My breath catches as the thought of losing her again scares the shit out of me. Tears fill my eyes as I run out of the bathroom to dial 9-1-1. I give the operator all of the details and she tells me that someone should be here within two minutes. Racing into the bathroom, I kneel beside her as the tears start to spill down my face and fear and horror seep into my soul.
“Don’t you dare do this to me again. Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you again.”
Her breathing slows and the color of her skin dims to a pale white. I grab hold of her face and look deep into her eyes.
“Raya, I beg you. Stay with me. Help is on the way. Stay with me.”
Duke
Minutes later, the emergency responders barge into the bathroom. They immediately pick Raya up off the ground and place her onto a stretcher.
As one of the EMTs straps her in, he asks, “What happened?”
“I fell asleep on the sofa and when I woke up I heard her crying in the bathroom. The door was locked so I broke it down. She cut her wrists with my razor.”
They pull the stretcher out of the apartment and I follow them.
“How long was she in the bathroom?”
“I don’t know, maybe about fifteen minutes? I was asleep, though, so it could have been longer.”
The two responders carry her stretcher down the stairs and into the ambulance. I jump inside the back as the driver takes off and rushes to the hospital. I hear the sirens wail as we zoom to the emergency room, racing through the busy New York streets.
With drip cords inserted into to her arm and a heart monitor attached, I notice the beeping fluctuate speeds. I place my hand in hers and squeeze, slowly breathing to gain some sort of composure. The EMT places an oxygen mask on her mouth, “She’s lost a lot of blood and her breathing is shallow.”
I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces as I watch her slip away from me, “Please, I can’t lose her again. Please save her.”
“I’m trying the best I can.”
Just as he says that, the heart monitor flat lines and my heart sinks into my stomach. I feel bile rise into my throat as the dread fills my chest. Everything is happening so fast, it’s hard to focus on it all at once.
The EMT starts to perform CPR on her, applying compressions to her chest. The heart monitor continues to flat line. All I can do is cry and say a silent prayer. Please don’t leave me again. I need you, Raya. I can’t live without you. I didn’t even get a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Please, Raya. Give me that chance. As he continues to perform CPR, I comb my fingers through my hair and let out a deep breath.
“Come on, Raya, fight it! Pull through for me!”
Then, all of sudden, the heart monitor starts to beep again at a consistent pace and a heavy weight is lifted off my shoulders.
The EMT studies the monitor, “Oh, thank God. I thought I lost her for a second.”
Minutes later, we arrive at the hospital and Raya is rushed into the operating room. I follow the rush of doctors and nurses spitting medical terminology but understand that she’s lost a lot of blood and will need to be stabilized in order to receive a blood transfusion.
As they take her away, a doctor comes up to me, asking what happened and I tell him everything that occurred in the apartment.
He enters some notes into his iPad, “Is she on medication? Do you know if she took anything?”
“Yes, she’s on medication but I don’t think she overdosed. I just found her in the bathroom trying to slice open her wrists. Please, doctor, she’s all I have.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder, “We’ll do our best.”
He walks away into the operating room and I crash into the wall next to me. Violent sobs ripple through my body as fear, anger, and failure fill my entire being. My hands ball into fists and I begin pounding the wall as I bawl for Raya.
“Fuck! I can’t do this. I can’t lose her again.”
My body slides down the wall and I crash onto the tile floor. I place my hands over my eyes and tears stream down my face.
A nearby nurse notices my outburst, “Sir, are you alright? You need to sit down. Come over here and relax. Would you like us to call anyone while you wait?”
I look up at her as she pulls me off the floor, “She means the world to me. Please save her.”