Silence hung heavily in the Crone mansion. The once vibrant home was now shrouded in an eerie stillness, a stark contrast to the joyful laughter that had once filled its halls. Momo had been locked in his room for days, confined by his own demons, while the world outside carried on, oblivious to his torment.
Lilia, as always, stationed herself outside Momo's door. She had become a silent sentinel, her heart aching for her dear friend. She had sensed something was terribly wrong with Momo, something beyond the usual melancholy that haunted him. This time, her unease had reached its peak.
Unable to bear the anxiety any longer, Lilia gently pushed the door to Momo's room. The door creaked open, revealing a scene of horror that would forever haunt her nightmares.
There, in the dimly lit room, Momo hung from the ceiling, a makeshift noose around his neck. His frail body swayed slightly with the weight of despair, and his face was a mask of anguish. The chair upon which he had stood lay on its side, a silent witness to the desperate act.
A heart-wrenching scream escaped Lilia's lips as she rushed forward, her eyes wide with terror. She grabbed Momo's legs and tried to lift him, her strength failing her as she fought to relieve the pressure on his throat. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to undo the knot, her fingers trembling with fear and urgency.
The commotion reached the ears of the mansion's staff, and they rushed to the scene. Mr. Crone, drawn by the desperate cries, arrived with the maids. The sight that greeted him was one of unimaginable horror.
Together, they worked frantically to lower Momo to the floor. The noose, once a symbol of despair, was now a lifeline. Lilia clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably as they untied the knot and gently laid him on the ground. His lips were pale, and his breaths were shallow and ragged, but he was alive.
Without wasting a moment, they called for an ambulance, and within minutes, the wailing sirens of a paramedic vehicle echoed through the silent mansion. The paramedics rushed in, assessing Momo's condition with a sense of urgency born from years of experience.
In the ambulance, as the vehicle sped through the darkened streets, the paramedics worked tirelessly to stabilize Momo. His fragile body was connected to a web of machines, each monitoring his vital signs. Mr. Crone and Lilia sat in stunned silence, clutching each other's hands, their faces etched with fear and grief.
Arriving at the hospital, they watched as a team of doctors and nurses swarmed around Momo, their movements swift and deliberate. It was a race against time, a battle to pull Momo back from the precipice of death.
Hours turned into a blur of anxiety and uncertainty. Momo lay motionless in the sterile hospital room, surrounded by the beeping monitors that tracked his every breath. His once-pale lips were now a shade of pink, and his chest rose and fell with the help of the ventilator. His body was a canvas of medical tubes and wires, a lifeline that tethered him to the world of the living.
Lilia sat by Momo's bedside, her eyes never leaving his face. She whispered words of encouragement, pleading with him to wake up, to come back to her. Mr. Crone stood in silence, his face a mask of guilt and despair, tormenting himself with questions about how he had failed to protect the fragile soul that was Momo.
The doctors were grim in their assessments. Momo was in a coma, his condition critical. The damage caused by the lack of oxygen during his suicide attempt had left his brain severely affected. It was a waiting game, a battle against the unknown, as they could only hope and pray for Momo's recovery.
And so, Chapter 22 ended in the sterile silence of a hospital room, where the fragile thread of Momo's life hung by a thread, and the world he had known was plunged into darkness and uncertainty.