Hey, can you do me a favor? Imagine the worst day of your life... multiply that by a hundred. Now think of the worst break up you've ever had with a boyfriend or girlfriend... multiply thatby one hundred. Imagine what it feels like to have the universe cave in on you... now add in the pain of that same cave-in crushing every bone in your body. Now can you multiply that by a hundred? Now... think of the two people you love more than anybody else... now imagine they died right next to you.
Imagine this is your final hour... minute...What would you do? What would you say? Would you apologize for something you've done in the past? Or would you simply stand there in shock?
What if you never got to say what you just thought of and you die, leaving that person thinking they meant less to you than they really did?
Think of having your life flash before your eyes, as well as your siblings' lives, and not even having enough time to process what you saw before your life leaves your body. Imagine never having the "last words" that evil villains give people in movies before someone pulling a trigger. Imagine having the roof over your head at this very moment collapse on you, leaving you wounded and scarred for life. Imagine all the heartache in the world being forced on you in less than four seconds. Close your eyes, and try to picture what it would sound like to hear the grumble of rubble showering down on you, the sound of your siblings' screams of fear and pain, and the sound of distant sirens, signaling lost hopes, shattered dreams, and the bone-chilling realization that you won't make it out alive.
Good job! You just experienced a fraction of what I went through in the explosion at the Franklin Institute. Round of applause!
By now, you probably know who I am. I'm Ned. Ned Haverford Starling, surviver and friend.
I guess that sounded stupid, but I had to give you a taste of the Ned you know and love. The goofy, funny, out-right awesome Ned that everybody writes about.
I have to admit, I'm sick of seeing that Ned. Everybody acts like I don't even know the meaning of the word "serious," let alone how to be serious. Well, let me tell you something; I am very serious. Yeah, I'm a joker. I'm a bit of a "wild card" at times, but I know serious.
Serious is being completely focused on something, no joking or funny business allowed. And that's what I'm here to show you now, that I am what I just said.
Serious.
After all, if I wasn't serious, why did I hide when Isabel Kabra came over to our airplane, searching for suitable people to threaten? Why didn't I throw a pie at her face instead? Or squirt her with water? People laugh at squirting water all the time! Just thinking about it makes you get giggly! But the reason I didn't do it is because I knew it was a serious situation. With serious consequences. Nobody else would have been able to save the other Clue hunters if I had been captured!
I guess I hadn't really saved them, huh? I caused a scene because of my stupid migraines, and Amy saved them herself. Amy started, and then Dan. Soon everybody was sprinting toward Isabel with lightning speed.
I'll admit it, even if some of them hadn't been doing it to save me, I had felt loved at that time.
Too bad I was in too much pain to bask in it.
Clutching your head, groaning and praying, vulnerable... it makes you notice things. Like the fact that someone you barely knew had just risked their life to save you. But let me tell you something, as grateful to Amy – and everybody else – that I was for saving me, sometimes I wish they hadn't. They risked their lives to save a life that wasn't worth saving. Sure, everything was fine in the end, but that's not the point.
I wasn't worth it.
Period.
Why was I not worth it? Well, think about everything you know about me... Do I seem so worth it now? Lying, cheating, double dealing, stealing, no-good, two timing, double crosser! Now you know my true colors. Black! Blackblackblack... with a little bit of white here and there. Yippie. Good job, Ned! In a lifetime of unnecessary evil, at least you had your moments.
Sometimes I wish that I had died that night. Every time I get a headache – even a small, normal one, like everybody gets when they're stressed – I flash back to that night, and start to remember the migraines I used to get. I remember the first one of those headaches I got. I had screamed, and nurses and doctors alike had rushed in, and I couldn't even tell them what was wrong.
Weakness. I had found my weakness.
Weakness is something I shouldn't have.
What can I say though? You act like you're taught to act. Ian and Natalie Kabra are perfect examples of that. But this isn't about them, it's about me.
Me, Ned Starling, the one who threatened two innocent children for the sake of a stupid contest.
Me, Ned Starling, the one who stole candy from freshmen at my school. Just. Because. I could.
Me, Ned Starling, who put my brother's life in danger just so I could try to "help" my sister.
Boy, did that go wrong, or what?
I ended up on my knees, wanting to scream out in pain but being unable to do anything but groan out my misery.
I always used to make fun of Ted for being an idiot sometimes. But only now do I realize that it was he who was right, not I. He wasn't the idiot.
I was.
Truth be known, I miss being with my brother all the time. But ever since he got Flamsteed, he doesn't need me so much anymore. I had never been a big fan of Flamsteed, but now that I realize just how much it feels like he's taken from me, I like him even less. Most people would be thrilled to be rid of their disabled brother. Now I can do whatever I want, with or without him. Awesome, right?
No. Not awesome.
A
W
F
U
L
Why? Because my brother, my sister... they gave me a reason to survive. Without them, what am I? What am I really? Let's face it, I'm part of a set. Just one face mingled with two others. Do you know how that feels? What about this: you get kicked out of the one place you feel most comfortable in, and when you reach the cold streets, you're lost. Ever feel that?
I think I know how Amy and Dan Cahill felt when their parents died... during the Clue hunt... at school... everywhere. It must be awful, I would know.
I pray that no man should ever have to go through what I've been through, but let's face it:
We're Cahills. We never have it easy.
Do I have more to say? Of course. I could go on for days about what happened in my life before, after and during the Clue hunt that I've done or have experienced that I wish I could change. But I know I can't. Ever logical.
But life is better now. The surgeries have been done, and me and Ted made it out fine. Ted can see now, I can think clearly without a migraine baring down on me, and Sinead is happy that her brothers are back to normal.
So I suppose that there's a happy ending, even to the saddest of stories.
Even if the happy end, is really just the end.