"Niall, calm down. Breathe lad, breathe. We'll be there in two hours, she's gonna be okay," Harry reassured me, patting my back. We were perched in an airplane, heading for London and impatiently itching to reach Amelia. I knew Harry was lying. Every year, forty people get stung by jellyfish and die. Parish, gone forever. It pained me to think like that; she could be one of the unfortunate victims.
And it's all my fault. If I would've been able to be with her, to warn her, she would still be at her flat, scrolling down Twitter, or making herself dinner. It is crucially heartbreaking and I take the credit for this incident.
I just want to tell her how much I love her and kiss her, elope her in the biggest hug and hope she still loves me. Life is the hardest game of all.
I rolled my head on the leather seat of the airplane and whimpered, a tear streaming down my cheek. It reminded me of water, the ocean, jellyfish. I cringed and slapped my hands to my face, causing a loud smack erupt in the plane. Passengers turned, staring at me with disgrace and rolling their eyes.
I slowly turned my head and clenched my fist.
"NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND! YOU DON'T HAVE SOMEONE DYING IN A HOSPITAL, DO YOU?" I screamed, unbuckling my seatbelt and pointing no where in particular. Harry frantically pulled me back down and gave me a hug.
My breathing was soon quick pants, I felt like I was the one in the hospital.
"We will now be entering London, please put on your seatbelt and sit at all times. The climate is eighty-nine degrees, with a slight breeze. Thank you for taking British Airways," a low-pitched voice flashed through the plane. I tapped my foot and ran my fingers through my gelled quiff, soon releasing them after the gel was sticking onto my fingers. I wipe my fingers on my pants and quickly struggled off the plane, grabbing my bags from the nook above me and running off.
The lads paced behind me and after departing the airport, we hailed a cab.
"London hospital please," I said, throwing my bags in the trunk and whipping into the car. The lads followed in suit, copying my motions.
After the most frustrating ten minutes of my life, we arrived at the hospital. Liam informed me that he would take care of my bags and told me to go. Without any reluctance, I scrambled to the doors and was greeted by a nurse at the front desk. She sat, handling phone calls while clicking her mouse on the computer in front of her. She had mouse brown hair, shrugged into a ponytail, and green eyes with glasses hanging from the bridge of her nose. She was plump, looking to be about forty years old.
She looked up at me, putting her finger up. I groaned, causing her to look at me disapprovingly.
"What room is Amelia Brown in?" I interrupted her while she chatted on the phone, sick of hearing her argue with a patient in the hospital.
"Floor seven, room 231."
I avoided the fountain in the lobby, with glistening water like Niagara Falls. I went past the old lady crying to herself, who dabbed her eyes sniffing while she held a cane next to her. Hopping into the grey elevator, I pushed on the number seven and sighed. My white supras were untied, with the laces straggling on the ground. I crouched down and tied them. I fixed my blue polo shirt and zipped the fly on my shorts, which I forgot to do before as I had to rush hectically onto the plane. The elevator dinged, opening and I stepped out. Nurses wheeled gurneys on the white tile floor, entering rooms which said "STAFF ONLY".
"231, 231, 231, ahh, here it is," I muttered to myself.
I knocked on the door, and a doctor with gray hair and brown eyes ushered me in.
"Boyfriend?'' I said, half asking. I wasn't sure if they would let me see her, so I crossed my fingers behind my back.
"Come on in."
Amelia was lying on a bed, with sheets covering her legs and stomach. Her face was almost as white as the sheets on the bed, and an IV was pierced into her skin with a screen with metallic green lines, racing up and down as if they were running in a marathon.
Her stomach lifted up, then quickly went back down. "Is she gonna be okay?" I asked, still keeping my gaze on my beautiful girlfriend. Her long blonde hair was scattered over the blue and white striped pillow, and I slowly walked over to her, brushing it away from her face.
"The jellyfish were pacific sea nettle, meaning it wasn't to dangerous. She was underwater for two minutes, causing her lungs to expand. We aren't sure what's going to happen. I'm terribly sorry."