I’m not insane; I’m not insane I repeated the words inside my head. Yet it was no use.

A quick bite to my lip and the metallic taste of blood that came from the now open sore in my mouth made me stop. Something was wrong, something was deadly wrong. It didn’t take him that long, did it? Oh I really didn’t know.

I got up and began to pace, walking in front of the cold steel door, I wanted to grab the handle and yank it open. I was becoming anxious. I needed to see him.

The nurse a white dress came out, a clipboard in her hand. I raised my eyebrows and clasped my hands, my palms were sweaty and my legs shook.

“W-what’s…?” My voice caught in my throat, I swallowed.
“What’s the news?” I whispered, feeling tears well in my eyes.

The nurse’s hard brown eyes soften; the feeling of dread fell into the pit of stomach. I could only expect the worse.

“He’s a coma,” The nurse sighed.
“We don’t know if he’s going to wake up.” She said, I lifted my head and felt a hot tear spill down my cheek, I reached up to wipe it; but there was no use. Already tears were spilling down my face.

Well, it’s better than him being dead, a whiny voice in my head said.

“But that’s not enough.” I said, clenching my fists.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” She said.
I shook my head, “Nothing.” I said, reaching up wipe the tears away.

The nurse nodded and walked off. I let my head hang low, this wasn’t fair. This wasn’t right, but then again, whatever was right? That’s right. Nothing.

I stepped up to the door, my hand felt heavier than ever. Did I even have the courage to open that door and see him? I didn’t think so. But for whatever reason; for whatever willpower I suddenly had, and I opened the door.

Jimmy laid there, tubes and machines hooked up to his body. The tattoo that went down his chest was showing, he was white as paper. This felt like a breaking point. The tears welled up again.

How could I have not seen this coming? These…stupid visions of mine; they helped everybody else, yet they couldn’t help the one I loved. What the fuck was that? It was curse. I used to think it was a gift. No, it was far from a gift.

I walked over to his bed. His pale body scared me, never had I seen him so pale, not even in Halloween makeup. I sat down in the chair next to his bed, I was shaking like a leaf off a tree, and I was so scared. This was my husband and the father of our unborn child. No, no, no . He could not die on me.

I grabbed the paper white hand of his, it was ice cold and that made me want to recoil. To get up and walk out, I didn’t want to be here.

I rubbed my thumb across the bones in his hand, I began to cry. I never deserved this, why was it happening to me?

“Jimmy.” I whispered, tears now spilling down my face. I wanted him to wake up.

“Jimmy, I love you, I love you so much. James Owen Sullivan, you have no idea how much I love you. Don’t leave me Jimmy. Dear God, don’t fucking leave me,” I said, I was sobbing now, taking in shaky breaths.

I stood up and placed Jimmy’s hand on my swollen stomach.

“Don’t give this up Jimmy,” I said, placing his hand back onto the hospital bed.
“Don’t give up.” I whispered.

The long beep of the machine made its notice.
He was dead.
Jimmy, my lover, my husband, the father of my unborn child.

He was gone.