Understanding in a Car Crash

Chapter One

Splintered piece of glass falls, in the seat, gets caught…

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I kept my mouth shut. Occasionally I wonder what would happen if we weren't on the highway. Every so often I wonder if any of this is real.

I don't want to feel this way forever…

Sometimes I wonder what the result would have been if I had listened to him. I guess its way too late for that.

The train stopped, cueing me to grab my shit and get off the fucking train. The saying 'boys don't cry', isn't true…I'm a guy, in fact, I'm almost an adult, and you better believe me, I cried my little ass off. I cried in the hospital, I cried at home, and I cried in front of strangers. I cried when I felt like it. I couldn't stop it.

I lugged off the train and scanned the platform for Tyson Granger. We used to be friends…but then my parentsgot separated, and I had to move to Vancouver with my dad when I was nine. It's been a little more than eight years since I've seen him, or talked to him, or whatever.

Right now, all I remember is his name. I sort of forgot how he looks, and how he was and all. We didn't phone each other, or write letters…we were only fucking nine years old. Besides, I was caught up in so much stuff; I didn't even care about him.

Hell, I even forgot about the sister I had. Megan Hiwatari; she got to live with my mom. I don't know what kind of a person she is…and I'm scared to meet her…she was eight when I left with dad. I don't even know if we'll get along anymore. I don't remember if we ever got along in the first place when we lived in the same house.

Did she cry when I was gone? I wonder if anyone would cry if I died. I wonder how it feels like to die. I guess I already know…

I finally spot some large letters on a white Bristol board with 'Kai Hiwatari' written on it. It must have been for me…I mean, who else could have the same first and last name as me? The chances were pretty slim.

I pushed through the crowded platform, and dragged my stuff behind me trying to get to where my name was, and it felt like time stopped for a minute…you know, those really emotional periods where you're like…whoa…

I didn't know how to react when I finally got there. I'm pretty sure the guy holding up the thing with my name on it was Tyson – besides, I was told that he was going to pick me up. For a minute, I couldn't believe I was seeing him again; it kind of seemed weird.

I watched him lower the sign. Did he recognize me or did I scare him into thinking I'm some gay guy checking him out? He finally stepped forward, "You're…Kai?" He asked.

Was I Kai? Am I Kai? It took some time for me to register his question. Yes, I was Kai. "Uh, yeah." I answered. Now what? Another awkward moment, I guess. I always had awkward moments with my ex, Leslie. Now that I think about it, I'm glad I moved here, far away from that biatch. We only dated for about three months before calling it off – we didn't even go too far with the relationship anyway. I'm happy we didn't – I'd regret it.

"Oh, um, okay…" He seemed unsure of what to say. "I'm – "

"Tyson, I know." I said. If we were both females, I'd expect a hug from him; or her in the female situation. But since we were guys, this is how it went:

"Hey, uh, let me get that for you." He says, offering to take my luggage. I pull them back.

"No thanks, I can manage." I know I can. If I can survive a car crash on the highway and end up being hospitalized for six and a half weeks, then I'm pretty sure I'm capable of doing just about anything.

"Uh, okay." He said. I knew how he felt: totally nervous and he didn't know how to act around me. I've been in his shoes many times before, and I know how hard it is. "Let's go then." He led me out of the platform, into the train station, out of the train station, and into a place filled with my worst fucking nightmare: vehicles. In the parking lot. There were thousands of them, and I was the victim.

I know I'm going to act like a mental fuck in 3, 2, 1…

"Hey, you okay Kai?" I heard Tyson, but I couldn't answer back because I think I was having a seizure or something. I was not going to ride in another fucking…vehicle…ever. "You alright, Kai? C'mon, my car's right there, we'll get you home." I felt his hand on my shoulder as a friendly gesture, but I moved back.

These broken windows, open locks, reminders of the youth we lost…

I suddenly heard the sirens of a police car, and then an ambulance. I also had disturbing flash backs I prayed I'd never remember.

"Get out of my head…" Did I say that out too loud? I don't care, because the only thing I'm concerned about right now…is another car crash.

"Kai?" I know by now Tyson thought I was some fucking retard with fucking issues, and this was the worst way to start any friendship – not to mention, the worst first impression. Suddenly, things started getting blurry, and I know it's not my eyes, because I have perfect vision, even the eye doctor said so. Then I started seeing doubles, triples…whatever. I heard my name being called out several times, and I think I was falling backwards because I felt like I was. I felt a pair of arms grab me as I completely drowned in darkness.

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I've been awake for the past three minutes or so – except, I haven't opened my eyes yet because I'm…scared. There's a hand moving around my head. For a second, I thought it was Leslie – even though I hated her, man, I really wished it was her. Then I thought it was dad, but…I won't count on it. Fine, let me kill my fucking curiosity. I open my eyes only to discover a woman – in her mid-forty's, I'm guessing – sitting on the edge of the bed, and looking at me. Was I really that fascinating? Probably…since I was her son and she was my mother I haven't seen in ages except in a few dreams.

I'd recognize her even if I had amnesia. She had the same straight, orangey-red hair, except now she even had a few white ones. Now I know where I got my weird, amber coloured eyes – she had the same ones except it didn't look weird on her.

I couldn't believe my own mother was in front of me – it felt unreal, and more like a dream. I felt like I had won the lottery or something. But what if none of this was real? What if this was a dream, and I'm really sleeping in my Vancouver home, with my dad sleeping in the other room. I finally sat up in bed.

"Mom?" I felt her hand on the side of my face. Did she think it was a dream too?

"How are you feeling now?" She asked me.

"Huh?" Was she talking about dad? Was she talking about me in the hospital?

"You fainted at the train station, when Tyson went to pick you up. I was very scared that I even cried for a little while." She paused as she held my hand. Her hands were very warm, unlike mine, which were always cold. Dad used to tell me it was because I don't drink enough water. I watched as a few tears started falling out of her eyes. "I thought maybe you were ill. But your friend got you home very quickly, and helped me get you up here, to your room."

I looked around the room. My new room couldn't even be compared with my old room. My old room was like my home. This was just a room, painted in blue, with a few Greenday posters, Blink 182 posters – which totally undefined my taste in music, because I was into AC/DC, Van Halen; you know, the old stuff, and definitely some No Doubt, and Beyonce, 'cause she's one yummy, ass hot spankable biatch, and I'd do her if I was famous too – but, that's not gonna happen. Fuck Jay-Z…lucky bastard. Oh, and I just need to add the fact that Blink 182 is the worst band on the face of the earth.

There were also many hockey posters, which outnumbered the music stuff. Again, hockey wasn't for me, it wasn't my thing. I'd be happy with basketball posters.

"You can change whatever you want, Kai. It's up to you." She said. Did I make it that obvious that I didn't like it? I mean, I didn't even make a face – I just looked around the room.

"Its fine, mom, I like it." I lied, I know, shame on me – but you don't expect me to tell her that I don't like the way she 'decorated' my room, that would break her heart, plus, I was like a total stranger to her. Or at least I felt that way – that she was a complete stranger to me. This was the first time I'd seen her and talked to her face-to-face in like a zillion years.

There was a brief pause before she grinned, ear-to-ear, "My, look at you, you've grown so much, dear." She was still smiling. "And into a very fine, young man."

Okay, I know I went redder than the darkest shade of red, because I wasn't used to these comments (unless they were written in the girls' bathroom of my old school…apparently there were things written about me in the girls' bathroom…).

"I've registered you into a school already, Kai – but I've told the principal about…the incident, and told him you'd stay home for a while, and then attend school for emotional reasons." She finally told me. I know I'm going to seem like a moron, but I am more than happy to go back to school.

"Can I go starting tomorrow? Please?" I asked. I didn't want to stay home and think about dad, or Leslie, or whatever shit I tend to think about when I'm at home. School will keep me busy, and I won't have time to think about things.

"Are you sure? I think if you – "

"I'm sure." I told her. "Um, this is going to sound stupid, but – don't I have a sister?" I completely forgot about Megan. I started to imagine what she could've looked like right now. Was she still the type of girl who had messy, tangled up red hair all the time and liked to dig dirt in our backyard for 'treasures'? She even collected bugs in jars. Once, when she wanted to play soccer with me and Tyson, I told her to eat a worm if she wanted to play with us, and she did, of course, I ended up getting grounded for that. "Where's Megan?" I asked.

Before answering the very straight forward question I had asked, she looked at me and started nodding, "She's here."

"Can I see her? I want to see her. Where is she?"

"She isn't home right now." She told me. For some reason, I felt like that was a lie, but I didn't say anything.

"When will she be back?" I asked, instead. I really wanted to see her. She was probably the only person who would understand my situation because a) she's a girl; b) she's only a year younger than me, preventing the whole 'age-gap' thing; and c) she's my sister.

"She went to the mall, to get a dress for the semi-formal." She told me, but with little detail.

"Semi-formal?"

"It's like prom night, but it's not the actual prom." She explained. I understood. I had those at my old school. She smiled at me again. I liked the fact that she didn't mention dad at all. I didn't want to be reminded. "How about we grab some dinner now? You must be very hungry. That train ride was very long. And then you can go to bed."

"And go to school in the morning?" I know she wasn't too happy with my decision, but meh…I followed her downstairs, and into the kitchen. The house wasn't too small, or too big, but just right.

"Do you want beef steak I just made before you got up or the left over fried rive with chicken?" She asked as she put one hand on the counter for support. I was tall than her by a few inches. I wasn't surprised. For some reason, my growing hormone, or gene or whatever kicked in, in sixth grade, which landed me a spot in the seventh grade basketball team. In eighth grade, I was still on the team, but couldn't play after a while because of a stupid broken wrist.

Going into high school, I became the team captain of the basketball team for grade nine, ten, and eleven. Grade twelve was going okay, until what happened with me and dad. I feel bad, because in the end, the basketball team didn't even make it into the semi-finals without me – okay, they were pretty sucky players anyway. I think I'm like six foot, four inches, or maybe five. Oh well.

Snapping back to reality, I tried to remember what my mom had asked me – that's right, what I wanted for dinner. It was either beef or chicken – and I picked neither, because I was vegetarian. I wasn't always one. After visiting this farm once, and watching cows get killed, I've decided to stop eating any kind of meat. I'm not a vegan though. Anyways, I didn't know how to tell her – I couldn't be mean, and not eat anything…so I ended up forcing myself to eat the fried rice, picking out all the chicken pieces. I felt like I was committing some kind of sin, and I think I even choked a few times without realizing it.

Dinner was over (thank fucking god), and it was about 7 PM. I decided taking a shower was the best choice for now cine my t-shirt was literally stuck to me like it was having sex with me or something, from all that sweat, and my hair felt sticky. As I was coming out of the shower, I heard voices from downstairs: one belonged to my mother, and the other ones were from other people. I went downstairs quickly, and was greeted by Tyson's entire family! Well actually, it was only Tyson, Myles – his older brother, Dylan – his younger brother, and his mother, who looked extremely young. I was surprised I remembered them all.

Myles and Tyson looked pretty similar, except Myles was the nerdy version of Tyson. Okay, fine, the only thing that made Myles look nerdy was his neat and tidy hair and his completely polished shoes.

Tyson on the other hand, had the same navy hair as he did when he was eight, or nine – along with these black streaks here and there, and I couldn't tell if they were natural or not. He had a baseball cap with the wing flipped backwards. He had a black FCUK t-shirt on, along with a pair of khaki cargo shorts, and these black Vans skater shoes. It seemed like everywhere I went, everyone had skater shoes…it was funny, really, even I owned a DC pair.

Dylan, however, looked nothing like his two older brothers. He had dirty blonde hair, and chestnut brown eyes. I don't think he was into the rock scene at all, judging by his attire. He had a huge ass white t-shirt, with a pair of jeans that were nearly falling off, and these white Phat Farm shoes. Yeah…he was 'gangsta'…I hated that term.

My attention finally turned to my mom, when she started speaking.

"Kai, this is –"

"I know who they are, mom." I told her. Why did people always assume that when a person went away for a few years, and came back, that they'd forget everyone?

Everyone took a seat in the living room, and Ms. Granger started apologizing about the whole accident in her natural French accent. The Grangers' were originally from France, and moved to Quebec, Canada when Tyson was four, and then moved to Toronto, Ontario three years later for whatever reason. She asked me how I was a million times, and I gave her the same answer: I was fine. I also told her I had to stay in the hospital for six and a half weeks because from what the doctors told me, I was in a coma for two weeks, and had several broken bones and eighteen stitches on my head. The doctors said I was extremely lucky because out of the twenty-one people involved on the collision on the highway, I was the only survivor.

Lucky my ass. I'd be a lot happier dead, considering I was probably the one dick who caused the entire thing on the high way that day.

Before the Grangers' left, mom had asked Tyson to take me to school tomorrow. She also mentioned that I wasn't too comfortable to go to school by car. Tyson also left his number and cell number with me incase I needed it. I don't think I will though.

After they left, mom and I had a conversation. She acted like she knew me, and not once did she mention dad. It was fifteen past nine, and Megan wasn't home yet. Didn't she want to see me? Or was she just shy? But then again, she went shopping and it took women forever to look for 'perfect' clothes.

Mom suggested I go to bed when it was 10:30, as I wanted to go to school tomorrow. I did…and like any other night after the accident, I cried myself to sleep, because I really didn't feel lucky. Maybe all this was a punishment for 'murdering' twenty people on the highway. My penalty was to feel miserable for the rest of my life…

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A/N: Please R and R. I was inspired to write this after hearing 'Understanding in a Car Crash', by Thursday. I highly recommend readers to download that song or something, and listen to it. There are pairings…just to let you know.