Pitter Patter Goes my Heart

If I could control tomorrow's haze
The darkened shore wouldn't bother me
If I can't control
the web we weave
My life will be lost in the fallen leaves
No Control – David Bowie

Justin

I don't want to move here.

Pittsburgh is the last place on my list that I would want to move too. For god's sakes - what the hell was wrong with where we've lived for our entire lives? There was, and there still isn't, anything wrong with New York. New York is...the best place ever. To me anyway. My parents, I suppose, think differently. ("Honey, Pittsburgh is nice. Plus, your father has to move there for work." "Justin - Don't argue. Pittsburgh is just as good as New York.") Yeah fucking right. There's nothing for me in Pittsburgh. New York on the other hand - everything is there for me. How else am I suppose to be a success in art if I'm in the Pitts? New York is the place to be as far as I'm concerned.

But my father doesn't care a rat's ass about my interest in art.

He'd rather me forget all about art and do something...manly like...baseball or something.

You'd think that, after seventeen years of failing to get me interested in any type of sport, that he'd just give up and become familiar with the fact that I'm not going to give up my art. That I'm not going to play some stupid lame sport that I have no interest in whatsoever. Art is the one thing that I'm one-hundred-percent sure of in my life. That and the fact that I'm one-hundred-percent fag too. Something else that my father definitely won't agree with, which would be the reason I haven't yet told him about...me, yet. There's only one single person who knows about me and that's the one thing I'm looking forward to in the Pitts.

Daphne Chanders.

She's been my best friend since forever. She used to live in New York too up until a year ago when her parents decided to pack and leave. Daphne said it was because of her mother's tendency to get bored of a single place after a while. Though I don't see why it even matters. Her parents are hardly home since they travel on business most of the time, which leaves Daphne, pretty much, alone all the time, which is why I would go to her house daily and nightly since I was old enough to be able to go to friends houses. We're, pretty much up until she moved, inseparable. Even now we still write letters to each other frequently. More than frequently - - more like everyday.

So, at least I'll have her.

I guess that's the silver lining 'cause there sure as hell isn't anything else here for me.

"Justin, you haven't talked the entire ride."

I don't answer my mother. She and I both know that I'm not in any mood to talk right now. I haven't been in the mood to talk for the entire four and a half hours that we have been driving. And I still won't be in the mood to talk when, in thirty minutes, we arrive in Pittsburgh. Jennifer Taylor sighs in the passenger seat and doesn't even try to get me to talk again. Craig Taylor, on the other hand, shakes his head angrily. "Justin – you have no respect. You know, we're moving for you. If we hadn't moved I wouldn't have a job right now. I wouldn't be making us any money. Think about how that would be."

I still don't say anything.

Fuck him.

"God, Justin! Can't you act your fucking age? You're going to be eighteen in a few weeks – not fucking five."

"Craig, stop, please. You're not helping anything."

"He needs to learn some fucking manners."

"Craig."

Then they're silent. Maybe I do need to be grateful but that thought still doesn't make me feel any happier about any of this. No one speaks until we're in Pittsburgh.

"We're here."

I'm glad my mother sounds so fucking cheerful.

It all happens in a split second.

Craig looks down for the directions to our new home.

Jennifer suddenly yells at him to look at the road.

Then there's the screeching of metal against metal, crushing of glass, and then all there is…is black.

Two Weeks Later

What the hell is that noise?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

God, can someone shut it off.

Wait – it's my alarm clock.

What the hell? I can't move my arm. I can't open my eyes. My mouth is so fucking dry. What the hell is going on? Why the fuck is my throat so sore? I need water. God, I really want some water. I try to open my eyes but I can't. They feel like something is holding them down, bricks or something. I still can't move. My body won't move. What the fuck is going on? I start to panic, I try to cry out but I can't. My throat, it won't work. I suddenly can't breathe, I can't even hear the breathing anymore. My panic's the only thing I know.

"He's awake!"

Who the hell is that? I hear a waterfall of voices next. I don't understand anything that any of them are saying. God, where the fuck am I?

Then it's black again and the voices fade away.

There's no beeping anymore.

There are no voices anymore.

But, oh shit, there's a lot of pain. My side hurts, my head is fucking pounding. What the hell is wrong with my arm? I swallow and my throat is still slightly sore but it doesn't feel so constricted. I can actually breathe now. I moan, glad that I can now. I try to open my eyes but when I do all I see are extremely bright lights. Where the hell am I? I try to remember what happened to me. I know who I am so at least I know that. I remember riding in the car – feeling extremely shitty 'cause I didn't want to move to Pittsburgh.

My parents talking.

Trying to make me get over moving.

Everything after that is a blur.

I try opening my eyes again and this time I'm able to let them adjust. When I am able to see I see where, exactly, I'm at. The hospital. My panic starts to rise and I want to speak but I can't. All I can do is groan. Suddenly, there's a nurse and I sigh with relief. She has a nice, warm smile but too bad I'm not feeling too nice and warm right now.

"Good morning, Justin. How do you feel?"

I try to ask for some water but, I don't even need to because she's handing me a cup of water as if she can read my mind. Well, she doesn't actually hand it to me, she holds over my mouth and pours it slowly into my mouth, helping me sit up a little bit. It hurts to swallow but the water taste so fucking good and relieving. I pull my head away when I've had enough, she puts it down and helps me into a sitting position. I get slightly dizzy and I'm hurling everywhere.

Brian

Not only did my jeep get trashed – Two people died.

I had tried to swerve out of the way but it hadn't been enough. The idiot driving hadn't been watching the road. He had been bending over looking for something. So, at least it wasn't my fault that he was dead. That's the only thing really keeping me from feeling like complete shit. I look over at my teen stalker, Daphne, and she smiles over at me. I've known her for about a year.

I met her when she moved down here a year ago. She had been sixteen at the time and she had been trying to get a job in my office, lying about her age thinking she could pull it off. I hadn't hired her but she was there every day, "stalking" me but, honestly, she was fun for a seventeen year old. So, I had let her stick around. She had been the first one at the hospital, probably because she had been the first one I called when I got to the hospital. I only had a few scratches.

I was lucky.

She hadn't cried until a nurse came and told us who had been in the vehicle and what had happened to the people inside. Craig and Jennifer Taylor had died on impact. Justin Taylor, their son, was in a fucking coma. Daphne happened to know them, which did kind of make me feel like shit. "It's not your fault," she had said and I had believed her. But she asked me to come here with her everyday and…how could I say no to a girl who might lose her best friend forever?

We're now practically friends with the doctor and nurse.

Every day is the same, though.

"Nope, sorry, he's still asleep."

And we'll leave, Daphne depressed.

I have a feeling today will be the same. Except the nurse is smiling and she rushes towards us as soon as she sees us.

"He's awake."

Justin

When I wake up again I'm able to sit up without hurling.

"W-what happened to me?"

When the doctor tells me what happened I can't believe it. They can't be dead. I don't cry 'cause it's not true. That's not possible. Then he tells me I have two visitors and he leaves. A moment later, oh god, there's Daphne. I don't care that it hurts a lot when she hugs me. I'm just glad that she's here. When she pulls back I notice the man with her. She introduces him as Brian Kinney and that's who the doctor said was in the other car. I wish I could be angry at him, although, from what I have heard, it wasn't Brian Kinney's fault. It was my dads.

I swallow and look up at my best friend.

"Please…tell me it's not true."

She doesn't say a word. Maybe it's because she's crying.

"Please…"

Then I start to cry. Oh, god, this can't be happening.

Author's note: This, I've decided, is going to be a lot like my fic 'Changes' except better, more angsty, and…just…the same but a lot different at the same time, therefore I'm probably not going to be adding anymore chapters to Changes, though if I do...it won't be for a while.