I barely heard him

I glanced over, uninterested

My head barely turning from my phone.

The candy in his hand scatters across the floor

His hands fly to his throat.

His face is red

I freeze

His eyes are watering, his coughs are raspy

I can’t move

He’s falling, his lips are getting puffy

I lock eyes with him

“Help”

The fear in his eyes scream what his throat is too raw to say

I move

His Epi-Pen is in its basket on the table. I pray it hasn’t expired yet.

I stab him.

I never thought I’d have to.

He still can’t talk but he’s conscious and that’s all I care about

I grab my phone from the couch, pounding the screen

“911 what’s your emergency”

I beg for an ambulance

I beg him to stay awake

“What’s your address”

I don’t know

I can’t remember

I forget my street, my name

I hear someone screaming but I don’t know who

“Where are you”

I remember how often I made fun of him for his allergy

“Ma’am can you hear me?”

The scream sounds more familiar

“What’s your address”

The scream is me

“Ma’am-”

I remember my address

“The ambulance is on it’s way. Stay on the line”

I put the phone down

The operator says something else but I can’t hear the phone speaker over the ringing in my head

I hear a knock

I sprint to the door, mentally cursing our deadbolt

The EMT’s follow me into the house

He seems bluer than when I left

He seems younger than he ever has

A tear slides down my face

“He’ll be okay”

How long have I been crying?

“Are your parents home?”

Shaking my head makes me dizzy

“Do you know their phone number?”

I’m sixteen, not five

I bite my tongue

Nodding makes me even dizzier

An EMT hands me my phone

He’s bald and chubby and I almost laugh

He looks like my uncle

They lift my brother on a stretcher

I follow them out of the house

I barely remember to lock the door

Ambulance’s look bigger in movies

I call my mom from the back, my voice raw and barely audible over the siren

“I’ll be there in 20”

I try not to think about how scared she sounds

I wake up in a hospital chair

I see my mom in a chair on the side of the bed, sleeping

James is in the bed, grinning

“I knew you didn’t like me, but this is a new level”

He’s okay. James is okay

“Maybe no more m&m’s for you, kid” I say, relieved