30 | thirty

Stacey called the police.

She arrived at Kim's house a few minutes after them.

Swallowing back her sick, she watched the stretcher rush out of the house, a limp body strapped to it.

Red. Everything was red.

And Stacey was becoming faint. Suddenly not being able to think or process what was happening. She just saw red, thick and bold and horrifying.

Stacey went in the ambulance and watched Kim's face covered by an oxygen mask. She didn't pull her eyes from Kim's. She didn't want to look further down, see the red, see the mess.

When the ambulance stopped, Kim was pulled out and Stacey numbly followed. She was stopped in the corridor and she watched the stretcher run away and out of sight.

Someone was talking in her ear, touching her shoulder, trying to get her to move. But Stacey just looked at the doors and continued to stare until someone walked out and came towards her.

They said they were sorry.

They asked if there was any family they could contact.

And then they kept talking, asking questions and touching her shoulder as if that would help.

But Stacey just stared at the doors, body rigid and clinging to a pathetic hope that maybe her best friend would come walking out of them too.

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