( I wrote this after a good friend of mine was in a car accident. She was in a coma for over a week and I was beginning to think I had lost her. I said to someone that if she died, I was going to become the most pious ever, and when I died I would kick god's ass. This story came from that. It was going to turn into some guy trying to kill god and the devil was suppling him with the weapons to do it. )
2:00 A.M., the life of a florist is never at end, I briefly considered letting the machine get it before I snatched up the phone.
“This is Walt,” I muttered into the receiver. Thats me, Walt Peterson, flower maker to the, well anyone who would hire me. And at this moment, I wasn't too sure anyone would. After a hard and long day, I had a drink or eighteen, and I was a little hung over, but still mostly drunk.
Sorry to bother you, Mr Peterson, but this is Dr Richard Lynch at _________ Medical Center. Do you have a sister by the name of Gaby Peterson?”
My heart stopped, and I heard myself asking what this was about. My memory kept fucking up on me and the rest of the weekend were little more than bright lights and me vomiting. From what I was able to gather, this is what had happened: Gaby was driving from Florida to surprise me. At a particular nasty stretch of road, she lost control and hit something, police aren't too sure what. She messed up her insides really bad and had lost a shitload of blood from external and internal bleeding.
Fast-forward three days after my call. Gaby had slipped into a coma after the first night. Here I am kneeling next to her in ICU. I didn't know what to do so I started to pray.
“God, or Jesus, I don't know which. Please don't let my baby sister die. She is such a great person, she doesn't deserve to die. God, you better not let her fucking die. Please don't die, Gaby. Please don't. I wish I were there now, not you. I wish we could trade places, I wish we could. It isn't fair that someone as sweet and loving as you ended up here. Please don't let her die,” I sobbed, breaking down in tears.
I had to get out of there, get away, try to clear my head.