When we die, where do we go? Is there a heaven and hell, or is there simply nothing? The lights shut off, the world goes quiet, everything we have ever worried about gone in an instant. Pain and misery people felt could be fixed with something so small as death. Their minds could be free of worry, free of anything bad has ever happened. We could be released from the life we live in now and continue to the next chapter. A better chapter.
I thought of the pain I have had to endure. The loss of my mother, her life taken from me without warning. Her face still lingered in the back of my mind always warning me about the things I could not control. The soothing Italian voice from her songs faded along with the memory of our family together. Before the clashing of death vs. life. Before my sister was robbed of her years, forced to say goodbye too soon. I watched her grow ill, side by side, we never left each other in that hospital room. She became so thin, so fragile, I had to be careful I wouldn't bruise her hand when she was passing on. Leaving this life. My life.
There I stood, in the middle of the night. The stars twinkled brightly, and the moon lit up the train tracks. Looking down I noticed my hands shook violently. The crisp clean air settled my nerves as I took deep breathes. Fear couldn't change my mind, I was ready. It was a beautiful night to come home, to see my sister and my mother. Their embrace was the only thing that could make me feel better. I missed them so much it physically hurt. At least soon, that pain would disappear.
To my left, I heard a loud horn bellow. The train sped forward, its headlight grew larger with each second. Lights flashed at the level crossing, two long stripped barriers lowered on each side of the country road. With a shaky breath I ducked under the barrier, positioning my feet steadily on one track of the two that were there. I waited. In the dark I could see the wheels rattling as the train hurried on. Two minutes from now I would be free. I closed my eyes, picturing my family waiting for me. My hands gripped the sides of my shirt subconsciously as I knew the impact would be here soon.
"Hey!" the scream was small, but loud enough for me to open my eyes. I was blinded by the bright light. "Move!" they yelled more forcefully. I stood there frozen. Almost. So close. The wind knocked out of me as I fell onto my back, my head bounced on wooden tracks. I leaned on my side, gasping for air then a strong gust of wind blew my hair back, wheels raced by on the tracks in front of my feet. I felt something grab my arms and pull me back behind the barrier.
My bottom landed harshly on the asphalt. I reached up to touch the back of my head, my fingertips were sticky with blood when I looked down at them. The back of my arms was scraped and bruised from the harsh fall. "Shit." Only then did I look up to see the man who ruined my night. The moonlight glistened on his shaggy blonde hair. He leaned down as he took off the school backpack and threw it next to me, it landed with a heavy thud. "Are you okay?" I focused more on his face, he looked young but still older than me. His mouth hung open slightly as he breathed heavily. I noticed one of his front teeth were chipped. "That looks bad," his hand reached out to touch the bleeding wound on my head. I leaned away before he could. "Sorry, sorry," he held his hands up in defense. "What the hell were you doing out here?"
My legs wobbled as I pushed myself up on my feet. That was a bad idea. Blood rushed to my head and I stumbled forward to keep from falling. Black dots danced across my vision. "Woah, take it easy," the blonde boy gripped my elbow securely. I slowly came to the realization what had happened. I was still here, still breathing, still without my family. Instinctively I jerked my arm away from his grasp. The street barriers rose once the train had passed and the lights stopped blinking. Tears stung my eyes as I watched the train disappear into darkness. The small city's lights twinkled from the direction I came.
"Hey, where are you going?" he called after me. I stepped over the tracks carefully not to lose balance and fall. When I reached the other side, I wiped my wet cheeks with the sleeve of my aviator jacket. I almost had them back. "Wait!" I turned. The blonde stumbled over to me quickly, he adjusted the back pack over his shoulders. "Should I call someone?" he reached for his backpack.
I adverted my eyes. "No," my voice was quiet and broken. I continued to walk. With each step my head pounded, I pressed my cut-up hands against my throbbing temples. Next thing I knew fell onto my knees, the world seemed to be rolling like a wave in the ocean.
"You might have a concussion," the boy crouched beside me. He lowered his head undermine and looked at me. I tilted my head up, his face blurred before focusing again. "Look, my place is right down the road," he pointed at the old street winding further away. "I can find you a ride and clean that out." His eyes darted to the throbbing wound. I didn't answer, I swore if I did I would throw up. "Come on." He swung my arm around his shoulders. I pushed myself onto my feet. A strong arm wrapped around my torso, fingers pressed into my side.
It took a while for us to get into the same foot pattern. He was much taller than me, at least by five inches. My arm hurt as I was forced to stretch to keep it around his wide shoulders. I blinked slowly, my feet dragged behind me and I almost dropped to the ground. He caught me somehow with both arms, my head dropped low, blood pounded against my skull. "Almost there," he grunted. "Come on." I felt my feet lift off the ground. My body bounced as he adjusted me into a bridal carry. My eyes struggled to stay open, limbs flailing limply as my head rolled to the right, into his chest.
The sound of his shoes hitting asphalt changed to dirt and pebbles. Eventually we made it inside some sort of building. It smelled like old wood and rusty tools. I forced myself to look around. It was a small old barn, with boards missing, various farm tools nailed to the walls, and three dimmed lightbulbs lit the small bedroom like room. There was a folded-out table with books, a lamp, and a worn-down green swirl chair tucked in the corner along with a makeshift bookshelf of crates stacked on top of one another. To the right a twin sized bed, a faded quilt was folded neatly on the end, a blue comforter tucked under the mattress. Mismatched rugs of various colors and sizes covered the concrete flooring. Besides that, there was nothing. The door creaked shut. He carried me over to the bed, carefully placing me on the edge. The springs strained under the weight. I placed my feet on the ground.
The now very tried blonde boy reached under the bed and pulled out a plastic box, he popped off the lid. Inside were canned foods, a loaf of bread, and water bottles. He handed me one. It was warm. Shakily, I twisted off the cap. He sat down on the floor across from me, legs bent at the knee, and leaning back on his hands. I took small sips. The refreshing liquid soothed my dry throat.
"What were you doing out there?" he asked. His eyes looked over me and fell onto the white plastic hospital band around my wrist. I felt his stare burning into my face. When I didn't answer he said, "Were you at the, you know." Yes, I was. The only reason I was in this town somewhere in North Dakota is because I was sent to a, lets just say a place for crazies. I was told this one had the best success rate, but they didn't. At that moment I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. I winced and tentatively touched my bloody hair. "Right, sorry, I can get that."
He walked over to the crates filled with books and random papers. I looked at his clothes, he wore blue jeans that didn't fit him quite right, too small. And a grey hoodie. The left sleeve was stained with blood from carrying me here. I couldn't see what he was doing until he stood up. In his right hand he held a roll of gauze and ace bandages. He also carried a bottle of rubbing alcohol. On the bed he laid out the supplies.
"Look down, please," he told me. I did as he said, my head hurt too much to really care. I closed my eyes to keep the nausea at bay. "I have to wash out some of the blood, I can't see a thing." He examined the gash some more before bringing up a towel from under the bed. The towel was soft around my neck. "Okay, lean forward." I did. Luke warm water from the bottle I was drinking poured onto my hair. He made sure to keep the water from overflowing and dripping onto the bed or my clothes. He dabbed off the blood as best he could. "It's not that bad," he admitted. Sure felt like it. "This might burn a little." Before I could react, my scalp burned with a fiery pain. I gripped the comforter under me. How badly I wanted to scream out. "I know, I'm sorry." A gauze pad was pressed onto my head firmly. Pressure seemed to sooth the pain a little. With his free hand he grabbed the ace bandages and with great concentration, wrapped my head tightly but not too tight. He tossed the towel on the floor across the room. I touched the bandage covering my forehead, my black hair fell over it in messy curls.
"Thank you," I said, my tongue felt like sandpaper again.
"Of course," he smiled at me. There was a cardboard box beside the bed, aggressively tapped. He put his things on that instead of walking them back to his desk. "I'm Will," his hand stuck out in front of me. I looked up at him.
"Nico," I said. I did not return the greeting gesture. Will frowned and dropped his hand to his side.
After an uncomfortably long silence, Will sat down on his bed, keeping a respectful distance between us. I appreciated it. Although fear started to intrude my mind. I didn't exactly know where I was, or who this person was, or why he lived in an abandoned shed. My knees were pressed together tightly, and my hands were still gripping the blanket. I glanced at the front door, there seemed to be a lock, but it wasn't by key, only could be locked on the inside. That gave me a sense of relief. I looked around more. The tools that hung on display were shovels, axes, and saws. My chest tightened. I can't get my head chopped off, that was not part of my plan.
Will cleared his throat. I dropped my head low and stared intensely at my shoes. "I have a phone, if you want to call, someone can probably take you back." I glared at him.
"I'm not going back," I whispered. I'm not going. They couldn't keep me there. I'm eighteen now, they can't force me to stay. I shuddered at the thought of a nurse forcing me to take another pill or strap me down in me bed when I refused. Every time I took those pills my mind scrambled. All day I would stare out a window in a chair, dressed in white gowns. The train would pass every hour. I would think about what the train is capable of. If only I could get to it. Before I could continue planning an escape, another nurse or doctor would give me a cup of assorted medicines. Then I would forget. I closed my eyes and shook the memory out of my head. Just a memory now. I'm not going back.
"Okay," Will said. "You can crash here if you want." He stood up. There was a large wooden chest at the end of the bed I didn't notice before. The lock clicked open, he dug around in the clothes. Finally, he pulled out two other quilts. He tossed them onto the bed. "Are you hungry?" My stomach growled, I nodded. "Sweet," he sat on the bed once more and grabbed a can of chili from inside the plastic box. The tin can had a tab that easily removed the lid. "I can't heat it up, though. Chiron is probably asleep, I don't want to wake him up," he explained. I watched him balance two paper bowls on the bed between us, the chili fell into them. He tried to split it equally.
"Chiron?" I asked. The tense muscles in my arms and legs released at the thought of someone else being around. Will stuck a plastic spoon into both bowls.
"He lives in the big blue house across the strawberry field." I remembered looking at the strawberry fields far in the distance when I would sit in my old room. I wondered what it would look like up close. Will held out a bowl for me. I took it gratefully. His smile was seemingly perfect, except for the chipped tooth. "He lets me stay here for exchange of working in the fields," he shoveled a spoon full of chili in his mouth. I tried to listen to him, but the food was too good. Way better than chicken broth and unsalted crackers three times a day. Under a minute I inhaled the whole meal. Will looked at me with wide eyes.
"Sorry," I said. I placed the empty bowl on top of the cardboard box.
Will laughed, it sounded foreign. I haven't heard someone genuinely laugh in a long time. "Don't worry, I know how hungry I get sometimes." He sighed as he ate his food. I stared at the wall across the room.
I was uncomfortable, but I was happy I was at least away from where I came from. Yet I wasn't where I wanted to be. So close. So close to my family. "You shouldn't have pushed me," I said.
Will turned his head to look at me. "What?" the empty bowl was tossed onto the floor.
I felt tears swell up in the corners of my eyes. "I wanted it," god, I really did, still did. Spending another night in this hell was excruciating. Imagine finding the thing you've searched for and it being forced out of your grasp and leaving you right where you started. "You shouldn't have pushed me." I blinked, a single tear escaped my eye, quickly I wiped it away. Maybe tomorrow night I could try again. Yes, tomorrow night.
Will shook his head. "Nico, right?" he wanted for a response I never gave. "I'm not going to apologize for saving your life. I know you might think this is the only solution, but it's not."
Know? He didn't know me. He barley remembered my name. He doesn't know what I've been through or who I am. How could he possibly say such things? My brow knit together in confusion and anger. I forced myself up, taking two steps towards the door until Will was blocking my path. He held his hands up to stop me.
"You can't leave," he said sternly. I shot him a glare and tried to step around him. He held out his arm. "Just sleep it off, okay? You can go in the morning if you want. I want to keep an eye on your head just in case." I thought about what he had said. He was right in some way. I had nowhere to stay tonight. Sleeping on the side of the road didn't sound fun or warm. Tomorrow he can show me where exactly I am, and I will then decide what to do. I nodded. He sighed in relief, smiling.
Will returned to where we were sitting. He took a quilt, grabbed both ends and shook it out so it lay almost perfectly on the rug beside the bed. The other quilt was fluffed and positioned as a pillow. I walked over to the temporary bedding.
"No you don't," Will smirked as he saw me about to lay down on the ground. His hands gripped my shoulders and gently moved me over to the real bed. "You sleep here." I opened my mouth to reject. He simply waved his hand at me. "You're the one with a traumatic head injury. You get the bed." He smiled again, something he tended to do a lot, like he was filled with a bright joy that could never be extinguished. His eyes darted across my face. Will cleared his throat, "If you get cold let me know. I have a tiny heater."
He stood over the chest full of clothes. Will pulled down his jeans without a care in the world. I quickly looked away and sat down on the bed, busying myself with untying my shoes. I swore I heard him chuckle, or that was my imagination. I felt my cheeks grow warmer, I pushed down the sensitive feeling I was having. Certain guys seemed to have that effect on me for some reason. Every time the attractive male nurse Jackson with perfectly combed hair and sea green eyes would check in on me I would stumble over my words. I'm not gay, I knew that. I had a girlfriend in middle school, we even kissed once. Just sometimes I get flustered around certain people.
After I slipped my feet out of the black sneakers, Will lit a candle stick by his fake pillow on the floor. "Scared of the dark," he shrugged. He wore basketball shorts and a white tank top. I could see that he was much more built then I first thought. Compared to him I was like a twig. Then he flipped off the lights with a well-hidden switch by the door. Will collapsed on the quilt. His stomach resting against the floor, his arms crossed under the folded-up quilt to support his head better. I was thankful for the flickering candle light, it gave a warm feeling throughout the little home Will had made for himself. In some way, I was jealous of the life he lived, making his own decisions, a place to call his own.
I allowed myself to relax, laying down on a bed that wasn't in a psych ward was heaven. Truly something beautiful sent by an angel. I tucked myself under the comforter. I stared at the ceiling, trying my best to recall every memory I had of my mother and sister. I focused intensely. First, I remembered my sister calming me down after a thunderstorm. We were in our room, mom was soundly asleep in the other room. Bianca, my sister, hummed a simple tune as she weaved her fingers through my hair. I cried into her shoulders, with each thunder or flash from lightening I hugged her tighter. She continued to comfort me until the storm had passed. "See?" she told me. "All better now."
Then I remembered her on the bathroom floor, vomit stained her clothes and covered the toilet. She slumped against the wall. I panicked at the sight before me. Rushing down the stairs, I screamed at our foster parent at the time to hurry, that Bianca was sick. I was only ten at the time. I shook her shoulders, but her head rolled side to side. Hot tears streamed down my face. The foster parent called 911. I held my sister as we waited. Her hair sticky with sweat, she leaned against me. I hummed her the same lullaby mom would sing to us. All I could do was watch as three men in uniform placed her on a gurney and carried her into an ambulance. She squeezed my hand reassuringly before I was pulled back. The doors shut. They drove her away. I wouldn't see her until two days later.
"Nico?" Will's whisper pulled me out of deep thought. I didn't realize I'd been crying, I wiped my eyes quickly with the palm of my hand. My body trembled, trying to calm itself down. I felt the mattress sink to my right. Will was leaning over me, his knees on the floor. "Are you okay?" My lip quivered, I looked away. "Is it your head?" His fingertips brushed the bandage on my fore head.
"N-no," I stuttered. My breathing hiccupped, I wiped my tears again. Will slowly straightened his legs and sat on the bed. He placed his hand on my shoulder. I pulled away in shock, maybe even fear.
"It's okay," he whispered very softly. "Deep breaths." His thumb slid back and forth. I took a shaky deep breath. It didn't seem to be working. Will must have noticed because he laid down on his side next to me. His right arm wrapped around my chest and squeezed.
"W-What are you doing?" I asked. I tried to pull back. He tightened his hold on me.
"Shh," I felt his breath against my cheek. "Pressure helps. Keep breathing." His left arm found its way under my neck. I laid there, my shoulder digging into his chest, his arm holding me. I focused on my breathing. His method was working. I calmed down fairly quickly. "Better?" he whispered. I shuddered, not realizing before how close his mouth was to my neck.
"Yes," I told him. I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he wouldn't give. "Will," I turned my head towards him. The light from the candle turned the ends of his hair into a beautiful sunset yellow. Kind blue eyes stared back. He raised his eye brows in a question. "You can let go now."
"Oh," his face knit into confusion. His arm limped over my chest. "If you want me to, sure." I did want him to, I think. Will looked at me, when he noticed my facial expression didn't change, he slid his arm out from under my head and sat up. "If you need anything, let me know." He patted my leg then returned to his terribly uncomfortable bed.
I felt a sting of guilt in my chest. But it would've been weird, two strangers sleeping together, especially two men. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea. Well I could, but that was beside the point. No one looked at me like that, with attraction, never. There has never been one person who tried to make a sexual advance on me. I came to the realization that I was just unattractive, no sugar-coated reason. Why am I thinking about this? This isn't important.
I turned on my side, facing the wall. I watched the shadows flicker with the small light coming from behind him. How much time passed, I don't know. I breathed in the pillows scent of grass and strawberries, my eyes fluttered shut. In the matter of an instant the world around me shut off. I was pulled into a deep sleep.