My Benedict Butterfly. Chapter 3

My Benedict Butterfly. Chapter 2

My Benedict Butterfly. Chapter 3

Forty minutes to save her.

 

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illustration 2 pour le roman My Benedict Butterfly de Mary Blue Melville

Manu puts his foot down. Just one crossroads. Here we will be in two minutes.

– HERE WE WILL BE IN TWO MINUTES, YANNICK !…

Yannick pumps Sabine’s heart. One, two, three. Bob blows up Sabine’s lungs.

– TWO MINUTES ?! Yannick exclaims. This or eternity, if this is continuing, it will be the same. Anyway, we have only forty minutes to save her, now. Come on, Mrs ! Don’t drop us, here we are almost…

Yannick, while talking, continues to massage Sabine’s heart…

– Come on, come on, come on… Just a little bit more, hold on just a little bit more… Nothing a little some more… … Shit! So, do her a fix, bob !… Wait… It seems… Come on, come on… Breathe, breaaathe ! … YES !

Sabine breathes again. She moves scarcely her lips but we can hear clearly sounds. Some sounds loop. Intrigued, Bob leans toward Sabine to listen to her better.

– … bed…oom… ink… owder…
– It’s crazy ! She speaks ! In the middle of CVA, she speaks!! I have never seen that !
– Wonderful ! And what does she say ? Yannick asks while going down stretcher.
– I don’t know, a thingy like bedroom, pink and powder…
– Pink powder in a bedroom ? What kind of drug could it be ?
– She’s not a junkie, Yannick ! Answers Bob while looking to Sabine, thinking with eyes in vague. She is tired, corned at her home, she’s annoying herself and she dreams about a scattered of roses in her bedroom. That’s all !… No, this makes me to think more about Barbara Cartland… You know this stories with pink everywhere …
– Barbara Cartland when she’s dying ? My god, it’s a crying shame !! Yannick rolls his eyes. THAT’S VERY GOOD MRS ! CARRY ON AGAIN ! Pfffu, well… With a little bit chance, she will come back perhaps in her bedroom in pink powder… WE GET HER BACK  MANU ! THAT’S GOOD ! … ?! … Er… What is it this ? She’s crying now ! Is it sad Barbara Cartland ? Yannick questions Bob while opening one’s eyes wide.
– I don’t know… Answers Bob short of imagination.

My Benedict Butterfly. Chapter 2

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