Page 59 of Sing For Us

I, again, can’t move.

My best friend is being taken into surgery.

“Blood. So much blood.” I keep repeating.

“Lana, they need to look at you.” A small voice is telling me. I look to my right, and it’s Evel. I nod mindlessly, and a doctor checks me out. I don’t even know how much time has passed.

Everything is such a blur.

Bang.

“Everything looks fine. Nothing is broken. I do advise that you monitor her closely.”

“Thank you.” I don’t even know who is speaking. My eyes are focused on a tiny dot on the floor of this sterile room.

“Ms. Osmanovic?” My head whips up, and a doctor greets me.

A hand lands on the upper part of my back, and I immediately lean into it, because I know it’s Noa.

Funny.

“My name is Dr. Anna Kapetanovic, and I am a resident in neurosurgery. Are you family of the patient?”

I shake my head. “No. But he made me his healthcare proxy years ago.”

“Good.” She takes a chair and sits down opposite me. “We took Mr. Novak for an emergency CT to assess the situation and see where the bullet traveled.”

I suck in a breath, while Noa goes still beside me.

The resident continues. “He is in critical condition. He needs emergency surgery immediately. Our goal is to remove the blood that's compressing his brain, control the bleeding, and relieve the pressure inside his skull. This is a very serious injury, and I have to tell you that despite surgery, there's a significant risk he may not survive or may never regain consciousness.”

Significant risk. Assess the risk. The operation will last a couple of hours. And after that he’ll wake up.

Doctors are here to minimize the risk.

Minimize.

“Who is in there with him right now?” I ask Dr. Kapetanovic.

“A highly skilled team of nurses and doctors. I came out here to tell you that the surgery is about to start and that I will be assisting on the surgery.”

“Okay. So, yeah.” No other words can leave my mouth as I don’t have the strength for it. The sterility of the hospital is suffocating me, and I don’t know if I even want to be here. My best friend is only a couple doors down, yet I can’t reach him. Strangers surround him while I should be there.

I should be the one holding his hand, praying that he makes it out alive.

Whenever I feel sad, or I want to talk to someone, I text Emin.

I can’t do that fucking shit right now.

In this moment I realize how alone I am. And that’s a dangerous feeling. When you are alone with your thoughts, you can focus on them and give them the attention they don’t deserve.

“Ms. Osmanovic, I advise you to stay in the hospital. The surgery will take a long time, but the hospital has an excellent cafeteria.”

“Doctor, will he survive this?”

“We’ll do our best.” And she is off.

I know what she was telling me, but I don’t want to believe it. My friend might not make it out alive.