Alan- Dried Flower

Approximately a year and a half ago, as much as I remember.

A day marked by the usual drizzle, if not more. Raindrops cascaded down from the dreary gray sky, shrouding the world in a misty veil. The sound of water pelting against the windowpane matched the rhythmic beat of my heart as I stared out into the stormy abyss.

Just on the brink of succumbing to the captivating embrace of the gloom, the stillness shattered with the intrusion of my phone's clamor, wrenching me back to the present. Iva's name adorned the screen as it lit up. Swiftly, my fingers swiped to accept the call.

“Alan...” Iva's voice quivered, laced with an undeniable fear. “Noah… he's-”

A stifled sob fought its way through her trembling lips, a delicate sound that cut through the whirr of the phone's connection. I perched on the edge of my bed, my grip on the phone turning vice-like as it trembled within my grasp. “Iva, what's happened? What's wrong with Noah?”

“Noah, he... he's been in an accident,” she said, stumbling upon her words, “Please, Alan, you need to come here...”

My heart missed a beat. "Hold on, Iva... where are you right now?"

"Rutgers University Hospital... please, Alan, come as quickly as you can."

Each step seemed to stretch into an eternity, the weight of uncertainty growing heavier with every passing moment.

Finally, I arrived at the entrance, my breath labored, my heart an insistent drumbeat against my ribs. I approached the reception desk, my voice tense as I inquired about Noah's room number. The hospital corridors became a blur as I navigated them hastily, a current of anxiety and an urgent hunger for answers propelling me forward.

Upon entering the room, the heaviness settled over me, intensified by the scene that unfolded before my eyes. Noah's mother stood by his bedside, her countenances etched with aching sorrow, tears tracing glistening trails down their cheeks. The room seemed to absorb their anguish, casting a gloomy pallor over everything.

Iva stood close to them, her frame shaking with tension. Our gazes met, an unspoken exchange that hung in the air, laden with unvoiced emotions.

Noah's mother noticed my approach and reached out, her grip feeble and frail. “Alan, thank you for coming. We're at a loss. The doctors... they haven't seen any improvement, no signs of change.”

Her words pierced through me, stirring a wellspring of emotions that I struggled to contain. I stood by the bedside, a silent witness to the gravity of the situation, words caught like a lump in my throat, incapable of escaping.

After a wait, she continued with her strained voice, choked with emotion. "Alan, Iva, we're grateful you're here. Perhaps... your presence can help Noah in ways we can't comprehend."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, and I struggled to maintain my composure. I stood beside the bed, and just stood there, as if something had siphoned the strength from me to even utter a word.

How did this happen? I looked back at Noah's mom, wanting to ask how things ended up like this. But the look etched on her face told me... now was not the right time.

“Noah…” Not even a finger moved, his cold demeanor even colder, while his hair fluttered along the wind pushing in through the window gaps. My eyes were draining all the strength from me took even to keep gazing at him, enough so to make my legs treble. From the tip of my fingers, up through my spines to the edge of my fingernails, I could feel the same.

All of a sudden, Iva's gentle touch brought me to my senses. Her lips whispered in my ears, “Please, I don't want you to break down too.”

Her words ring at the back of my head repeatedly. She's right. Why am I breaking down too? This isn't why she called me to come here. Why am I losing my grip right now, that's too pathetic of me as a friend.

“I know it's tough for the both of you.” Noah's mom said, as she looked at Iva, “Especially for you, Iva.”

Iva sobbed without saying anything, as she hid her face with her hands. The depth of her emotions was too much to put into words. It was a storm of sorrow, making it impossible for her to speak clearly.

“Please don't be scared, Mrs. Aubrey,” I implored, my hand tenderly resting on Iva's arm. “Noah is strong, and we'll continue to be here for him. But you need to remain strong, for his sake too.”

Those words were all I could muster, pouring out of me like fragile whispers. Iva nodded, her eyes brimming with tears as she clung tightly to my hand.

Noah just lay there, as if in a deep slumber. His fingers didn't move, his eyes didn't blink, just his chest rising and falling...

Rising and falling...

Come on man, wake up already! Aren't you always trying not to make trouble for others? Can't you see they're worried about you so much? Just get up already!

The next day, Iva and I visited Noah at the hospital after school. Soft lighting casts a calming glow, guiding the way through the labyrinthine halls. The walls, adorned with artwork and messages were like glimpses of hope amidst the uncertainty.

“Healing begins when we find strength within.”

“Amid the darkness, there is always a glimmer of hope.”

But there still wasn't any light glimmering in the darkness for us yet. Shedding our burdensome backpacks, we would stand embracing the unknown that awaited us behind the door of Noah's room.

Noah still lay on his bed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically along the passing seconds. The room was adorned with bouquets. But it all seemed pale contrasting against the stark whiteness of the walls. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow upon the scene, yet no amount of light could dispel the darkness that cloaked the room.

Iva would take her usual seat beside Noah's bed, her hand reaching out to grasp his, as if drawing strength from their connection. I, too, would settle into a chair, my gaze fixed on the rise and fall of Noah's chest, as if willing him to awaken.

Silence permeated the room, the only sound being the soft beeping of the heart monitor. Iva would speak in hushed tones, sharing stories and memories, as if her voice was a lifeline that bridged the gap between reality and the void in which Noah resided.

“Remember that time we went hiking together?” Iva's jarred with a mix of nostalgia and sadness. “And that time too, when we went to the beach during the summer holiday. And that time when…”

Her words hung in the air, filled with a bittersweet longing.

“Do you remember that time, when we watched that boring movie together? You slept half the way through that movie.”

I watched as a single tear escaped the corner of Iva's eye, tracing a shimmering path down her cheek. “Please, say something, you idiot…” She wiped it away with a trembling hand, her fingers lingering against her lips, as if savoring the taste of a distant memory.

For days that stretched into an eternity, each visit blending into the next, a continuous stream of hope and uncertainty.

“Once you wake up, Noah, let's go to the beach again, the three of us together. Or maybe, we can go on a hiking trip again. We could enjoy the sunset from up there again someday.”

As time slipped by, an unspoken understanding settled between us. We larked in the simple act of being present, believing that our mere presence held a power that transcended words. We didn't need grand gestures or elaborate expressions; all we had was the solace of the three of us present here, together.

And so, the routine continued, day after day. The school would end, and we would make our way to the hospital, seeking solace and strength within those walls. We carried our hopes and fears, sharing them silently as we sat by Noah's side.

There were moments of doubt, moments when the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm us. The passing days made us more anxious.

But then, on one fateful afternoon, as Iva and I sat by Noah's side, a flicker of movement caught our attention. Noah's eyelids fluttered, as if he were trying to break free from the confines of his unconsciousness.

Iva's hand tightened, her eyes widening. “Noah? Can you hear us?”

The room held its breath, waiting for a response. And then, with a voice as fragile as a whisper, Noah spoke. “Iva…”

“Are you... alright... Iva?”

My breath caught in my throat, as I witnessed the penetrating impact of those few words. I stood there, rooted to the spot, my gaze fixed upon Iva's face. “What's wrong, Iva? I'll go and call the nurse, wait here…”

The sight of her, frozen in a state of shock, sent a shiver down my spine. It was as if time had suspended itself, holding its breath in anticipation of her reaction.

Without a word, she burst forth from the room, as if a whirlwind of emotions propelled her forward. Her sobs echoed through the corridors, diminishing with each hurried step. Moments later, a nurse entered the room, checking in on us after noticing Iva running away from here.

“What's going on? You shouldn't be mak-”

“Nurse, call the doctor quickly!” I interrupted, “Noah's regained his consciousness!”

As she heard that, she quickly reached for her phone, dialing the doctor's number. The doctor arrived soon, who then proceeded to do a series of tests, while in a gale of business, the hospital staff whisked away with Noah from the room.

The next day at school, I didn't approach Iva with what had happened to her yesterday. Our greetings ended with a single glance, and not a single word was spoken between us from period one to seven. Only that look on her face, as Noah uttered those words, still burned in my sight. That eerie feeling when I stole a glance at her, everything that proceeded afterward, all of it just felt like mixed-up puzzle pieces.

Days passed, and Noah's consciousness fully returned. I'd had so many things to ask him, so many answers I had been seeking. But the air felt too heavy for me to start asking any of them. Specially about Iva, and what had happened between them. But the silence had settled like a soft blanket, muffling the sounds of breathing and heartbeat.

A delicate scent filled the air, mingling with the soft sunlight streaming through the windows. The collection of bouquets stood tall in glass vases, their petals dry and frozen in a gentle dance, as if suspended in the moment.

Maybe another presence could've lifted our spirits. But waiting for that someone seemed futile. Should I tell him about that day, or should I keep it a secret? At the end, I couldn't even sort out the feelings in my own heart. Noah was the first to speak up, as we were just sitting there silently.

"Is everyone from the class doing okay?" he inquired, his tone carrying the question but not necessarily the weight of concern. "I guess I've made everyone worry about me since the accident."

“Everyone's doing fine. But they'd been really worried about you since you got into the accident.”

"What about Iva? How is she holding up?" His inquiry came as no surprise, yet no amount of time seemed sufficient to devise an adequate response for him. "Well, regarding Iva..."

"Is something wrong?"

“No, she's doing alright.” A half-truth, prefaced by a momentary hesitation. “She visited you multiple times to check in.”

"If you say so..."

“She had some stuff to do-” I fumbled, “so she couldn't come today.”

"That's alright," his tone now softer, almost a murmur. "Actually, there's something I need to share with you, Alan. Just you..."

"What is it? Is it of great significance?"

His gaze bore into mine, an unspoken urgency underscored by his resolute expression. "This might not be the opportune moment, but I can't let it go unsaid."

A gulp traversed my throat. The uncertainty loomed over me, fuelling a mix of fear and anticipation surging within me, the unknown stretching before me like an uncharted path. But I found myself utterly unequipped to anticipate the nature of what he was going to say.

Noah cleared his throat, serving as a prelude to the weight before beginning. "Remember how I mentioned wanting to become a photographer?"

Does he want to talk about his career? But it doesn't seem like that. “Yeah.”

"I haven't discussed this with my parents yet," he confessed, each word a deliberate step. “But I'm thinking of staying for another year in Camden, and during my senior year in high school, I'll move to Boston.”

Noah's words struck me with unexpected force. It wasn't something you'd anticipate from a friend who had just woken up from unconsciousness. "Noah, are you serious?"

"Does it seem like I'm joking?"

"No, but..."

"It was actually my uncles idea at first. He's started his own studio there in Boston. I think it will be a good opportunity for me-"

"Don't say it like that! Say that it's a joke, Noah!"

"Alan, I thought you'd understand..."

"Understand what, Noah?" My voice rose a notch, as my patience started fraying. "What do you want me to understand?"

He rolled his eyes, his nonchalant demeanor only fueling my frustration."It's not like I just came up with it out of nowhere. I'd initially put down my uncle's offer, but now I think it'll be the right thing to do..."

The right thing to do... does he mean about Iva? "What about Iva, how will you tell her anything about it?”

“No, I don't plan on telling her now…”

“But she is the one whom you should be telling it first. Isn't she-”

His fingers folded into a fist, slamming on the bed. “Don't tell me what I need to do. It's also hard for me, always ending up hurting her without even realizing it. You know, I'm sick of this.” A pained expression crossed Noah's face, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the fear and vulnerability that lay beneath his strong exterior.

“Then why are you telling me then?”

“I want you to look after her, when I'll not be here.”

“Are you joking with me again?” Through clenched teeth and with a strained voice, each word escaped me like a sharp exhale of anguish.

He remained collected, and proceeded with the same tone. "Alan, why can't you understand?”

I rose from my seat, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I said something I'd regret. “Don't try to make people feel the way you want, Noah. You'll only keep hurting them.” Without another word, I turned and walked away, my footsteps heavy with the weight of the storm that was passing over my heart at the moment.

“I want you to look after her, when I'll not be here.”

Can't he tell that he is the only one who can heal her wounds? I'm not the one who needs to be by her side. After all, I can't even tell what's in her heart, anymore.