The steady beep of the life support machine seems like the only steady constant in my life. It's more reliable than the people around me, who seem to come and go from the room as the days pass. It seems I've syncopated my breathing and my heartbeat to the sound, it's the only thing I'll listen to.

I can't feel my body anymore, I can't feel myself think. All I can do is sit and stare at the empty shell that used to be my mother. I sit in my chair beside her bed, and I can't seem to remember a time when I wasn't looking at her. It seems she's aged 20 years, her skin wrinkled, her limbs seeming frail and friable. Her facial expression is pained, her eyebrows drawn in and her mouth pulled down into a perpetual frown. A part of me thinks she'll look this way forever.

I don't know how long I've been here. I just know it's been a long time. I haven't moved an inch since I came, but I think Michael was here some of the time. I think he sat beside me for hours on end, just sat and held my hand. He was never good at saying the right thing, but his presence was enough for me. He'd come bearing food, but I never touched it. He'd stay for a while, and then kiss my forehead on the way out. Yes, I remember now... a sweet kiss, the way a father would kiss his daughter. Not that I have much experience with that.

Will comes too. Everyday, he pleads with me, over and over. He's worried, he says. I haven't expressed emotion and that's unhealthy, he continually reminds me. He also reminds me that my mother signed a 'No excessive measures' form, and that if she doesn't wake up in two weeks, that I have to pull the plug. But of course, I don't really hear Will. I don't hear Michael. I only hear the sound of the life support machine keeping Moonsie alive, beep... beep... beep.

"Hi, baby." My head snaps to the side, my heart jumping. I guess it scared me because it's the only voice I've truly heard in a long time. I finally tear my eyes away from Moonsie to look around the room.

I don't react to the mass of people in the room. They've all got the same look on their faces, 'Poor little girl with the vegetable for a mother.' Big Mary and the waitresses are here, Michael is here, Will is here, even Ana is here, looking like she's seen a ghost.

I don't say a word. I don't want to talk to them. I am just fine waiting for Moonsie to wake up, right by her side. I don't care what they think, and it disgusts me to even acknowledge their pity.

"She didn't respond." Big Mary whispers, like I don't have ears or something. "Ana, you try." Michael whispers back. "Um... alright."

I hear her slow footsteps as she walks over, standing beside me awkwardly. "Hi... Skipper? How are you doing?" I don't even turn to look at her, I want to be the first face Moonsie sees when she opens her eyes.

"You must be wondering why we're here... um..." She trails off, looking behind her. "We're worried about you, Skip." She breathes in defeat when I still haven't responded.

"Junior. We're all concerned for you, you've been sitting here for three days straight. You haven't touched food or water since then, and you're acting strange. We all just want you to be well."

I still don't respond. "Please." I hear Michael's voice. He's the only one who hasn't begged me. The only one who's let me be, but was still by my side at the same time. He walks over slowly, and kneels down, everyone else backing away from me.

"Hey, baby," He half whispers, looking up at me from his spot. I just look at him. He gives me a smile, a small one, but still sweet. "You feeling alright?"

I only blink once, trying to refocus on the sound of the beep. "They all miss you at school. The professor asks me about you everyday." So? Why would I care about anything other than where I am right now?

"You've gotta be feeling a little sick, huh? Hungry, thirsty? If you come with me, I can help you with that." If I leave, Moonsie could wake up, and I could miss it. I can't worry about myself right now when Moonsie needs me the most. If I was gone, and something happened, I would never forgive myself.

"Baby, please. Listen to me?" His fingertips brush against my cheek, and I notice an absence of feeling. Usually I would lean into his touch, smile, or at least feel a rush of emotion. But instead, I shrug his hand off. Right now, he's something distracting me from Moonsie. I can barely breathe through all this pity, and it's irritating me.

Eventually, I'm quiet enough that they all give up and leave. It's good, I didn't need them anyways, always trying to force me to eat or drink. Now I can focus on what matters.

****

One moment I was looking at Moonsie. Then in the blink of an eye it seems I was gone. Like I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran from the room like a wild woman. I was tired of not feeling, I was tired of watching Moonsie die slowly, so I ran.

I was hoping running would give me some feeling, and I think it is. I push through the doors of the hospital, bursting into the freezing cold outside air.

The freezing rain pelting against my skin doesn't stop me from running, if anything it propels me forward. I love this feeling, the cold and the wet, the air whooshing and burning in my lungs with each breath I take. I needed to leave that stupid room, and now, I can't imagine going back. I've never felt more alive. Again, the last birthday gift I ever asked my dad for comes to mind, Purple Rain. Rain is sweet, and smells like heaven. Rain is god's tears, which are now washing me clean and making me new.

It's night, and the lights of New York are vibrant, the sounds of the street echoing in my ears.

It's a long time before I double back to the hospital, running in through the sliding doors.

Everyone's heads turn when I reach the surgical floor, and the only sound is the drip of the rain water from my body onto the floor. I'm soaking wet, but really on the inside I'm only irritated that I can already feel the frosty layer of cold on my skin starting to melt in the artificial heat.

"Skip," I hear Michael breathe, stumbling out into the hallway. Breathing hard, I don't respond, trying to hang on to the last bit of tingle in my lungs. "Where have you been? Everyone's been worried." Will walks up beside him. "Junior, you're soaking wet! Are... you ok?"

You could hear a pin drop in here, as everyone waits for my answer. I take slow steps down the hall, until I come closer to the both of them, my feet squishing in my wet shoes. "I'm fine." I rasp, cringing slightly at the sound of my own voice after being left unused for so long.

Michael turns to follow me, but I hold up a hand. "Please... leave me alone. I'm going home."

"Back to school?" He questions, and I nod once. I will walk, alone. In the Purple Rain.

****

Ana tells me I look like a walking skeleton. That I am a shell of my former self. A cold, unfeeling robot. A robot partly because I continue to turn my nose up at the sight of any food or drink, even carrots, and because I refuse to express any emotion over Moonsie's coma at all. If I had any feeling or emotion, I would, but I don't.

The closest thing to feeling I can induce is the running, so I do it everyday, preferably in the rain or sleet. Ana sees this, tells me there's something wrong. If there is, I don't care anymore.

Every passing moment eases closer and closer to the unbearable moment in which I'll have to unplug my mother from a life support machine. I will be required by law to withdraw care.

These days I like to imagine I'm a star in the universe, a grain of sand on the beach of non-existence.

As I walk out of the dorm building to do the third rain run of the day, I hear someone jogging up beside me. "Hey Skip." Michael's voice sounds, and I notice my body doesn't respond like it usually would. My heart doesn't pang against my ribs, my mouth doesn't dry. It's like he's not there at all.

I don't respond to him verbally either. "How are you feeling today?" I shrug, speeding toward the already wet sidewalk. It's beginning to sleet, adding to the half-frozen puddles in the corners of the streets. "Will you please listen to me, baby?" Michael stops walking, and I slow a little.

"What?" I finally sigh flatly. "I know you're going through a really rough patch right now, that doesn't even begin to describe it, but... you're not yourself anymore. It's like you're a different person... It's really scaring me." I shrug again. "Why would you care? You avoided me for a month and that was just 'ok.'"

His eyes are wide, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Please. Come with me, have some food, some water. You need some real rest." Sleep hasn't come to me in a while, but I don't want it anyways.

"Would you just leave me the hell alone? I liked it better when you were selfish and only worried about yourself."

"Sweetheart..." He touches my arm but I slap it away. "What do you want?" I snap again, and he sighs. "I... I just wanted to hold you." He says, his voice cracking with emotion.

I can smell the pity, like rancid meat, and it's making me sick.

"Just... leave me alone, alright? I'm fine." "Where are you going?" He calls after me, but I ignore him. I'm probably gonna end up at the hospital, I seem to always find myself there when I go on these runs. I'll make my rounds, check up on my patients (avoiding Moonsie) and then I will run back.

Hopefully Michael and his puppy-dog eyes won't be waiting for me when I return.

****

No, he wasn't waiting for me when I returned, instead Michael was there when I reached the hospital.

Annoyed, I walk past where he is posted up at the nurse's station, making my way towards the OR board. Will is over there, updating it, and I wanna see what I can get in on. Saving lives again will have to make me feel something inside, fill the growing void in my chest.

"You know, it would make me feel so much better if you would just eat something, or drink a little water," Michael says, rushing to keep up with my quick pace. "Or stop running in the rain before you catch pneumonia."

"Will," I call out, ignoring Michael completely. Will turns, and finally I don't see the worried frown that called his face home for a long time. "4 more days-" "Yeah yeah, I don't care. I want back in the OR. I see you've got a craniotomy scheduled for an hour from now, let me in on it."

He sighs, playing with the piece of chalk in his hand. "Maybe you... back in the OR so soon isn't such a good idea."

I shrug it off. "I don't care. I'm going in with you."

A while later I am definitely regretting that decision. He basically sidelined me the whole time, insisting upon doing everything himself and when I called him on it he denied it.

I've operated with him several times and he knows that I do a lot of the work myself. It irritates me to a degree that he would try and force me to 'take it easy' but I don't say anything to him.

Michael follows me as I make my way to the hospital doors to leave for the day.

"Skip, stop. Don't run, I'll give you a ride back to school. I wanna talk to you anyways." I frown deeply. Talk to me? He means guilt me about my 'unhealthy habits' of late, a conversation I have no interest in at the moment.

So instead I run outside, into the wet, in the hopes of catching just the twinge of a feeling in my empty body.

Hello everyone ^_^ I hope you're having a good time reading this book! You've been good at helping me to my goal of 20 votes the last few chapters, so can you get me to 30? Thanks everyone, I love you all!! Another update soon :)