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Blue Wasps
Stooped at the side of sterile bed, hand in hand with the one who you have loved your whole life. He has pushed you down, pulled your hair; drove you mad. Then beat anyone else up who did the same. “Everything's gonna be okay.”
The heart beat in his wrist beating against your own, reminding you that life still runs through his veins. The scar on the back of his hand catching your idle eye. You had locked him out of your fort in the back yard when he got that, he tried to climb through the window. “Can't you leave me alone?”
The steady pulsation of his heart drops. Alarms go off. Something is wrong, a blur of blue scrubs rush into the room and they swarm over his body like a horde of angry bees. You hate bee's, especially when they kept you from your brother “It's just a sting! Don't be a baby.”
His personal swarm of blue wasps shout codes you can't understand, Your mind races, as do they to revive his failing heart.
“Clear!”
All the things you should have said.
“Clear!”
The things you could have done.
“Clear!”
The time you wished you had.
The steady flat tone. The sinking of your heart, and the stinging of your eyes. “Please wake up...” You prayed he would open those bright eyes, and tell you everything’s gonna be okay. After all, he was the only one you would believe.
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