Alone – part 1 - Nightmare
December 3rd, Thursday, twenty past 4 in the
morning, the ringing of the telephone wakes me up from a light sleep. The voice at the other end of the line says I
should come to the hospital now, he is deteriorating fast. The nightmare has begun. Go to the bathroom, splash water on my face,
call a taxi, throw my clothes on, add a coat, rush downstairs. The taxi arrives and luckily the streets are
empty, nothing to stop the rush.
Twenty minutes after the phone rang I walk into the ward to
be met by a sorrowful nurse, apologising, saying I am too late. She assures me that he woke up, gave her a
brilliant smile, said a few words, another smile and he was gone.
The nightmare is underway.
I choke back the tears, he wanted to go.
Must not cry, have to call a taxi and go home. No tears in the taxi, the taxi driver
talks. I open the front door and let
myself in. Is this home? He is never going to walk through that door
again. Never, ever. Walk around, put the
kettle on, make tea. Tea, the eternal
cure for everything. Will it cure a
broken heart?
It is still only a few minutes past 5. Too early to phone anyone. Who can I tell? Who can I talk to? What shall I do? Turn the computer on, drink tea. I do believe the clock has stopped. Drink more tea. At last, 6 am. Si says he is always awake at 6 but my call
wakes him up and the tears start. Stop
crying, now its 6.30 - phone Dom – wake him up.
Phone Chris, always up early, but today he wasn’t.
I need to get out, I put my coat on and go downstairs where
I can hang over the railing and watch the water, look at the boats, study the
seagulls. Nothing there has changed – it
all looks like it did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day, week,
month before that. Do I look the same?
I feel cold, I come indoors again, but I can’t face going
back into the flat. I knock on a
neighbour’s door. The door opens and I
fall inside and tell them what has happened.
They are only a young couple, but they comfort me, offer tea and
breakfast. I can’t eat or drink. After about 15 minutes I feel able to go back
to my own apartment.
I am still awake, I am still functioning, I am being
efficient with the urgent phone calls, but my mind is blank except for the
thought that I am on my own. I feel like
a robot.

Oh, Sheila. Please keep writing this story. Don't stop writing it.... Please don't stop writing..... My heart is with you....
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