Note: Just after Closing In…
WILL TOMORROW NEVER COME
Bosco: I need your help.
Bosco: Faith, you know that I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important.
Faith: Important? I have my own problems to deal with. I don't have time for yours. I have to take care of my own family.
Faith closed the door; she's never felt as bad as she does now. She had seen Bosco's face when she told him his problems were insignificant. God, what was she thinking? They argued with each other; it had been a long time since their first argument, but he came, tonight, to apologize and tell her that he needed her; and all she could do was slam the door in his face. She opened the door, hoping that he would still be behind it, but he wasn't. She let him leave, she rejected him. She would talk with him tomorrow.
Bosco ran down the stairs, running until he got to his car. He couldn't see anything, his eyes were misty and there were tears falling down his cheeks. Faith was right, his problems were not important. After all, she had been right, she'd warned him about Cruz, telling him that he would always have problems with her, that she was trouble. He didn't listen to her, and now, he can only blame himself. This morning he had found a notebook under her mattress, with a lot of information on junkies, on Noble, even on himself, Maurice Boscorelli. He knew that she had something planned, but he didn't know how to react. He realized that everything that Faith had told him was right. He missed her, more then anything. He felt lost without her, and that's why he came to her; to beg her for forgiveness, to ask her for help. But he had seen her expression, the one of a woman hurting, tired of all the hostility between them. She forgave him every time before, but not this time. Hate and distress, that's all he'd seen in her eyes. She hated him, he was sure about that.
Bosco jumped into his car and took off. His tears continued to fall, he was confused. Throughout his whole life, he had never felt this lost. Faith was always there for him, since he met her; she was his savoir, his breath, the one part of his life that he knew he couldn't live without. He'd messed up, and now he had no one to watch his back. He would try to talk to her tomorrow.
Tomorrow…an uncertain notion.
Bosco drove, he accelerated when he saw the light turn green; he wanted just one thing, to get home as soon as possible; he needed to talk to her. It couldn't end like this, no, not like this, nine years of friendship, ruined by a Mexican-bitch; no, nine years gone, and it was
his own fault.
Bosco roared through the intersection, music blaring in an effort to lighten his mood. 12:10, he was tired. All this shit started with a single lie, a lie to protect her, but she didn't understand! Partners never lie to each other.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the two cars rushing towards him. Two cars which kept coming. Two groups of teenagers, completely drunk, running the red light. He saw the headlights and turned his head, they were no less then 20 meters from him. The cars didn't slow down. The collision was violent. One of two cars crushed into in passenger-side, while the other hit the back of Bosco's car before it started rolling, over and over again, gas leaking out onto the street. The world lurched into slow motion.
When the first car hit, he felt the impact, the passenger door exploding, a piece of metal sinking into his right thigh, cutting through his pants. When the second car hit, he felt himself being thrown forward. His seatbelt locked so violently that he felt his neck snap and his chest crush. His breathing became irregular, and his head fell forward. He saw the other car overturn onto its hood, before his own car started rolling.
Bosco felt the shock when his car landed on its hood for the first time; even though he was still strapped to his seat. His head hit the side of car, causing him to scream. His vision blurred, and he saw the landscape turn endlessly. Nothing could stop it. He thought of Faith, all their happy memories. He wanted to tell her, but the opportunity would never come now. He wanted to apologize; his throat constricted, and his tears continued to fall.
He didn't want to die, not now, not so foolishly. He felt a violent pain in his stomach. He couldn't see her now, his angel… He couldn't see them, his friends. He was alone, he hurt, and he was terrified. Death was so painful, physically, and mentally. He saw his friends faces, parading by, one by one; he wanted to apologize to them all, and remain with them.
The tears that fell now were no longer tears of pain, but of horror, terror. Why him? He never had the chance to ask anyone.
His car stopped rolling and landed on its hood. Bosco saw Faith, she was there. She told him to go away, that his problems were bullshit…
Bosco: Sorry… Faith… Forgive me…
He raised his hand towards his friend's image as she became increasingly blurred.
Bosco: Don't leave… Don't go…
She left him alone. Why fight? Why live? He fought for several seconds to stay awake but there was no reason to stay and fight when the only person that he's ever loved, the only person who matters has rejected him.
Bosco dropped his arm and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow will never come.
TBC….