Authors note: Hi everyone, and thanks for your wonderful reviews! Today, I have something important to tell you: I have started a new story called "The unknown date"! If you haven't read it yet, please go check it out!

Disclaimer: Same as always…

Chapter 18

The strong wall of sleep seemed unbreakable. He was so tired, so awfully tired, just thinking was backbreaking. Not that his back really was the problem, though, it was his shoulder that really hurt. It had to be some of a tackle he had been involved in! Not that he could remember any football matches…

Trying to clear his thoughts, Joe wondered why he was awake. Usually, Frank physically had to drag him out of bed. Today, it was just silence. Silence? Not really. A phone was ringing. Not his, though. Nothing to care about then, right?

Okay, so he probably should get up and warn somebody someone wanted to speak to another someone. The problem was just he was so dead tired he had never thought it possible. This was definitely more than a few cups of black coffee could fix.

Sighing inwardly, Joe wondered if he should use this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to wake his brother. Perhaps an icy greeting with a cup of water in his head would do it? Or something more scaring? Like – a spider? No, it wouldn't work out. Frank wasn't arachnophobia. Perhaps… No, never mind. He was too tired to get up anyway.

About to drift back to sleep, Joe suddenly felt an icy chill down his back. He couldn't really explain it, but somehow, he just knew something was… well, wrong. He felt too cold, and yet, too warm. The room, wherever it was, smelled kind of odd, and his whole mind was a blur. Perhaps he was sick or something? Yes, that definitely had to be it. So perhaps it was in the middle of the day and Frank and his friends were in school then? Wait, was it even school today?

To his dismay, he couldn't remember. He also realised his shoulder was hurt more seriously than a football match could have caused. But where was he? And what was going on?

Torn between a strong desire to just close his eyes to everything, and to make some sense of the situation, his curiousness finally got the better of him. Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes. A little dizzy, okay, but nothing more than he could handle. Next step was to sit up.

This time, the task was a little harder. He made it, but not without almost passing out. Sitting upright, gasping for air and fighting the waves of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him, he got a look at his surroundings. What he saw, didn't help him in his fight against hyperventilating and heart attacks. He was in a hospital! Alone! And the phone ringing was nothing but a heart monitor. But what had happened to him? And why in earth was he alone?

Being the drama queen he was, Joe couldn't help but go straight for worst-case-scenario. Had he been in a terrible car accident? Was his whole family... dead? Or was he kidnapped and found by some random persons and placed in a hospital in the middle of nowhere? Perhaps he had been unconscious for hours? Days? Years? Or what if he didn't remember anything simply because he was brainwashed? What if he resided in some kind of dreadful sci-fi world where the mafia had taken over the planet and...

'Calm down, Joe Hardy, this is not the way to do it. Think!'

Doing as he was told (Joe tried to be as obedient as possible when he told himself something), he tried to remember something that could explain the fact that he was in a hospital all alone, attached to a dozen of IVs and a beeping heart monitor. Finding it was a little too hard to both sit up and think at the same time, he decided to lie down again.

As his head hit the soft, white pillow, a crackling sound caught his attention. Placing a hand under it, he found a letter. Surprised, Joe wondered who placed letters under pillows, especially already opened letters, as this one was. The smile on his face quickly faded when he saw whitch letter it was. He had seen it before. It was the letter that made him give up.

F&J F&J F&J F&J F&J

It was too late. Too late to save him, too late to save himself. It was too late to live.

Frank Hardy stared at his father, his glance hanging by his pale lips. Joe was gone. His own little brother was dead. Dead! He was never going to hear him laugh again, never see his bright smile, never look into those piercing blue eyes. He was an only child.

Just the thought of it made Frank sick. How had he possibly managed to fail everyone so badly? How had he managed to turn his whole life into a complete disaster on a few days? His brother was dead. He had broken up with Callie. He had disappointed his parents. He had betrayed his nearest friend. He had lied to the court. He had confessed a crime he hadn't committed. Now, he was waiting on the judgment. No reason to believe he would be acquitted either…

He had asked his lawyer if it was possible to change statement. Of course the answer was no. Not that he really cared; the pain of knowing Joe was dead was too overwhelming to bother about something as simple as a trial.

The only thing Frank really wanted to do was running out of the courtroom and scream. Scream, yell, smash a wall. Kill the man who did it. Get revenge. Wake Joe up. Because he couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.

There was one thing that prevented him from doing it, though: He was so dizzy he had serious doubts he could maintain on his feet in any length of time. Besides, the guards filling the room most certainly wouldn't let him go. He was the prime suspect, and even the confessing prime suspect of a murder case. Happily, the jury didn't know his brother was dead. If they did, he wasn't too sure if he would ever be a free man again…

"The court rises!"

"The court sits down!"

Instead of paying any attention to the orders, Frank just stared out in the air, an endless emptiness filling his brown eyes. He felt so alone. So awfully, heartwrenching alone. His parents were gone. His brother was really gone. All he got was icy glances of hate thrown at him form the spectators. They didn't know him. They didn't know what he was going through. In fact, they had no clue.

As in a blur, Frank heard the judge say something. Then, they were several voices repeating the same word over and over again: "Guilty." A long silence. The glances increased in intensity, before the judge's voice again filled the room.

Frank knew he was talking about him. He also knew the man was soon to reveal what his judgment would be. Third thing he knew, was his future depended on it. Still, he didn't listen, didn't care. He couldn't. Joe was dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead as in never to come back. Never, ever.

Through a fog, the judge's word hit him: "Therefor, I adjudge this man to ten years in prison, no probation allowed. The court is adjourned."

So, whaddya think? I wrote this chapter really fast, but due to all your wonderful reviews, I felt you deserved an update :-D And if someone of you is about to die of boredom in this social-distancing-time, check out my newest story "The Unknown Date" or simply just leave a review! (Eventually, both ;-))