My mind began to betray me - what was once a reel of joy turned into a surreal nightmare. The warmth of laughter and light was suddenly eclipsed by chaos. Blood. Screams. The metallic scent of panic filled the air. My hands - once steady - were now trembling, stained crimson, as if trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away.
The shriek of the ambulance siren wasn't just a sound - it was a scream that echoed the terror in my chest. The city blurred past the windows, but inside, time had slowed to a crawl. Every second felt like an eternity. Nurses swarmed around me, their voices urgent but muffled, like I was underwater. I couldn't make out their words, only the intensity in their eyes.
And then I saw him - my partner, my constant - his face pale, his forehead gashed, his arm blistered. He reached for me, but the moment was too fragile. His hand slipped from mine, and I felt a cold emptiness rush in. A nurse gently pulled him away, and I saw the hesitation in his eyes, the silent apology, the helplessness. He didn't want to let go. Neither did I.
I wanted to scream, to ask if he was okay, to tell him I was still here. But my voice was lost. My body was failing me. The pain was sharp, but the fear was sharper. I was scared - not just of what was happening to me, but of what might happen to us. My last memory before the world dimmed was his silhouette disappearing behind a curtain, and the unbearable thoughts that followed.
And then, it was my turn to bleed.