Dancing with death
Chapter 1
An eerie silence filled the room that Alfred was sitting in. With his head in his hands, he stole a glance at the hospital bed.
Laying there was an oh-so-familiar person.
Matthew Williams.
His brother.
An occasional beep of the heart-rate monitor echoed, along with his quiet breathing, and Matthew's faint breaths.
Tears slipped down Alfred's cheeks as he reached forwards and grasped Matthew's hand in his own, squeezing the cold and pale fingers, expecting the Canadian's body to spring to life, and his eyes opening...
But no, Matthew Williams was in a coma. He had been in one for a year now.
Alfred used his other hand to wipe away the tears that had began to drip onto his worn jeans.
He let go of the hand and put both of his on his legs as two men shuffled into the room.
"He's not any better, is he?" One asked, a short British man with wheat-colored hair. Arthur.
Alfred shook his head.
"Mon ange..." The other breathed out, pulling a chair beside Alfred. His golden, shoulder-length locks fell into his face. The Frenchmen huffed sadly. Francis.
Alfred looked up at Arthur who had positioned himself behind his chair, "Arthur, when will he wake up?" He choked out grievously.
Arthur sighed, shaking his head, "I don't know, lad." He said truthfully. "I... hope he'll wake up soon." He glanced at his comatose adopted son.
Alfred looked back at Matthew.
Him slipping into a coma all started June 21st, when Matthew and Alfred were returning home from visiting a friend.
"Alfred, you know it's illegal to jaywalk." A blond teen with chin-length hair said uncertainly.
"Aww, Mattie! Stop being such a stickler." Another blond teen with shorter hair and a defiant cow-lick said, dragging his twin to the street.
"I'm not being a stickler, I'm being smart." Matthew huffed, glaring at Alfred.
"Whatever! Come on!" Alfred said, charging across the street, leaving the other to gape precariously.
Matthew hesitated and raced onto the street after Alfred.
Alfred, waiting on the other side of the street stared in horror as a car rushed towards his brother.
It all happened too fast.
Way too fast.
Alfred shook his brother's unmoving body. His head tilted limply, blood trickling from his mouth, a few scrapes lining his cheeks and jaw.
"Matthew!" He shouted, shuffling in his pocket for his phone. After retrieving it, he pressed the phone button and began dialling the emergency number, his fingers feeling numb as he struggled to type the few numbers without ease.
His ears drowned out the shouting, honking and gasping as he sobbed out his name, the address, and the problem.
He lowered the phone, his vision going blurry as tears spilt over his eyelids, slipping down his cheek, and staining into Mattie's clothes.
Sirens whirred closer and police officers and medics scurried over to him, and Alfred dumbly stood up, dazed.
He watched as Matthew was carried on to a stretcher, which was pushed and lifted into an ambulance.
A police officer leads him off of the road and questioned him. He replied robotically, to stricken with shock and grief. After the officer had given up on questioning him, Alfred dialled another number into his phone.
"Hello?" The voice said, a British accent clear.
"Arthur..." Alfred choked out.
"Alfred," Arthur's voice was apparent with surprise.
"It's Matthew! He's-He's been hit by a car, and I need a drive to the hospital!" He stifled a sob.
"WHAT!" Arthur barked, "Where are you, I'm going to pick you up. You better not be lying!"
"I'm not!" Alfred told him the address, and soon a familiar car pulled up, a confused Arthur in the driver's seat, and a worried Francis in the passenger.
When they got to the hospital, they were told the news that Matthew was seriously injured, and after not waking for a month, the doctors concluded that Matthews Williams had fallen into a coma.
No one knew when he would wake up.
Alfred sighed.
"Oh mon Dieu, pourquoi cela est-il arrivé à mon cher Matthieu?" Francis said, clutching the bedside.
Alfred looked away guiltily, glancing at the window. Outside, people bustled around busily, and cars zoomed to and fro.
Trees swayed slightly, and people stopped to talk with friends, and some were waiting at bus stops, while others got into cars.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The heart-rate monitor began to beat faster, causing the three men to glance expectantly at the comatose patient.
But nothing happened.
Until the monitor beeped faster until it stopped.
Nurses rushed into the room, shooing the family away.
"Matthew!" Arthur wailed reaching his arms as if with just his fingers, Matthew would wake up. Francis and Alfred stood there in disbelief, their jaws gaping open and a shocking sadness tearing through their hearts.
Commotion filled Matthew's hospital room as Nurses fussed with the patient, trying to bring the teen back to life.
But to no avail, their prayers had gone unanswered, and Matthew Williams was pronounced dead.