~ Porcelain Doll ~

by

Joel Betancourt

Hillary slept beside Patrick. At midnight, Patrick began twitching. Muscles in his body had violent contractions. His shaking woke Hillary.

“Patrick, Patrick, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Wha... what?” Patrick asked as he came out from under sleep’s hold.

“Patrick, you’re shaking.”

“My head. My head hurts. It hurts so much.”

The muscle spasms continued.

“Patrick, you’re... you’re scaring me.”

“My... my head. Hillary, my head.”

“What’s going on?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

“I... don’t know. Oh, God!” A pain ripped through Patrick’s face. “Oh, God!”

“Patrick, what... what is it?”

“Oh...” The muscles in the left side of Patrick’s face contracted all at once. His face twisted over to one side. “Oh, God.”

Patrick brought his hand up to his mouth. His fingers on his left hand had straightened themselves out. He tried to relax them but he couldn’t.

“Oh, God! Help me.”

“Patrick, Patrick, you’re having a seizure.”

“Hillary... hel... help me.”

A pain shot through Patrick’s body.

“Ahh...” cried Patrick.

Hillary jumped at the phone next to her bed. She rammed her fingers on three digits.

“Hello, yes... yes, please help me. My boyfriend is having a stroke.”

“Help me.” Patrick raised his hand toward Hillary. His fingers twisted in different directions. His hand resembled a contorted branch of a dying tree.