Prologue
Hi, my name is Brad Taylor. I'm 16 years old and I just got my license. It's great, really. But don't expect me to jump up and down with excitement. The only way for you to get me to do that, is if you built me a time machine, so I could go back five years ago. If I could do that, I could fix everything. But you can't do that, can you?
I'm sorry. I shouldn't make you feel bad. It's not your fault, it's mine. I'm the only one to blame for all the things my family is going through right now. They may tell me that's not true, but I know they're just trying to spare my feelings.
And here I go again, making it all about me. It's not about me, my life is going great, which is exactly the problem!
Okay, maybe I should explain to you what happened first.
It all started five years ago, I was 11 and my borther Randy was 10. We were playing in the garage, even though dad always told us not to. That only made us want to do it more...
Flashback
'Come on Brad, catch me if you can!' I run after my little brother, as he just laughs and runs towards the hotrod. He climbs onto the beams that would turn into the bottom half of the car. I stop running as he starts to balance on the beams.
'Get away from there Randy, you're getting footprints all over the new hotrod.' He just rolled his eyes and walks on the beams, making sure to plant his entire foot on it. 'I'm warning you Randy!'
'What, you don't like this? Am I annoying you? Oh, look at me, I'm getting footprints on a big piece of junk.' He laughs as I try to grab him.
'Come on, Randy. We've worked really hard on it, trying to make it look good. Just stop it!' He sticks out his tongue.
'Catch me if you can Brad. I mean, I know you're not that smart, but you're taller than me. You should have caught me by now.' he laughs as I lunge at him again.
'Okay, that's it! I'll get you.' His eyes widen in mock angst.
'Oh, no. Someone help me, Brad is going to get me!' I glare at him and we both smirk at each other as we stand across from eachother. I lunge at him and he steps backwards.
Everything seems to go in slowmotion as his foot gets caught underneath one of the beams and he starts to fall backwards. I want to grab him, but I'm too late. My eyes widen in shock as I see my little brother falls backwards and lands his head hard on the workbench in the garage. Then he just lies still, eyes close.
When I finally get my body to function again, I rush over to him and try to wake him.
'Randy? Are you ok? Randy, can you hear me? I'm sorry. Please be ok!' I shake him frantically. I start to panic as he doesn't respond. I have to go get help! But who? Wilson, he'll be...
I feel anger rising as I see a smirk start to form on my brother's face. I hit him in the guts as he starts laughing and opens his eyes.
'Oh man, you should have heard yourself. Randy, I'm sorry, please be ok! Priceless!' I glare at him and hit him again.
'I can't believe you! I really thought you got hurt.' He still smiles, but it quickly fades as he realized I'm being serious.
'Alright, I'm sorry. I was just having a little fun.'
'Well, don't. It wasn't funny.' I try to stay mad, but I can't help but smile myself. 'Man, your head must really be too big for your body. You smacked it pretty hard, and for it not to hurt like that, it must be full of air.' His eyes widen as I laugh and quickly get away from him as he starts to chase me into the kitchen, also still laughing.
As I think about this, I should have checked him and made sure he was alright. If I had looked closer, I would have seen the blood that had appeared on the workbench. If I had seen that, I could have warned someone, anything. It might have made a difference... But well, I guess it's too late for that. He seemed to be fine, but then again, he was always great at acting fine when he wasn't...
A few hours after we're done playing, I am finishing up my homework, while he is playing some game on the computer in our room. I've noticed he hasn't said anything in a while. When I look over at him, I notice he seems a little out of it.
'Randy? Are you ok?' He seems to snap out of it and looks at me confused.
'Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine.'
'Are you sure? I mean, you did hit your head pretty hard on that workbench. Don't you have a headache?' he looks annoyed and goes back to play his game.
'Yes, I'm fine, Brad.'
'Okay, whatever. I'm finished with my homework. You want to play a game together?'
'Nope.' He doesn't look up.
'Ok. Well, I'm gonna go downstairs and see what's for dinner.' He doesn't respond.
As I walk downstairs I can hear my dad yelling at my mom.
'Jill, how many times do I have to ask you not to touch anything when you're in the garage.'
'I didn't touch anything.'
'Oh, really? Then why is there red nailpolish on my workbench?' Red nailpolish? There wasn't any red nailpolish on the workbench when we were in there... Was there? I stay on the stairs and listen to the rest of the conversation.
'Why would I paint my nails in the garage? I don't even have red nailpolish.'
'Really? Well, if it isn't nail polish, then what is it?' they go into the garage and I lean closer, so I can hear what they're saying.
'Tim, this isn't nail polish. I think this is.. I think it's blood.' Oh, no...
'Blood? How did blood get on my workbench? Did you cut yourself or something?'
'I haven't been anywhere near the garage today. It must be from one of the boys. I'll go get them.' I try to make myself invisible as she comes towards the stairs.
'Why would it be from one of the boys? They know not to go in there when I'm not here.'
'Tim, they're kids. Anything you say can. and will be used against you. Whatever you tell them not to do, they will do exactly that. Haven't you figured that out by now? Boys? Get down here, your father and I want to talk to you.' Oh, shit... what am I going to do? I can see my youngest brother Mark running past me, going downstairs.
I take a deep breath and go downstairs. If I don't go, they'll suspect something.
When we come down, mom and dad tell us to sit down. I can't help but notice Randy hasn't come down yet. Maybe he didn't hear her.
'Brad? Where's Randy?' I give her the most innocent look I can.
'I don't know, he must still be in our room. Maybe he didn't hear you.'
'Brad? Could you explain to me how blood got on my workbench?' I try to avoid looking at both of them, but that just gives me away.
'Brad, what happened? Did you play with one of your dad's tools and cut yourself?' Think, think..
'Uhm, yeah, I cut myself. Yeah, that's it.'
'Really? Where, let me see it.'
'See what?'
'The cut. Let me see it.' I'm really starting to panic now.
'Okay, fine, I didn't cut myself. It's Randy's blood.' Okay, didn't expect that to come out of my mouth. Mom looks shocked.
'What do you mean? What happened?' Well, I better tell them now...
'Look, it's not a big deal. We were just playing in the garage and Randy climbed onto the hotrod. I tried to get him to come off, but he wouldn't listen. So, I climbed on it, too. I just wanted to get him to stop making the hotrod dirty. But when I tried to grab him, he fell backwards and hit his head on the workbench.'
My parents look at eachother with wide eyes.
'Why didn't you say anything?' Mom rushes to the stairs.
'Because he said he was fine. I didn't want us to get into trouble for playing in the garage. I never saw the blood, we just continued playing.'
Dad looks at me with an angry face. He wants to say something when mom yells for him from upstairs. She sounds upset.
'Both of you, stay here. We'll talk about this later.' He runs after my mom.
Me and my brother sit downstairs in silence as we listen to my mom as she starts screaming my brother's name. My heart is pounding in my chest as we both wait to find out what's going on...
Needless to say, it turns out Randy wasn't fine. Mom found him lying on the ground, unconscious, with a gaping wound at the back of his head. They called an ambulance, who arrived in about ten minutes and rushed him towards the hospital. Mom went with him, while we drove with my dad in silence.
After doing some tests on him, the doctors said it was just a concussion, he would be fine. We could go see him right away. I felt relieved. I think everyone did.
But the moment he opened his eyes, our lives changed. He couldn't see.
My parents were angry with the doctor. How could he say he was fine, when he couldn't see anything?
The doctor tried apologising, but it was too late...
At just 10 years old, my little brother had gone blind. And it was all my fault...
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A/N Let me know what you think! Sorry about the long chapter, I didn't know where to stop :P
Please read and review! Love, Baxxie