Now Cynthia lay unmoving but still breathing, eyelids slowly shutting. Kene panicked. One rule from years of watching movies is that dying people should never close their eyes. she rocked her friend.
“please open your eyes. don’t close them. open them”. Cynthia’s fingers were cold and thick. Kene remembered times her own fingers were swollen lifeless after holding ice-block.she chocked on the thought of lifeless. Earlier on, Cynthia had been moaning in deep pain and screaming “please. don’t touch me. i I won’t tell anyone you came. please”. the agony swept through Kene leaving her shaking like a leaf blown by the wind. now Cynthia was quiet but alive. Kene had heard it said that delirium is an anesthetic. Her friend no longer looked like she was feeling pain. The cold night air blew Kene’s hair as she stayed crouched by her friend in the open back jeep.
The driver drove recklessly, speeding past all vehicles. Kene had no thoughts for that. she rocked her friend again.
she found herself singing i love you. you love me, and as she sang to the barney song, something within her dropped and made her think she should be asking for forgiveness of sin in case it would be her last time. Hot tears streamed down her face at this. Emotions chocked her voice she couldn’t sing.
Cynthia was going to live. They were going to have babies in their families in future, and exchanging stories on parenting. They were going to be Christians who didn’t need to confess their sins, with death afloat. It wasn’t going to end here.
So she sang i love you, you love me. we’re best friends like friends should be. A loud siren made her look up. An ambulance drove past them on the other side of the dual carriage. “she’s here. The precious one is here” Kene croaked to herself “she’s here”.
Her friend vomited again. This time, the puke was with blood. It all looked surreal.
i love you. you love me. we’re best friends like friends should be. with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you. won’t you say you love me too? she wiped the catarrh from her nose and lips. “common say it Cynthia”
”uhm?” Cynthia slurred. Kene gave in to grieve. she buried her head in the crook of her knees.
The Jeep came to a stop. she looked up and recognized the familiar UNIVERSITY COLLEGE HOSPITAL as the driver collected the tally and sped in again. “we’re here” she looked at her friend, she paled “no no no no. we’re here”