Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with "So Weird" or any of the legal mumbo
jumbo that comes along with it.
Author's Note: This is a revised version of this chapter. I felt like the other version was sloppy and too lacking in details, so I therefore took it off and replaced it with this.
"Carey, Clu, could you guys come here for a second?" Irene Bell called out later that night, when she saw her towheaded sons head out the door, on their way to grab a bite to eat.
"What's up, mum? Clu asked, dusting his hands on his faded blue jeans. "Need us to get ya something? Got some typical mum craving?"
Irene hid a smile. Her younger son never ceased to amuse her with all his humorous sayings. "As a matter of fact, yes. I need you to run an errand for me."
"What is it?" the oldest Bell offspring asked as he joined his mother and brother.
"Just some last-minute stuff," Irene told Carey, then turned to Clu. "I need the both of you to drop off the guitars at Pete's in Denver."
"Denver!" Clu sputtered, shocked, eyes widening. "But that's, like, two hours away!"
Irene raised an eyebrow. "I am aware of that Clu. I wouldn't be imposing on you if it wasn't important. But we need to drop it off tonight for re- stringing and tuning, so we can pick it up tomorrow at noon."
Clu gestured around him wildly. "Mum, look around! We're a travelling blue bus full of musicians! Stringing and tuning guitars should be a snap!"
"Cluett Geeza Bell," Irene shook her head, blond mane whipping slightly. "This busload of musicians still have to practice, and there is no time to restring and tune twelve guitars in twelve hours or so."
"Quit whining and let's get a move on," Carey said in annoyance to his brother. "Let's just get a move on." He grabbed the keys from his mother's outstretched hand and gruffly shoved them down Clu's jacket pocket. "Just shut up, and I'll let you drive."
"But Bleu's expecting me to call her at ten!" Clu whined as his Carey grabbed him by the shirttail and led him to the car.
"Shut up and let's get a move on."
"Hi, is Clu Bell around?"
"No, he's not here at the moment. May I take a message?"
"Oh, he's not? I thought he was going to call me," the girl on the line said in a confused tone of voice. "Oh, well. Can you please tell Clu that Bleu called?"
"Okay, dear, goodbye," Irene said, then hung up.
She glanced at her watch. Her boys have been gone for over almost five hours, and should have been home by now. Or called, at the very least.
Irene walked over to the window, then pulled back the curtain. It was raining heavily outside, and mother's instincts steered her to the land of worry.
"Where are they?"
It was raining heavily outside, the sheets of rain assaulting the ground so aggressively that not even the windshield wiper could keep up. Further making the somewhat empty, winding highway more treacherous was the darkness that shrouded the cold Colorado night.
And it didn't help that Clu was driving like a maniac, either.
"Clu, can you slow down?" Carey yelled for what seemed like the millionth time. "We are not at a marathon in here, you know."
Carey glared his brother, hoping he would take the hint. He was not familiar with the route Clu had taken, and in all honesty he wasn't sure if Clu did, either.
"And what possessed you to take this damn highway?" Carey asked, incensed.
"It's a short cut," Clu said tersely. Carey had been getting on his nerves for hours now, alternating between criticising his haphazard driving or calling out every saint in an act of exaggeration to the less-than-pleasant weather. "It's fastest this way."
Clu glanced at his watch. He was already a good half hour late in calling Bleu, and from the looks of it, there was a good half hour left of driving left---and that was if he drove well above the speed limit. At this rate, he and Carey would be stuck on the highway until well past midnight, and he sure as heck would do anything to avoid that.
"Eyes on the road!" Carey screeched as Clu just barely missed an oncoming truck. "Just keep your damn eyes on the road!"
"Dude, you are seriously getting on my nerves!" Clu yelled at his brother. "Just chill!"
"Well, I'm not risking my life just so you could make kissy face noises on the phone with your flavour of the week," Carey said disgustedly, leaning back into his seat and crossing his arms on his chest. "You're driving like some maniac, it's raining like heck and the road is so frickin' dark it could double as the set for Blair Witch 3 or something!"
Clu glanced at his brother and raised an eyebrow. "What is your problem? You're acting as antsy as Richard Simmons' butt on an ant fire or something!"
Carey unbuckled his seat belt roughly. "That's it! I've had enough of this BS! You are pulling over so I can drive. NOW, Clu!"
Clu turned angrily to his brother. It took every ounce of his self-control to resist the urge to either smack him silly or cuss him out. "Just chill, man! We'll get in one piece of you just quit yakking! Put that seat belt on! Stop distracting me!"
"Clu, watch out!"
Clu looked up a second too late and saw a bright flash of light heading towards them, getting larger and larger, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of screeching tires and Carey's panicked screams.
Then everything happened I slow motion. It was like an out-of-body experience as Clu felt the car flip over once, twice and then crashed. There was another flash of bright, blinding white---and then, there was darkness.
Clu awoke in a daze, feeling a sharp, quick pain in his back.
'Huh?'
Slowly the events of that night replayed in his mind. The guitars, Bleu's phone call, the rain, the short cut, the argument with---
"Oh, God! Carey!" He quickly stood up, then groaned as a silver of agonising pain stabbed his side. "Carey!"
About ten feet away, a motionless body lay awkwardly in a heap on the slick, rain-covered gravel, joints oddly positioned. The man's once-honeyed hair was now matted with crimson blood, his beautiful face now barely recognisable under angry gashes and multi-hued bruises.
"Carey!" Clu yelled, running to his brother. He gently touched Carey's shoulder, knowing that if he was any harsher, he could injure him severely. "Bro, wake up! Can you hear me? Carey? Yo, wake up!"
But there was no response. Carey just lay there, still and silent as the dark night. Clu leaned down and tried to listen for a heartbeat, but he heard none. Panicked, he grasped his brother'' limp wrist and tried to find a pulse.
"Damn in! I should've been paying attention in CPR class instead of dozing off!" Frustrated, Clu wrung his hands. "Carey, please, bro, wake up!"
Moments later the welcoming sound of sirens resonated across the otherwise empty highway.
"In here, in here!" Clu yelled, waving his hands frantically, ignoring the pain he felt. "In here, in here!"
Within seconds the paramedics arrived, rushing to him. "Are you okay?"
Clu nodded numbly. "My brother-Please-He's---He's not answering me and---"
"Don't worry, we'll take care of it," one of the paramedics assured him, then nodded to his other partners to where Carey still lay. "But right now, I want you to come with me to the ambulance so you can tell you what happened."
He gently led a shaking Clu away from Carey and into the ambulance.
There, inside the comfort of the steel van, having his vitals checked, Clu glanced back at his brother's still form.
"Oh, God, what have I done?"
And with that, he buried his face in his arms and wept.
*Carey's POV *
I am surrounded by darkness. It is as thought the world was suddenly painted a mighnight black, with nary a star in sight.
It's not the darkness that unnerves me, though. It is the silence.
The silence is deafening, almost too loud.
Why am I alone? Where's Clu? Where's everybody?
*Fi's POV *
My mum wrote this song right before my dad died. It's called "Love is Broken," and some people, including myself, think it's a premonition of sorts. I asked my mum about it, and for the longest time she refused to talk about it.
Eventually she did, though. She told me that one night, she had this really vivid dream that my dad slowly slipped from her grasp. She tried to hold on to him, but he just kept on slipping and slipping, like there were some unknown forces in the darkness that was claiming him as their own.
Images from their life together flashed across her mind in warped speed, kind of like a movie, and when she woke up, she just had this sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach.
She couldn't explain it, but she just knew.
She knew she was going to lose my dad. She didn't want him to go out for a ride that night.
Maybe I am more of my mother's daughter than I initially thought.
Because right now, I am having that same haunting feeling.
And I would give anything just to prove it wrong.
In a sterilised white room filled with people running about, a large bearded man strode purposefully to a lone figure seated near the nurses' station. The bearded man was a tough man, having gone through bar fights in the seediest towns, and then emerging a victor. He scarcely cried, if at all. But right now his heart was filled with trepidation and he felt a pang of fear that brought an icy cold numbness to his entire being.
The fear of the unknown was overwhelming, and threatened to catapult him into a tunnel of despair.
But he had to pull himself together. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he approached the young man and tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"What happened, son?" Ned's gruff, gravelly voice broke through the self- induced trance Clu had been in ever since the paramedics arrived and whisked him to the hospital.
"I'm sorry, dad, I'm sorry!" Clu cried, rushing to his father's side and falling on his knees, wrapping his trembling arms around his father's legs. "God, I am so sorry! So sorry! I am so sorry!"
Ned's bearded face crumpled up as he watched his son sob like a baby, repeating the same words over and over again. Clu's blood-soaked clothes were a sharp, dramatic contrast to the pristine, crisp whiteness of the hospital room. Oddly, he looked out of place, while at the same time, stood as a grim reminder of the facility's purpose.
"What happened, son?" Ned asked again as he looked into his son's stormy, cloudy blue orbs, helping him stand up to a more dignified position.
Clu refused to hold his father's gaze, afraid of the shame showing through. "I was driving and it was raining so hard and I took the short route and it was raining---and I---we were arguing---and it was raining---Oh, God! I am so sorry! So sorry! I am so sorry!" A violent current of tears seized through Clu's body, taking him whole, and Ned's heart constricted painfully. "Where's Carey now?"
"He-he," Clu sobbed harder. "Operating room. I'm so sorry!"
And with that, he fell on his knees again, racked with overwhelming grief and unbridled self-hatred.
*Carey's POV *
There was darkness, but all of a sudden, I see this blinding white. Is this Heaven? All that's around me is a paler shade of white. I hear voices, but they seem so far away. Are they angels? Am I dead?
"Carey? Carey Thomas Bell?"
Oh, my God! Was that---no---couldn't be---but---Was that God? He knows my name?
"Carey?"
Slowly the fog lifted, and I realise I am not in Heaven after all. Unless of course God had a salt-and-pepper ponytail and the strongest Boston accent.
I don't know how I got here, but I am in some kind of a room. Not my room, that's for sure. My room had more colour and didn't look quite so--- impersonal, lifeless.
"I can't tell you how relieved I am," Boston accent said. "You've been unconscious for over twenty four hours."
"What---who---whe---Who are you?" I stammered, my voice hoarse and scratchy. "Where am I?" I tried to sit up, but my body hurt all over. It felt fiery and sharp, like thousands of burning hot pokers pierced into my skin and straight into my being.
But that is not what worries me
With a sinking feeling I realise something much, much worse has occurred.
I could not move my legs.
Or my arms.
"Fiona, phone for you!" Lucy handed the phone to her flat mate, who was busily munching on potato chips and watching a soap opera on the telly with her.
"Hiya, Fi here, " Fiona said cheerfully.
"Fi, it's me," was the soft answer on the other line.
Fi sat up quickly, that haunting feeling she felt earlier creeping back into the pit of her stomach. "Jack, is that you? What's wrong? Is it you? Is it Gaby? Is mum okay?"
Blind panic set in as worst-case scenarios danced around in Fi's mind, taunting her mercilessly. "What's wrong, Jack, please tell me!"
There was silence on the line as Jack tried to gain control of his surging emotions. He knew that what he was about to say would break his sister's heart---in more ways than one.
"It's Carey, Fi. He-he might not make it,"
Author's Note: This is a revised version of this chapter. I felt like the other version was sloppy and too lacking in details, so I therefore took it off and replaced it with this.
"Carey, Clu, could you guys come here for a second?" Irene Bell called out later that night, when she saw her towheaded sons head out the door, on their way to grab a bite to eat.
"What's up, mum? Clu asked, dusting his hands on his faded blue jeans. "Need us to get ya something? Got some typical mum craving?"
Irene hid a smile. Her younger son never ceased to amuse her with all his humorous sayings. "As a matter of fact, yes. I need you to run an errand for me."
"What is it?" the oldest Bell offspring asked as he joined his mother and brother.
"Just some last-minute stuff," Irene told Carey, then turned to Clu. "I need the both of you to drop off the guitars at Pete's in Denver."
"Denver!" Clu sputtered, shocked, eyes widening. "But that's, like, two hours away!"
Irene raised an eyebrow. "I am aware of that Clu. I wouldn't be imposing on you if it wasn't important. But we need to drop it off tonight for re- stringing and tuning, so we can pick it up tomorrow at noon."
Clu gestured around him wildly. "Mum, look around! We're a travelling blue bus full of musicians! Stringing and tuning guitars should be a snap!"
"Cluett Geeza Bell," Irene shook her head, blond mane whipping slightly. "This busload of musicians still have to practice, and there is no time to restring and tune twelve guitars in twelve hours or so."
"Quit whining and let's get a move on," Carey said in annoyance to his brother. "Let's just get a move on." He grabbed the keys from his mother's outstretched hand and gruffly shoved them down Clu's jacket pocket. "Just shut up, and I'll let you drive."
"But Bleu's expecting me to call her at ten!" Clu whined as his Carey grabbed him by the shirttail and led him to the car.
"Shut up and let's get a move on."
"Hi, is Clu Bell around?"
"No, he's not here at the moment. May I take a message?"
"Oh, he's not? I thought he was going to call me," the girl on the line said in a confused tone of voice. "Oh, well. Can you please tell Clu that Bleu called?"
"Okay, dear, goodbye," Irene said, then hung up.
She glanced at her watch. Her boys have been gone for over almost five hours, and should have been home by now. Or called, at the very least.
Irene walked over to the window, then pulled back the curtain. It was raining heavily outside, and mother's instincts steered her to the land of worry.
"Where are they?"
It was raining heavily outside, the sheets of rain assaulting the ground so aggressively that not even the windshield wiper could keep up. Further making the somewhat empty, winding highway more treacherous was the darkness that shrouded the cold Colorado night.
And it didn't help that Clu was driving like a maniac, either.
"Clu, can you slow down?" Carey yelled for what seemed like the millionth time. "We are not at a marathon in here, you know."
Carey glared his brother, hoping he would take the hint. He was not familiar with the route Clu had taken, and in all honesty he wasn't sure if Clu did, either.
"And what possessed you to take this damn highway?" Carey asked, incensed.
"It's a short cut," Clu said tersely. Carey had been getting on his nerves for hours now, alternating between criticising his haphazard driving or calling out every saint in an act of exaggeration to the less-than-pleasant weather. "It's fastest this way."
Clu glanced at his watch. He was already a good half hour late in calling Bleu, and from the looks of it, there was a good half hour left of driving left---and that was if he drove well above the speed limit. At this rate, he and Carey would be stuck on the highway until well past midnight, and he sure as heck would do anything to avoid that.
"Eyes on the road!" Carey screeched as Clu just barely missed an oncoming truck. "Just keep your damn eyes on the road!"
"Dude, you are seriously getting on my nerves!" Clu yelled at his brother. "Just chill!"
"Well, I'm not risking my life just so you could make kissy face noises on the phone with your flavour of the week," Carey said disgustedly, leaning back into his seat and crossing his arms on his chest. "You're driving like some maniac, it's raining like heck and the road is so frickin' dark it could double as the set for Blair Witch 3 or something!"
Clu glanced at his brother and raised an eyebrow. "What is your problem? You're acting as antsy as Richard Simmons' butt on an ant fire or something!"
Carey unbuckled his seat belt roughly. "That's it! I've had enough of this BS! You are pulling over so I can drive. NOW, Clu!"
Clu turned angrily to his brother. It took every ounce of his self-control to resist the urge to either smack him silly or cuss him out. "Just chill, man! We'll get in one piece of you just quit yakking! Put that seat belt on! Stop distracting me!"
"Clu, watch out!"
Clu looked up a second too late and saw a bright flash of light heading towards them, getting larger and larger, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of screeching tires and Carey's panicked screams.
Then everything happened I slow motion. It was like an out-of-body experience as Clu felt the car flip over once, twice and then crashed. There was another flash of bright, blinding white---and then, there was darkness.
Clu awoke in a daze, feeling a sharp, quick pain in his back.
'Huh?'
Slowly the events of that night replayed in his mind. The guitars, Bleu's phone call, the rain, the short cut, the argument with---
"Oh, God! Carey!" He quickly stood up, then groaned as a silver of agonising pain stabbed his side. "Carey!"
About ten feet away, a motionless body lay awkwardly in a heap on the slick, rain-covered gravel, joints oddly positioned. The man's once-honeyed hair was now matted with crimson blood, his beautiful face now barely recognisable under angry gashes and multi-hued bruises.
"Carey!" Clu yelled, running to his brother. He gently touched Carey's shoulder, knowing that if he was any harsher, he could injure him severely. "Bro, wake up! Can you hear me? Carey? Yo, wake up!"
But there was no response. Carey just lay there, still and silent as the dark night. Clu leaned down and tried to listen for a heartbeat, but he heard none. Panicked, he grasped his brother'' limp wrist and tried to find a pulse.
"Damn in! I should've been paying attention in CPR class instead of dozing off!" Frustrated, Clu wrung his hands. "Carey, please, bro, wake up!"
Moments later the welcoming sound of sirens resonated across the otherwise empty highway.
"In here, in here!" Clu yelled, waving his hands frantically, ignoring the pain he felt. "In here, in here!"
Within seconds the paramedics arrived, rushing to him. "Are you okay?"
Clu nodded numbly. "My brother-Please-He's---He's not answering me and---"
"Don't worry, we'll take care of it," one of the paramedics assured him, then nodded to his other partners to where Carey still lay. "But right now, I want you to come with me to the ambulance so you can tell you what happened."
He gently led a shaking Clu away from Carey and into the ambulance.
There, inside the comfort of the steel van, having his vitals checked, Clu glanced back at his brother's still form.
"Oh, God, what have I done?"
And with that, he buried his face in his arms and wept.
*Carey's POV *
I am surrounded by darkness. It is as thought the world was suddenly painted a mighnight black, with nary a star in sight.
It's not the darkness that unnerves me, though. It is the silence.
The silence is deafening, almost too loud.
Why am I alone? Where's Clu? Where's everybody?
*Fi's POV *
My mum wrote this song right before my dad died. It's called "Love is Broken," and some people, including myself, think it's a premonition of sorts. I asked my mum about it, and for the longest time she refused to talk about it.
Eventually she did, though. She told me that one night, she had this really vivid dream that my dad slowly slipped from her grasp. She tried to hold on to him, but he just kept on slipping and slipping, like there were some unknown forces in the darkness that was claiming him as their own.
Images from their life together flashed across her mind in warped speed, kind of like a movie, and when she woke up, she just had this sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach.
She couldn't explain it, but she just knew.
She knew she was going to lose my dad. She didn't want him to go out for a ride that night.
Maybe I am more of my mother's daughter than I initially thought.
Because right now, I am having that same haunting feeling.
And I would give anything just to prove it wrong.
In a sterilised white room filled with people running about, a large bearded man strode purposefully to a lone figure seated near the nurses' station. The bearded man was a tough man, having gone through bar fights in the seediest towns, and then emerging a victor. He scarcely cried, if at all. But right now his heart was filled with trepidation and he felt a pang of fear that brought an icy cold numbness to his entire being.
The fear of the unknown was overwhelming, and threatened to catapult him into a tunnel of despair.
But he had to pull himself together. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he approached the young man and tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"What happened, son?" Ned's gruff, gravelly voice broke through the self- induced trance Clu had been in ever since the paramedics arrived and whisked him to the hospital.
"I'm sorry, dad, I'm sorry!" Clu cried, rushing to his father's side and falling on his knees, wrapping his trembling arms around his father's legs. "God, I am so sorry! So sorry! I am so sorry!"
Ned's bearded face crumpled up as he watched his son sob like a baby, repeating the same words over and over again. Clu's blood-soaked clothes were a sharp, dramatic contrast to the pristine, crisp whiteness of the hospital room. Oddly, he looked out of place, while at the same time, stood as a grim reminder of the facility's purpose.
"What happened, son?" Ned asked again as he looked into his son's stormy, cloudy blue orbs, helping him stand up to a more dignified position.
Clu refused to hold his father's gaze, afraid of the shame showing through. "I was driving and it was raining so hard and I took the short route and it was raining---and I---we were arguing---and it was raining---Oh, God! I am so sorry! So sorry! I am so sorry!" A violent current of tears seized through Clu's body, taking him whole, and Ned's heart constricted painfully. "Where's Carey now?"
"He-he," Clu sobbed harder. "Operating room. I'm so sorry!"
And with that, he fell on his knees again, racked with overwhelming grief and unbridled self-hatred.
*Carey's POV *
There was darkness, but all of a sudden, I see this blinding white. Is this Heaven? All that's around me is a paler shade of white. I hear voices, but they seem so far away. Are they angels? Am I dead?
"Carey? Carey Thomas Bell?"
Oh, my God! Was that---no---couldn't be---but---Was that God? He knows my name?
"Carey?"
Slowly the fog lifted, and I realise I am not in Heaven after all. Unless of course God had a salt-and-pepper ponytail and the strongest Boston accent.
I don't know how I got here, but I am in some kind of a room. Not my room, that's for sure. My room had more colour and didn't look quite so--- impersonal, lifeless.
"I can't tell you how relieved I am," Boston accent said. "You've been unconscious for over twenty four hours."
"What---who---whe---Who are you?" I stammered, my voice hoarse and scratchy. "Where am I?" I tried to sit up, but my body hurt all over. It felt fiery and sharp, like thousands of burning hot pokers pierced into my skin and straight into my being.
But that is not what worries me
With a sinking feeling I realise something much, much worse has occurred.
I could not move my legs.
Or my arms.
"Fiona, phone for you!" Lucy handed the phone to her flat mate, who was busily munching on potato chips and watching a soap opera on the telly with her.
"Hiya, Fi here, " Fiona said cheerfully.
"Fi, it's me," was the soft answer on the other line.
Fi sat up quickly, that haunting feeling she felt earlier creeping back into the pit of her stomach. "Jack, is that you? What's wrong? Is it you? Is it Gaby? Is mum okay?"
Blind panic set in as worst-case scenarios danced around in Fi's mind, taunting her mercilessly. "What's wrong, Jack, please tell me!"
There was silence on the line as Jack tried to gain control of his surging emotions. He knew that what he was about to say would break his sister's heart---in more ways than one.
"It's Carey, Fi. He-he might not make it,"