The sound of rain echoed through the silent room, and rain drops raced to the bottom of the glass window of the room full of people. For a room full of people the silence was deadly, not a single person talked or moved or even blinked. The guilt was all around him, in the silence, in the rain, in the faint noises of the people walking through the halls outside the door. It swam through and around everyone else so that all of it could embed itself in him. His mother sat in the corner, a pitied and shameful stare burning holes in his skin. His sister next to his mother, tears for both he and his girlfriend cascading down her cheeks. His best friend, that had been there when it happened, and had narrowly escaped the fate he'd delivered to himself and Sally. So many people, so many stares, so much guilt. It felt as if another drop of guilt entered him he would explode, and he would no longer be a physical being, just crimson colored guilt covering the walls.
Thunder roared, shaking the room in a way with it's power, the rain came down heavier, making the silent room seem loud yet menacingly silent at all the same time. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell, he wanted to punch something, but most of all Roger wanted to cry. The silence left him room to wonder of Sally. Wonder if she'd shown any sign of waking soon, wonder if she was going to be with him or turn into a vegetable like his father had. He closed his eyes, in a painful moment the scene flashed before his eyes, and the sound of her scream rang out in his mind. A pained expression mangled his usually flawless appearance. His mother let out a sigh, and a sob tore out of his sisters chest. He didn't open his eyes, because he deserved to feel this. He deserved the pain and the guilt. Soon he fell into a sleep, a nightmare filled, horrid and restless sleep…
"He's gaining on us, Roger!" Sally giggled, the warm summer air running through her dirty blonde hair as she looked out the back window of his car. The same summer breeze floated over to Roger, carrying the sweet scent of her lavender shampoo, bringing a smile to his lips.
"Don't worry Sal. He's not going to pass us." Roger smirked, his foot on the gas pedal. His eyes glanced over to his girlfriend for a moment. His beautiful, funny, sweet girlfriend.
"There he goes." She mused, now facing forward and her eyes locked on the car that sped past their own. "No way." Roger frowned a bit, but it turned back into a smirk as his foot pressed down on the pedal harder and his speed raced higher.
"Go Roger Go!" Sally cheered, giggling softly afterwards as they drew closer to the other car that sped through a red light. It was early in the morning, about three. It seemed safe to speed through a red light.
"ROGER LOOK OUT!" Sally screamed, the joy no longer lacing her words. But it was too late, even as his foot slammed on the brakes. The other car came at them, headlights bright in their eyes. The van came crashing through their car, taking it on a wild ride. The car spun, the metal crunched, the glass shattered, the airbags deployed but seemed useless at this point. Noises of pain wrenched themselves out of Sally, who looked beaten and broken to a point of no return. "SALLY!" He cried, reaching for her with no luck as the car tore in half, leaving him separated from his girlfriend.
When he woke, it was his mother and him, alone in the room. Alone with his guilt, and alone with her pitied and shameful stare. "You were dreaming again." She sighed, her hand resting atop his. Roger knew she worried about him now. He knew she meant well. But with the shameful stare that she'd been giving him for years that had now turned to pity and sorrow mixed with shame, he couldn't let her comfort him. With tears welling in his eyes he looked away from his mother. Allison squeezed her sons hand gingerly, begging for his attention, which he eventually gave. "Sally?" He pleaded, his heart aching to know she was alright. "She still hasn't woken up, Roger." His mother cooed softly, which brought the tears back to his eyes. "It's been three weeks, she should be awake by now."
Roger hurt, in every possible way he hurt. Sally had brought him back from being lifeless and dull. Sally had made his life better after the loss of his father. "Roger they found traces of alcohol in her blood. The cops want to know what was going on that night, they want to know your relationship with her. You're 22 and she's 17 years old, she shouldn't have a BAC level, and she shouldn't be dating you! What were you thinking? Street racing, and drunk! She's 17, Roger. Why did you even take her to that college party? I told you that those parties were going to be something you would probably miss out on as long as you were with Sally." It hurt, the words that left his mothers mouth. Not only because she was ashamed of him for what had happened, but because she was bringing it up now. When he was at his lowest. "Why aren't you giving Craig shit about this? He was there too, you count him as your son too!" He shot back. "Craig got a talk too Roger, but he didn't bring his 17 year old girlfriend to a college party. He didn't almost kill himself and said girlfriend. There is more on you than him!" She shot back, ending with a sigh.
The room was silent again for a moment, before his mother decided to leave him be for a while. Leave him to wallow in his grief, grovel in his guilt. He remembered the day he met Sally. He remembered the way she looked, and how she acted, and what she said. He even remembered the her scent from then…
Roger stood next to Craig, is best friend who was practically his brother, his sister, and his mother. People in black stood around them, tears running down their cheeks for his belated father. There were people there that Roger didn't even know and he hated it. This was his fathers funeral, not theirs, why were they here? For a moment he glanced around, his eyes resting on a girl. A girl he'd never seen before, she was pretty. Petite with wavy dirty blonde hair and a solemn expression. He wanted to know who she was. He eyes followed the arm attached to the hand that was resting on the girls shoulder and found a woman who used to work with his father. Assuming the girl was the woman's daughter, Roger returned his eyes to her, only now she was looking at him as well. She offered a sad smile, which he returned to his surprise. "Roger…" Craig muttered, elbowing him in the gut. The priest was staring at him, waiting for him to drop his handful of dirt on his fathers casket.
One by one people did the same until everyone had dropped a handful of dirt. His mother planned an after funeral thing at his house, which irritated him more. He just wanted to be alone with the grief of his now passed away father. Once inside the house he locked himself away in his fathers office, a bottle of vodka in his hand as he twirled slowly around in the desk chair. Sip after sip he continued to twirl, eventually stripping himself of his tuxedo jacket and flinging it across the room to land at the door, next his tie came off and joined his jacket. He continued spinning and sipping in peace until he heard the door open and close gently. "Go away Craig.." He sighed, turning to see the face of the girl instead of his best friend. "Oh sorry." She breathed, shocked to have found him here. "I was just trying to get away from all the people…I'll go." She turned back to the door, but Roger stopped her. "You can stay." He told her, which got her to turn around and offer him another sad smile. "I'm sorry, about your dad." She told him, though she seemed to be forcing it. "So, why are you hiding out?" He offered, taking another sip from the bottle before offering it to her. "I hate funerals. And no offense, but I didn't even know your dad, my mother made me come. Roger, right? My mother told me your name. I'm Sally." She took the bottle and a drink without even flinching.
"Nice." He mused with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I'm more a tequila person, so that's nothing." She shrugged. "Wanna get out of here?" She offered, which earned her a face from him. "And go where, it's raining." She simply smiled and slipped out the door, which intrigued him, so of course he followed. Out into the rain they went, and Sally spun around until she was completely soaked. As he made it to her, she snatched the bottle and took another sip before handing it to him. Maybe it was the rain, or the alcohol in his system, or maybe it was just her. But something made him pull her to him and gather her lips in his. They were warm and supple, and absolutely perfect against his…
Another week passed and Roger was discharged, free to go home. But he moved right into Sally's room and refused to move. His hand held onto hers, and he sat next to her bed refusing to leave. "I swear if you die Sally, I will never make it by. You can't leave, you can't. You promised. No running, remember?" He whispered, brushing a piece of hair from her face. A month, that's how long had passed since the accident, and still she hadn't woken up. "Dude, don't hate me, but if she wakes up she's likely to have serious brain damage." Craig told him, which infuriated Roger. "She's going to wake up, and she's going to be as perfect as always." He snapped before returning to Sally's side. Another week passed, and still nothing. "We were told to take her off life support now, son. Her mothers wishes. I'll give you a moment to say goodbye." A nurse told him, exiting the room for a moment. His heart shattered. He'd actually killed his girlfriend. "Oh God, Sally." He breathed out in a shaky breath. "I am so sorry. It should be me, not you. It should be me." He whispered, his hand holding onto hers so tightly that if she was with him it probably would have hurt.
"Ooo." The sound was fragile, a mutter at most, but it came from her. "Sal?" He breathed, holding onto every last inch of hope. "Ou." She tried again. "Ouch." She finally breathed, her eyes opening enough to squint in pain. "Oh thank God Sally." He beamed, wrapping her in his arms. "It hurts." She breathed, and he set her down gently. "Sorry." He sighed, but she shook her head. "Not you." She sighed. "Everything else." He called a nurse in and ordered them to give her something for the pain, which in turn put her back to sleep. But the sleep that was filled with dreams and not the promise that she would die. His heart felt like the iron that had weighed it down had been chipped away at, and it was no longer heavy with grief and sorrow. Guilt still floated about him, but less of it now. No longer a sea of guilt. Because Sally was alive. The love of his life, his soulmate was alive.