Live, Love, Lose - 35. Chapter 35

The stark smell of bleach was overwhelming. George scrunched his eyes at the bright light that was sipping through his closed eyelids. He felt powerless and heavy. He couldn’t move his hand, his head or his body.

He slowly started blinking, desperately trying to open his eyes and see what’s around him. Where was he? As blinding light slowly subsided he thought he could take a look around his surroundings. But his vision was all blurry.

His throat was awfully dry, and so were his lips. He tried to open it to say something, but all he could manage was a feeble whining. It sounded so much out of character. It made him sound like a wounded animal.

It was really frustrating. He wanted to know where he was. He couldn’t remember anything. His head was too hazy to allow him to have any kind of memory at all.

He tried to speak again, but the same thing happened. He tried over and over again, but it seemed that coherent sounds and words wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

It was getting annoying.

“George…”

He froze as he instantly recognised this voice. A shiver ran through his whole body.

“Oh my…” she trailed off.

He tried to move again, but it seemed that his body wouldn’t follow his brain’s command.

Next thing he knew, his vision wasn’t blurry any longer. He could finally see clearly. But he still couldn’t move. Had he got paralysed? He really hoped he hadn’t.

All he could see was white, and not the kind of nice and pristine white, but rather a dirty white colour, as if it had been there for so long that time had its bad effects on it, staining it and making it ugly.

He heard something that sounded similar to sobbing.

“Mum…” he surprised himself as he uttered that, as weakly as his previous whining.

It felt like an eternity since he had pronounced that word…

Wait.

He froze again. If he could hear his mother speak, it meant he was back home…

Unless he was only hallucinating. It could be a trick that his foggy and confused mind had decided to play on him.

With much effort, he finally managed to turn his head on the side.

There she was, kneeling down with her arms leaning on the bed close to him and watery eyes.

It looked so real. It couldn’t be his imagination playing a trick on him.

His stomach was suddenly overwhelmed by an unpleasant sensation. She took his hand and stroked the beck of it gently with her thumb.

This confirmed he wasn’t dreaming. It felt all too real. The feeling in his stomach only became worse.

He looked away from her and started shivering as his memory was getting back, at last, pieces by pieces.

He wanted to sit up, but it seemed that his movement was too brutal to enable him to do this properly.

“Easy! Let me help you,” his mother worried as she did so.

And once he was sitting up, leaning against the pillow, she took back his hand in hers.

He could finally have a proper look at his surroundings. He wasn’t at home. But he was still alive…

He was at the hospital…

He was now feeling nauseous and light-headed, his body shaking uncontrollably as the sudden realisation dawned on him.

He had failed to take his own life.

He was mortified. Even this he hadn’t been able to do it right.

“My precious little boy…it’s okay, you’re going to be alright from now onwards.”

That was the last thing he had wanted to happen. He unexpectedly jerked his hand away, keeping it close to his own body. This caught her off guard, and she was probably saddened by it, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be alone.

“Georgie…”

He wouldn’t look at her.

“Just leave.”

His voice was cold, just like his body should have been.

There was a long moment of silence, but he could still feel her prince near him.

“Please, don’t reject me…” she wept, she had to get a grip on herself to speak again. “I was so scared to lose you…”

He should have been feeling bad for trying to kill himself and making his mother cry, but strangely he didn’t.

“Why…why did you do that…?”

She wanted to hear it from his mouth, but he wouldn’t say it.

“George…” she insisted, her voice shaky and full of pain.

But he still wouldn’t tell her. She could insist as long as she wanted to, he would keep his mouth shut.

“That’s because of him, isn’t it? George! Please, look at me!” She sounded really desperate. “I have always known he would only bring trouble.”

“Don’t,” he uttered threateningly. “Don’t you dare badmouth him before me,” he snapped.

She was utterly shocked. She looked scared too. He could see it in her eyes.

“And it’s not because of him,” he was less aggressive as he spoke these words, but he sounded stern nonetheless. “But because of me.”

He said it emotionlessly, plainly and crudely.

Well, he had partly done it because of him, mostly, but he didn’t want her to spread her venom about him and blame him for it.

She looked much more shocked and astounded now.

She tried to speak again, but she was clearly at a loss for words.

He held her gaze. But he still thought that it would be better if she left now; for him and for her.

“Why…why…?” Was all she could utter with her broken voice.

How should he answer this? He wasn’t quite sure…

Perhaps he should simply tell her the truth as it was; but if he did, he would destroy the little bit of what was left of their bond.

“Because I’m sick. I love men as I should love women. I’m not interested in girls, they leave me indifferent, and I definitely will never get married.”

His mother looked like she could have had a heart attack right now.

She shook her head to show her denial. She was totally horrified as her mouth became agape.

“No…no…no…you…it’s…it’s only…you’re only going through a phase. You’re still too young to know what you really want, and you need time to—”

“I don’t need time, Mum! Nothing can change that!” He cut her off abruptly. “You don’t understand! You never have! I loved him! Loved him!”

He was on the verge of breaking down now.

He had completely how dry his throat and mouth were. He really needed water. His voice was hoarse. But he couldn’t spot anything that contained water in the bloody room.

He didn’t even feel like asking for it. It was silent again for too long. It seemed that she wasn’t ready to leave anytime soon. He really wished he could have avoided that.

“That’s what you think,” she ended up saying, not sobbing any more. “But as time will pass, you will realise it was only a fling, nothing serious, an experiment. And you’ll be okay. We’ll help you get better, and—”

“You’re really doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Pretending you don’t understand! I’ve never been into girls and never will! How can I make that get into your head? Do you think I’m happy about it? That I’m proud?! No! I’m not!!! You’ll never understand what it’s like! It makes me sick! I just wished I could be normal!”

He needed to stop shouting for a little bit, to catch his breath.

“I didn’t ask to be born and become like this. I didn’t choose to come into the world…”

His mother was completely speechless, still looking horrified and terribly upset.

The silence was too heavy, too awkward. Why couldn’t she just leave the bloody room? Couldn’t she stop being selfish for once and see he’d rather be alone?

He sighed in frustration. She probably just needed to recover from the sudden and violent shock to move.

She ended up leaving after a while, visibly still under the shock as she was walking away. She left without even looking back or saying another word. And he didn’t know whether he should feel relieved or punch the nearest wall for being so reckless.

He took another look at his surroundings before he completely went ballistic, to try to distract himself.

The room was pristine clean and gloomy with the typical hospital bed. The walls were a sickly green and white colour and the linens were greyish. The place looked nothing like a room where a patient should be motivated to get better. If anything the murky room was making him even more nauseous.

He didn’t want to get better anyway. He couldn’t. He would have to do it again. But he couldn’t fail this time. He really couldn’t.

Otherwise, he would be doomed.

***

Robert found George’s mother weeping in one of the corridors, one that was not that far from the room George was staying in.

“Eleanor…Please, do not cry. He will be alright,” he attempted to comfort her.

It seemed that she was too caught up in crying to even pay attention to him.

He hugged her, hoping it would help. She hugged him back tightly, holding onto him desperately, and sobbed against his shoulder. He just waited patiently for her to calm down.
She regained her composure after a few minutes, letting go of him and wiping her tears away with her hand. He took a handkerchief out of the pocket inside his jacket and handed it to her. She thanked him with a shaky voice as she took it. She wiped what was left of her tears with it and then blew her nose.

“I’m so sorry. It’s all dirty now…” she looked embarrassed as she spoke.

He gave her a reassuring smile.

“This is what handkerchiefs are made for.”

Her lips twisted upwards to form a faint smile.

“I’ll wash it before giving it back to you.”

“That is fine. I will wash it myself once I get back home.”

“No, please, let me do it. I really don’t mind.”

Should he really insist? He felt she was not ready to give in.

“Thank you.”

She offered him the same faint smile before she put it away in her handbag.

It was silent afterwards.

“He woke up not that long ago…” She informed him after a short while. But she did not look as happy as she should have been.

“Just leave him some time. After what happened, that’s all he needs.”

She nodded slowly and glanced down.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for him. You’ve always been there for him when he needed it.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe any longer. His lower lip quivered and he licked it nervously before biting the upper one. He was feeling nauseous, and now his legs were shaking.

“If I had been there when he needed it the most, he would have never tried to kill himself.”

Of course, she did not know what to reply to this. She was staring at him with sympathetic eyes, and he just hated it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she spoke after a while. “It’s that boy’s fault. He perverted him, manipulated him and turned his brain upside down. He’s just a degenerate and a nothing.”

He could not let her say that.

“Whether he was a good or a bad person during his lifetime does not matter. It is purely and solely disrespectful to sully the memory of someone who sacrificed his life for people who will never be grateful towards him or even remember him. The memory of the dead is sacred.”

She was left speechless by his words and looked too scared to dare say anything to refute this.

They both remained silent for an extended amount of time, obviously not knowing what to say any longer. If they spoke they would most likely say trivial things devoid of real meaning that would be pointless.

“You should go to see him now,” she was the one to break the silence.

He had been trying to brace himself as best he could for that moment, but he still dreaded it. That unpleasant feeling in his stomach did not help at all. It would be probably best to wait for some more time.

“I’d rather wait.”

But she did not quite look pleased by his answer.

“He needs your presence, your love, to know that you’ll be there for him. You’re a real father figure for him.”

He could not deny that she had a point. Since he had failed, he had to make up for it and show him he would really be there for him from now onwards. And besides, he had already known what it was like to fear something but do it anyway. This could never be worse.

“I will see you later then, I guess.”

“Yes,” was all she said as she offered him again that faint smile.

He was hesitant to leave her all alone. But she looked like she'd rather be alone. So the better would be not to insist. He walked towards the room and then knocked on it. Yet, there was no answer. This could only mean that he just wanted to be alone.

Yet look what happened when you left him alone… His mind reminded him.

He entered the room before he could think about it again, resolved to try his best to make things right.

George was sitting up in the bed. His eyes never left him as he approached him. He did not even react to his presence, neither did he acknowledge it. He could feel knots form in the pit of his stomach. He waited before he sat on the bed, taking the chance to examine him more closely now that he was next to him.

He looked impassive, lifeless, completely broken. This mere sight made his heart ache and his blood run cold.

Of course, he would not speak a word. What could there be left for him to say that he would be willing to share?

He sat on the edge of the bed in silence, looking for the right words that could help ease the tension a bit. But this kind of thing was never something easy to do.

A very long moment of silence elapsed as they had been both avoiding each other’s gaze.

“You know,” he spoke at last for he really had to say something, “after your father died, I thought about killing myself too.”

George did not say a word, but at least he spared him a glance.

“But you know what prevented me from doing it?”

There was no answer on his part, as he expected it.

“I realised I needed a reason that was worth keeping living despite this tragedy; something to hold onto, desperately. And I found it. My son. I told myself I had to force myself to keep living for him, to see him grow up and witness the change into the fine man he has become.”

He could see his words had an impact on him, even though he was trying his best to hide it and remain emotionless.

“And you as well. Because I promised him I would take care of you like my own son.”

He could remember the day when he died as if it had happened only the day before.

How weakened he had looked, the excruciating pain and distress it had caused him.

He had to stop thinking about it before he got completely depressed again. George’s well being was his top priority. He looked at him again and saw how he was on the verge of tears, which made the heavy and aching feeling in his chest become much worse.

“But I don’t have a son or a nephew either to hold onto,” he pointed out, his voice shaky and low.

“No, but you still have people who love you and care about you. You should never forget them.”

There was a long moment of silence that followed his words.

“I do not want to lose you too…”

Robert was surprised by how vulnerable he had just sounded.

Soon tears were rolling down George’s cheeks. He closed the gap between them as he wrapped his arms around him protectively.

“Please, do not cry…” The words were the same, but much shakier. “It will be alright, I promise."

They remained in that position for what seemed to be ages. But they realised they both needed it.

“You will not be able to go back home today,” Robert told him once they had pulled apart, and regained some kind of composure. “Doctor Spencer would like to keep you under observation for one week at least.”

This may not have been appropriate for the time being, but he needed him to know. George only looked down at his lap thoughtfully.

“But we will come to visit you every day.”

He nodded slowly as he glanced at him.

“Can I have some water?” He asked in a low and throaty voice after a few seconds only.

“Of course. You should have asked me before. I am going to go and ask Doctor Spencer if he can give me some, and then I will let you with him. Now that you are awake, he will most likely want to examine you and perhaps have a small discussion with you.”

“Okay…thanks.”

“But I will be remaining nearby. It will be okay,” he spoke before he hugged him again, but for a much shorter amount of time.

“We will go through this together.”

George still looked somewhat scared, but he needed to trust him.

They would find a way. No matter what it would take.

They would find it.

lockquote> Hi everybody! 😊
Well, it's official... I finished writing the last chapter of Part II yesterday evening Now it's time to start with the last part! Might be not as long as the rest, idk...
Take care and stay safe 💕 And have a good day/night 😊