

I didn't blame them. I had always hated hospitals myself, they were either the calm before the storm or the silence after. And when I had sent a request to Afterlife to see my parents before getting transferred to my next mission, I hadn't expected to end up here.

Who were they visiting?

I had been to this hospital before but I didn't recognize the unit I was in. Everything was white and sterile, I didn't pass a lot of smiling faces and the whole atmosphere felt somber, as if death was waiting behind one of the doors, ready for his next shift.

A woman was sitting in the hallway, silently crying while kneading a used tissue to calm herself down. She was alone. And I doubt that is what she wanted.

"Coffee. I need coffee," a voice muttered and a tall man walked past me, dressed in a flannel shirt and baggy jeans. His cologne was strong and his hair messy. Messier than the last time I saw him.

I watched my dad as he made his way to the next vending machine, fiddling a few coins out of his chest pocket.

I couldn't describe the feeling of seeing him but everything inside of me urged me to call out his name. But I held back.

Instead I turned around to figure out where he had come from and saw that one door a few feet down the hallway was now open.

I tensed up, I started to get nervous. Was my mom okay? Did Alex get hurt? Or was it just a friend from work?

I started walking towards the door, trying to calm down my heartbeat. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw once I carefully peeked around the corner.

My mom was sitting at a tiny table, chin resting on her hand, gazing out of the window. She was dressed in her usual jeans and tshirt, the light brown hair put up into a bun, held together by a big plastic clip.

Alex was standing a few feet away, looking at the bed with tired eyes, switching from one foot to the other. He was wearing one of my college sweatshirts which my mom had bought for me once I had received the acceptance letter. She knew I wouldn't pull through but lying to yourself is always easier than admitting the truth.

But once I saw who they were visiting, I stumbled backwards.

It was me.

I was lying in bed, covered in a blanket and my pale face hidden behind an oxygen mask. Wires and tubes were hooked up to machines, showing data I couldn't comprehend.

I had died over three months ago so how is it possible that I was lying in a hospital hooked up to life support? Shouldn't I be buried by now? Or were they wanting to donate my organs?

"Can I help you?" My dad had appeared next to me, in his hands a plastic cup filled with black coffee and a bottle of DrPopper. His voice caught the attention of my mom and brother and now everyone was staring at me.

"I...hello Sir. My name is Jordan. I'm here because of Parker."

He just nodded and walked into the room and because nobody closed the door I took it as an invitation to follow.

"You guys are friends?"

"Yeah, we...went to college together. I'm so sorry for your...loss."

Mom's head shot up, she looked upset. "Don't say that like he is already dead!"

"He is not?"

My parents look confused, my brother suspicious.

"I...I'm sorry. I only heard it through...uh...Phasebook. I wanted to come earlier but I didn't know if I...if it was appropriate. Since I wasn't invited to his funeral."

My mom's voice got louder, she started shaking. "There was no funeral because he isn't dead yet!"

"Love, calm down." My dad put a hand on her shoulder, then he turned to me.

"The doctors said that his brain shows very little neurological activity, a bit less and he would be considered brain dead. He is in a coma right now and we are hoping he will wake up again but...it's not looking too good."

My mom sobbed and he turned to her to whisper some comforting words.

Finally Alex spoke up. "Were you guys close? He never mentioned you. Jordan was it?"

"Yeah. I mean he never was much of a talker so I'm not surprised he didn't mention me. But we were pretty close. Can I…?" I pointed at the chair standing right next to the bed. My dad nodded. "Sure."

I walked over, feeling their eyes on me and sat down.

I looked at my own face, the closed eyes and greasy hair. If I wasn't mistaken I could also see beard stubbles beneath the mask.

So it took me to almost die to be able to grow a beard? I smiled.

"Did the doctors say how his chances are? Of waking up I mean."

"They said it's quite unlikely but you never know what might happen. It's unpredictable. Just like Parker." My dad put his hands on the end of the bed frame and leaned forward, smiling sadly at my unconscious self.

"They mentioned that his own will plays a role as well. People always said that Parker is a weak person, always getting into trouble and never pulling through with anything, giving up as soon as it gets tough. But I know my son, he is strong. No matter what others thought, he always stuck to his route, never letting anyone throw him off. Even if I disagree with a lot of the things he did and said, he didn't have an easy time but he was resilient, not letting his own mind take him down. That is what makes him stronger than anyone I know. So I owe it to him to still have hope."

Tears had formed in my dad's eyes and I didn't know how to respond. I had never seen him this emotional, not even at my highschool graduation. He turned away from me and wiped his eyes. Alex looked at him quietly.

"Melissa." My mom lifted her head slowly. "We should go home now, it's getting late." She nodded.

"Jordan, you should leave now too but you are welcome to come back tomorrow."

I smiled slightly. "Thank you but I'll have to go back home today. Thanks for letting me see him."

My dad nodded and then signaled Alex to pack his things.

I turned back to my comatose self and grabbed the hand lying on top of the blanket, feeling the dry skin.

It was cold. But my heart was still pumping blood.