Charlie Williams Monologue

I can feel his blood covering my hands, but why can’t I see it? I can feel a burning ache in my chest, but why can’t I stop it? Why didn’t I just help him? I could have helped him, I could have saved his life. So why didn’t I?
“Charlie, Charlie! We need you over here now, hurry up!” Yelled Madison.

I was on call, not much usually happens when I’m on call. kind of boring but I’ve got nothing better to do I guess. Same as every other Friday night basically. I stop at the 7/11 on the corner of Jay Avenue, buy a packet of cheese doritos and a purple powerade. Then I park in the third space from the left of the bin at The Royal Queens bridge. I wait, for a call, for someone who needs my help. But why couldn’t I have helped him?

After around
I’m here to help you. Can you hear me?” I yelled, he replies with a faint groan. I then check for a pulse, but I can’t find one on his wrist or his chest. I slide my sweaty hands up to his neck, with much relief I find one. As both my hands are around his neck he opens his eyes and looks straight at me. “hello sir, my name is Charlie. What’s your name?” I say but he doesn’t answer, he continues to look straight at me. “sir what is your name?” I ask again. I quickly look up and see that my team partner has just pulled up, she starts to unload the stretcher from the back of the van. I repeated myself for the third time, “sir, what is your name?” The man then starts to lift his left hand from his lap, his shaky hand touches mine. I look down to see him pushing my hand from upon his chest. I then look at him and he signals me to come closer to his face, so I do. I can hear him breathing, I could see the pain in his eyes. “yes” I say. “Get away from me you black dog!” He mumbles. “I would rather die then have your dirty slave hands on my chest, saving my life.” He states. I stepped back in shock, my heart had sunk right down in the bottom of my stomach. I tried to speak but my words were trapped. I had tingles all over my body all up my arms and legs. The colour of my skin, my culture and heritage, it had never really bothered me before. Not until now. Finally my words escape my mouth. “Sir, I just want to help you
My teeth were chattering, my handing shaking, my whole body was aching. Madison screamed “He’s not going to make it, we didn’t get here in time!” I want to help her but I couldn’t, I couldn’t move, I was frozen in regret. Three more paramedics started to help Madison but I still couldn’t move, I just kept thinking to myself that I just wanted to help. I was in a daze of everything that had happened that night, everything just happened so quick.

“Charlie, Charlie! We need you over here now, hurry up!” Yelled Madison. “Oh crap sorry, I’m coming.” I replied. I didn’t want to get up but I needed to help him, I needed to prove myself. He lay upon the stretcher still as a calm night, so peaceful yet so loud. I look at him and pray that he fights this and that he will be ok because for some reason I feel guilt, a huge pile of guilt on my shoulders. I stood back just because of a comment that I should be used to by now. His pain is all on me. I should have helped him sooner and maybe his chances at living would be higher, if