"Loss of consciousness

The night in the village was quiet except for the sound of the cold wind passing through the trees, whistling softly, moving the dry branches and stirring up some dust on the dirt road. The sky was black, without stars, as if it were a heavy blanket suffocating the light. The distant houses were dark except for a faint light here or there, and the smell of burning firewood wafted from some chimneys, signaling that the villagers had sought refuge from the cold inside their warm homes.

But in the midst of this cold, on the empty road, there were two children walking side by side. Aurelius, wrapped in a blanket he had taken with him, was trying to warm his frail body, sneezing now and then. Beside him, Vitus walked with steady steps, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"You should go back home, Aurelius, your condition is getting worse," Vitus said with a hint of reproach in his voice.

Aurelius lifted his head slightly, his eyes tired from the fever, but he smiled a half-smile and said in a broken voice, "I'm fine... don't worry."

But Vitus wasn't convinced. Aurelius never seemed fine. His face was pale, his eyes half-closed, and every few steps he would stop to sneeze or cough. It was clear that he shouldn't have been out tonight, but his usual stubbornness had made him do it. "Go back home, Aurelius."

Aurelius fell silent, not responding. He didn't want to return to where his father was, as his words about Vitus still hurt him.

At the crossroads, the two stopped. This was the place where they always parted ways. Aurelius would head towards his large house on the hill, while Vitus walked in the opposite direction, towards his small house.

Vitus sighed and said, "Go home, Aurelius. Don't play the hero now."

Aurelius laughed weakly, pulling the blanket tightly around his shoulders. "You're acting like my mother..."

Vitus turned to go on his way and said, "Go to your home now, prince." Aurelius smiled and said, "What a traitor," then they both laughed. Vitus stopped laughing and said, "Go to your house now." And indeed, each of them went their own way. Vitus felt a strong attachment to Aurelius and didn't want to part with him. So, as they drifted further apart, Vitus would glance back every now and then, hoping Aurelius would turn and wave back, but Aurelius didn't. He kept walking forward without looking back. Vitus felt a strange mix of embarrassment and longing, telling himself that this was the last time he would look back. But when he turned, a strange feeling overcame him.

And when he turned, Aurelius wasn't waving.

He was lying on the ground.

Vitus froze for a second, as if his mind couldn't comprehend what he saw. Then, without thinking, he ran toward him quickly.

"Aurelius!" he shouted as he dropped to his knees beside him.

Aurelius's face was even paler now, his eyes closed, his breathing weak and barely audible. He had lost consciousness.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Vitus muttered, his heart pounding in his chest, his hands trembling as he gently shook Aurelius's shoulders. "Wake up, don't do this now!"

But there was no answer.

Vitus didn't think much, there was no time to hesitate. He extended his hands, lifted Aurelius with difficulty, feeling his frail body burning with a disturbing heat. The fever was consuming him.

The house... he needed to get him to the house.

Vitus ran, carrying Aurelius in his arms, his breaths quick and shallow, the cold biting his face. The house wasn't far, but it felt like it was miles away at that moment.

When they reached Aurelius's house, everything was quiet, the lights were off, and there was no sign of life. He didn't know that Aurelius's father had gone out to search for him in the backyard.

But suddenly, he saw two bright lights approaching quickly from a distance.

It was a car.

The only car in the village. Aurelius's parents' car.

Vitus, panting, stood in the middle of the road and waved his arms. "Stop! Stop!"

The car stopped quickly, its lights casting a sharp shadow on them. The door opened, and a woman hurried out.

It was Aurelius's mother.

"What's going on?!" she asked in a worried voice, then looked at her son in Vitus's arms. "Aurelius!"

She didn't let him explain, quickly taking him into the car. "We need to go to the doctor immediately!"

Vitus turned to go, but the woman grabbed his wrist. "You're coming with us."

He got into the car, the doors closed, and the car sped down the dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

"Tell me, what happened to my son?" Aurelius's mother asked, her voice trembling with concern.

Vitus was sitting next to Aurelius, watching him, and everything inside him was screaming with guilt.

He should have forced him to go back home from the start. He should have noticed that he wasn't okay.

He should have done something before he collapsed.

He gripped his hands tightly, staring at his friend who was breathing with difficulty, his eyes closed, his face pale.

"It's all my fault..." he whispered to himself, while the car sped towards the village, cutting through the cold night with anxiety and fear. He didn't answer the mother's question.

Inside the speeding car, Vitus was watching Aurelius with concern, hearing his intermittent breathing, his face still pale. Then, suddenly, Aurelius's mother took something from her pocket. It was a small device Vitus hadn't seen before. She pressed a button on it, then placed it to her ear.

"Darling," she said in a tense voice, "Aurelius is sick. I'm on my way to the hospital. Hurry!"

Vitus didn't understand exactly how she was talking to someone who wasn't there, but it wasn't the time for questions. All he cared about was getting Aurelius to the hospital as fast as possible.

---

Inside the hospital, the bright lights reflected the coldness of the white walls. Vitus sat on a wooden bench in the hallway, while Aurelius's mother stood at the door of the room, her arms crossed, her eyes filled with worry. No one was speaking.

Then, after a few moments, the door opened, and a tall man entered the room. It was Aurelius's father, wearing a dark coat, his eyes sharp, reflecting a little tiredness and a lot of sternness.

"How is he?" he asked in a dry tone.

His wife turned to him quickly, anger evident on her face. "How could you let him go out when he's sick? We didn't let him go to school, how could you let him go out to play?"

The man looked at her, then turned his gaze to Vitus, who was sitting in the hallway, staring at the floor. He didn't say anything, but his look was enough to make Vitus feel the weight of guilt more than he already did.

Vitus lowered his head, his hands tightly gripping his knees. He knew it was all his fault. He should have stopped him. He should have prevented him, but he didn't.

The room remained silent for a few moments, with only the sound of medical devices inside and the pulses of anxiety felt by everyone.