CHAPTER 23

Chapter 23

*Leo Qi*

It’s been nearly four hours since Debbie, Sophia, and Chris vanished into Christy’s fortress. They should’ve been back an hour ago.

I’ve been restless the entire time, anxious to hear any news that might have leaked from the fortress. However, neither Alex nor Suchet had received information on Debbie’s status, as I’d been disappointed to find out the last time I checked an hour ago. I have had no way to know if she was even alive. All I can hang onto is her promise, the promise she made as she stood on this hill right before she left, her promise that she’d be okay.

When Suchet comes racing up the hill at top speed, I immediately perk up. He skids to a stop in front of me, panting, and gasps, “They’re back!”

Before the last word has fully left his lips, I’m already tearing down the grassy hill, towards the city.

There is so much adrenaline coursing through my veins that I don’t even feel tired from the running. All I’m thinking about is Debbie. In just a few minutes, I’ll see her again.

I burst through the double doors of Town Hall, almost shaking with excitement, but all of my high hopes ebb away when I see the somber look on Alex’s face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, looking around frantically. “Where’s--?”

Alex cuts me off, looking me in the eye. “Leo, the mission was successful. Chris and Sophia brought the key back.”

I should be happy, I know that. But all I can think is, Chris and Sophia?

What about Debbie?

I can’t move or speak. Please, let Debbie be okay…

“Debbie tried to distract Christy, but she sustained a major head wound. She’s in the hospital right now, on life support. They say… they say they aren’t picking up any brain waves.” Alex’s voice gets quieter with every word. “She… she won’t make it. I-- I’m sorry.”

Finally, he has the decency to drop his gaze.

I just keep staring at him, still unmoving. What?

Debbie won’t make it?

Debbie, with her lively eyes and bright smile and sweet voice, won’t make it?

How could that happen?

She can’t die. She can’t die and leave me here.

She promised me that she would be okay.

She promised.

The world seems to have stopped as I try to process the information, the sympathetic faces surrounding me blurring together.

“Are you okay, Leo?” Alex seems so far away.

I force myself to pull it together. No matter what they say, she must still have a chance. Right?

“Can I go see her?” I ask.

Alex hesitates. “I’ll take you to her room, but you have to stay outside. Come with me.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and guides me towards the direction of the hospital.

I don’t really see or hear or feel anything as I walk. Everything is numb, just so numb.

There’s a part of me still thinking that she has a chance, that she could live. She’s Debbie. She can’t give up that easily. That part of my mind is desperately enforcing this theory, feeding my hope, and the rest is accepting it, wanting to believe it.

Except for one part of me that seems to be dying.

We finally stop outside a room in a drab white hallway with a sign on it that reads Debbie Dong in all caps. I find myself puzzling over why the doctors put Debbie in such a dull place, the plain tiles and bricks clearly a misfit for her vibrant, colorful spirit.

I put my hand on the doorknob and attempt to turn it, but it’s locked. I frown at Alex, puzzled.

“You can’t go in,” Alex informs me.

“Why not? Why can’t I see her?” My voice rises. “You’ve already taken everything from me. Do you have to take this, too?”

Alex looks ashamed. “I can’t let you go in. She won’t hear you anyways. She’s brain-dead, Leo. You can’t save her. No one can save her.”

Suddenly the full force of the realization hits me. She’s brain-dead. I can’t save her, no one can save her. She’ll never wake up. She’s dead.

“Let me in! Let me in!” I pound on the door and shake the doorknob. Alex grabs my wrists, but I’m stronger than him. I fling him to the ground and kick at the door, to no avail. Alex scrambles to his feet and backs away.

I keep going, venting all my rage and frustration and sorrow and anguish for the world to hear. “No, Debbie, why? WHY?”

I can’t save her, not this time. She’s dead. She’s never coming back. She’s dead.

Officers arrive, burly men with stern faces, who grab me and attempt to drag me away. I beat them with my fists and kick them as hard as I can.

"Let go of me! Let me see her! I want to see her!" I scream, the words ripping themselves from my throat, full of grief and rage.

"Please! I just need to see her! Just one last time!" My voice cracks, ragged and choked with pain, a pain I can’t fight back any longer.

Finally, I sink to the ground, exhausted and gasping with sobs, all my energy gone.

"Please, just... just one last time." One last time, because she's gone and she's never coming back. She’s dead. I shake and tremble, drowning in the whirlwind of heartbreak I’ve been thrust into.

She’s dead.

I don’t know how long it is before the door finally opens.

I get up slowly, my limbs aching. There’s blood on my knuckles; I realize that it’s mine. I don’t even feel the sting. I only care about one thing.

Debbie is lying on the hospital bed, her arms folded neatly over her chest, the morning sun basking her in pale light like a shroud. Numerous tubes stick out from her, keeping the air going in and out of her lungs and her heart pumping blood through her veins.

I kneel next to her bed, then hesitantly touch her face. Her cheeks are warm, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with every breath.

She’s just sleeping. She’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

With her small hand in mine, I recall Alex’s words. How absurd they seem now. She’s definitely not brain-dead. Just sleeping. I’ll shake her and she’ll wake up.

Everything will be okay. Just like she promised.

I hear footsteps behind me and turn towards the sound. Several white-coated doctors, all wearing masks, approach me. One clears his throat nervously, and my scalp prickles with foreboding.

“Excuse me, sir. We need to unplug the patient,” the doctor says, his voice gentle but slightly condescendingly.

Unplug the patient?

It takes me a moment to realize who he’s talking about. Then, my confusion morphs into anger. They want to take her off life support, when she must still have a chance at life?

I fold my arms across my chest and stand up, putting myself between Debbie and the doctors. “No. You can’t just give up on her! She still has a chance!”

“She doesn’t have any chance at survival. She’s brain-dead,” the doctor says back, his tone soothing but sad.

I don’t listen to him or his lies as I shake Debbie’s shoulder. “Debbie, wake up.”

My eyes search her face, desperate for anything, any sign that she might be okay.

She doesn’t stir.

“C’mon, Debbie, you need to wake up now.” I say, almost pleadingly.

Still nothing.

“She won’t wake up. Her brain is dead!” an impatient-looking nurse pipes up.

“No,” I insist, “she’ll be fine. She promised me. She wouldn’t break her promise.”

I kneel next to Debbie. “You told me you would be okay, remember? You promised me.”

When she still gives no sign of life, something inside me breaks. I’m dimly aware of tears sloshing down my cheeks in a salty torrent of despair. Everything around me is swirling and shaking, as if the world has been crushed like an eggshell at my feet, cracked and broken. I just can’t stay strong, I can't keep fighting, I can’t do it anymore. I’m nothing, crushed and helpless, a desperate soul suffocating in my own grief.

“Wake up, Debbie! Please, you have to be okay! You can’t just die, you can’t just leave me here alone! I need you, please don't die on me, please don't do that to me! You promised me you would be okay. You promised!”

I bury my face in her pillow and sob into the soft folds. “Why did you have to go? Why did you have to break your promise? Why did you have to die?”

Debbie is dead, and I’m alone. I’ll never see her smile, never hear her laugh, never feel her warmth, never again, because she’s dead and I’ll never be able to bring her back. I’ve finally broken, I’ve shattered into a million pieces and scattered in the wind, and this time Debbie isn’t there to hold me together.

When I close my eyes, all I can see are my memories of her, of Debbie watching the sunset next to me as we huddled under the tree, of Debbie on that hill, so beautiful and so brave, her eyes shining with energy… the memories keep coming, pouring over me in waves and waves until I can’t breathe. How can someone like her be nothing more than a memory, now? Why can’t I save her? Nothing I’d ever felt can compare to the pain I feel inside right now. This is a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

Debbie has never broken a single promise before. Why did she have to break this one?

All I can hear is her voice, gentle but strong, saying, I’ll be okay. I promise.

She promised me, and now it has all been shattered to dust, along with everything inside of me.

“Wait, Debbie, please,” I choke out.

She’s dead, and I’ve never even told her how much she mattered to me.

“Debbie, I love you.”

In another world, another universe, another dimension, I hear a soft clicking sound.

Then the heart monitor stops beeping.

I let go of her hand.

I love you.

And Debbie slips away.