Positive/Negativity (39 page)

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Authors: D.D. Lorenzo

BOOK: Positive/Negativity
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“Aria! Stop! Please!”

Something about Declan’s tone made me stop. I don’t know what it was exactly, but perhaps it was the kindred desperation in his voice and my head or perhaps the paramount emotion that came through.
Fear? Anger? Hurt? Care? Concern? Love?

I slowed my pace and realized my chest was burning from the exertion on my lungs. I didn’t even recognize where I was, as if I were in a daze. My arms and legs wouldn’t give me time to register their protest as they initiated a concert of appendage quivering.

My surroundings were coming into focus and I realized I was at the edge of Coastal Highway. Declan’s shouting alerted me to the danger I may have posed to myself, and as I turned to step onto the curb, I also scouted to see where he was.

I looked left and right on the street, across the highway, and at the sides of the buildings. I couldn’t see him, but I was keenly aware that I had heard his voice. Once again, I became distracted and stepped into the street to gain a better view. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but then I saw him on the other side of the highway!

I started to walk in his direction as he came toward me, taking a step back onto the curb when a car came down the street. I was trying to make my way to him, and he to me. My thoughts were completely irrational at this point, so I needed to look into his eyes for the truth. Nothing made sense. I needed to be close to him. Nothing else would suffice.

As I took a step into the street to cross, I saw Declan look at the oncoming traffic in my direction. His voice took on a tone of excruciating torment that shook me into clarity and he seemed to want to reach me, and at the same time, his handsome features registered a dreadful horror.

“ARIA!!!”
Declan screamed as I heard screeches and grinds of machinery.

“…Declan,” I whispered as I observed him standing helplessly across the street with Marisol at his back…

 

 

The sirens sang a shrill and haunting song into the afternoon. An overwhelmed and distraught gentleman is holding his hand to his chest, saying, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop.”

Someone in the crowd is shouting, “Call 911!! Now!”

The gentleman drops to the ground, desperately attempting to remember everything he’s learned about administering CPR. Thankfully, the paramedics arrive and use their skills.

They bellow into the growing crowd, “Please move back everyone! We need some room!”

Medical equipment latches around the top of an arm, pumping air into a ball. A stethoscope is listening intently for vital information. A light is shined into eyes. The paramedic looks at his partner. There’s a pulse, so there’s still some hope.

Aria and I. We recognize no one except each other. Words are telepathically communicated as if some silent message could transcend the chaos around us. Fear is fast becoming the ruler of us both. Unconsciousness would’ve been a welcome friend, but shock arrived in its place.

My gaze is locked on Aria, willing significant strength into her. She glanced my way, pouring unspoken love into me. A touch would’ve been welcome, but circumstantially impossible.

Time was passing quickly and medically crucial, but for Aria and I, it moved at a sluggish pace. Every moment spent in each other’s eyes, held a lifetime of regret, love, and hope.

All around us, necessary and deliberate emergency medical preparations were made. Intravenous fluids were being administered. Stabilization of blood pressure and heart rate was being attempted. The ambulance began to transport the injured to better help. The siren wailed its ear piercing warning so that traffic would make way for the hurt. Still, fear was the looming monster threatening to consume us both.

We couldn’t speak, but no words were necessary. My suede brown eyes meet her beautiful, emotion filled, blue-gray ones. The only words between us are unspoken in a gripped held hand—its message: “Please stay with me. We’re almost there. I can’t lose you.”
TT

 

 

My Declan
. His long, lean, muscular body is in agony. The muscles, which I have so leisurely traced with my fingers, now make him distressed. My only thought is to make him comfortable. He hasn’t been able to move into many positions. It appears as if he needs a good stretch or a nice, long massage. His sleeping has been consistently fitful. There’s no wonder as to why he’s rigid. I can see the discomfort registered on his face. My thoughts are inconsistent and I drift to a more pleasant memory.

I remember watching him sleep. I had never watched someone as they slept before I met him. Truth be told, I had never been involved this deeply with any other man. I watched everything about him. I watched his face when he laughed and when he was serious. I could now read his different expressions. I could read his body too, and saw how his muscles changed after a workout, when we were resting, or watching television. I watched him breathe. I could read his breathing when he was passionate or when he was cold with a chill.

Momentarily, I drift to the present. As I stood there, I wished to be near his body. I currently am watching his breath. I want my head to be on his chest with each rise and fall of the air he inhales. I want to be in his arms. I had peace and security knowing that every curve of my body fit most perfectly within the angles and folds of his…

I remember coffee. His lips are so dry and I know that he’d much rather be with me, having a cup of coffee…

 

 

“Mrs. Cole, there’s no way to tell what a person in a state of emotional trauma is struggling with. Aria seems to be completely disconnected when she’s away from Mr. Sinclair,” Dr. Dominic gently explained. “It wasn’t so long ago that she experienced the illness and grief of losing her father. She now has witnessed the accident involving Mr. Sinclair. Compounding the two traumas, it may take her a while before her psyche allows her to connect and feel the emotions that one would normally feel when witnessing such a devastating event. At present, she appears numb and withdrawn whenever she’s taken back to her room. She only shows any positive emotion when we allow her to visit Mr. Sinclair.”

Concern shrouded Jeannie from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. The thought of her daughter being in pain, emotional or otherwise, caused her heart to break.

“She will recover, won’t she?” Jeannie pleaded, a slight sob catching in her throat.

“I believe she will, with time,” said Dr. Dominic. “What Aria witnessed, from the accounts we’ve received, was an extraordinarily stressful situation. It was terribly traumatic, and she wasn’t in a position to help the person she loved. She was helpless. She hasn’t spoken much about it. Her verbalization is consistently about Mr. Sinclair’s condition. All we do know is that she witnessed something terrible to someone she loves and that she was powerless to prevent it. It was a perfect cocktail for emotional shock. Emotional illness is just as real as physical illness; you just can’t see what has been broken with your eyes.”

Jeannie lowered her head as Dr. Dominic sat across from her. She could no longer contain her tears, shedding them for Aria, as well as for Declan. The couple that seemed so perfect for each other had now hit the perfect storm. She could only shake her head in disbelief.

“I just can’t believe that she won’t come out of this.”

Dr. Dominic placed his comforting hand on hers.

“I can assure you that we’ll do everything we can to help her.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jeannie said through tearful eyes. “Anything you do for her, and for Declan, is very much appreciated.”

 

 

My Aria
. My beautiful girl. I feel that I’ve failed you. When I met you, sadness was reflected in your beautiful eyes. One glance into those eyes was all it took for me to love you. I didn’t know that at the time, but at that moment, all I wanted to do was make you happy. Growing to know you,
we
evolved into a love like I’d never known, and I could see joy take the place of sadness in you. Now all I see is sadness stealing its way back…and I’m the cause.

You look so fragile, yet I want to crush you in my arms. I
need
you in my arms. I
want
you in my arms.
That
is where you belong. When I hold you, we’re a perfect and unique fit.

I so badly want to assure you that everything’s going to be all right. I want to ease your mind. I want to tell you that I’m here for you. I will always do what I think is best for you; I promise. I will always put you and your needs before mine—
always
. I love you, baby, with all my heart. I want you to know that. I want you to
feel
my hand holding yours…I want you to
feel
my strength…
somehow
. I want you to know how beautiful you are to me. There’s
no one
else like you in my world.
There has never been anyone else
that I’ve ever allowed into the places in my heart and life that you now claim as yours.
Please, baby, please

 

 

…Oh, babe…there has never been anyone else but you. Please, bear, please…

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