Snow was lightly falling all around him and was starting to accumulate on the ground. It crunched softly beneath his boots as he made his way from the hospital entryway down toward the sidewalk. He'd been spending entirely too much time at this place lately and yet there was nowhere else he'd rather be. Out of obligation or guilt he wasn't sure. It was getting harder to distinguish between the two. A figure was situated in the near distance at the bus stop, leaning against a crosswalk sign. The person's head was cast downward as he approached. He saw a frigid trail of smoke mixed with cold breath swirling from a mouth cradling a cigarette. Eddy bumped his arm against the figure and gestured with his hand toward the lit cigarette.
Kevin's eyes met Eddy's and he arched an eyebrow. His face was swollen and his cheeks were red, from the cold mixed with crying, but Eddy was sure his own face resembled the same fate.
"Are you here to yell at me like Nazz does?" Kevin asked.
"Nah, as long as this stays between us. Gimme one." Eddy said.
Kevin's face was nothing short of bewilderment as he reached into his pocket and grabbed the beat up carton of cigarettes and pushed one out before extending it. Eddy grabbed it and nodded his thanks. He lit it with his own lighter and took a long drag. He sighed heavily as he stared up into the night sky as more snowflakes flurried around them.
"Didn't know you smoked," Kevin said as he tilted his head and leant back against the sign pole. "Unless, I'm just a bad influence."
Eddy gripped the cigarette tightly, as he perched it between his lips and inhaled. "Don't flatter yourself, Shovelchin. Everybody knows I'm the bad influence. Besides," he started as he gestured to the cigarette in his hand, "Only on special occasions." He answered with a side smirk trying to make light of their situation.
"Oh yeah, special occasions." Kevin reiterated as he stared up into the night sky, his smile barely reached his eyes.
It'd been a week; one long, gruesome and fearful week. A week of crying, pain, and heartache. Of tearful what ifs and what could have beens. There was so much pain and resentment, unfathomable hurt. They all felt it. It was hard not too, even when it wasn't something that happened to them. It directly affected all of them in the wake of destruction. The aftermath of what Eddward had done had resonated so deeply within the core of the cul-de-sac. It affected everyone in one way or another regardless of the closeness they shared; they each felt something akin to guilt for knowing or not knowing. For not doing something more to help or to stop it. There were signs; there were always signs.
Christmas had come and gone and there wasn't any merriment or happiness to be had. Eddward's parents had come shortly after Eddy saw Eddward in the ICU. His mom screamed and cursed and demanded answers. The doctor tried to calm her, but he didn't have the answers she wanted. Her glare had turned angrily toward Eddy. As if he was the one to do this to her son, his best friend. And maybe she was right. Afterall he'd known, but he'd be damned if he'd let her get away with her part in this.
"How did this happen Eddy?!" She had screamed at him.
She had practically spat in his face as she shoved a finger at him. "Did you know about this?! They said you found him. You were there. You knew! How did you let him do this?!"
Her words were harsh and detestful as she stared down at him as if she played no part in Eddward's downward spiral. Eddward's dad stood behind her. Stoic as always and barely a present parent as it was. If this had affected him at all, it didn't show.
The rage was boiling deep, down under his skin and marinating into his bones. Putrid anger and hate seethed from his pores.
"Say something!" She screamed. "Do you even care?"
His will at respecting his elders always walked a thin and fine line, but this was too far. How could she even insinuate that he didn't care. He was the one to find him. He'd known the second he dropped Eddward off that something was wrong and jumped into action the minute he suspected something was going to happen. He'd been the one to find him in that god forsaken tub bleeding, and broken, and barely a second away from pure death.
"Do you even care?" His words came out cold and harsh.
But he didn't care about how she felt. If he had to feel guilt then so did she because he was there when she wasn't. He was there watching the pieces fall apart while he tried to put them back. He watched his friend deteriorate in more ways than one. She didn't get to act like the concerned parent after the destruction had been done.
She was taken aback and seemed lost for words, but before she could say another Eddy continued as he took a step toward her. His words felt like venom as they concocted in his throat. His tongue felt like a loaded gun as the trigger was fired.
"He's your son. He was in your house. How do you not know about what goes on under your own roof?! You want to point the finger and blame me then, yeah, fine. I knew. I knew and I tried to help. I knew him enough to know he was going to do something stupid tonight and guess what. I was right. He'd be dead if it wasn't for me." Eddy said as his eyes glossed over in tears. "He's my best friend. I pulled him from that fucking tub while our friends were in shock. I stopped him from bleeding out on your goddamn bathroom floor. I kept it together long enough for the fucking professionals to arrive to make sure he lived. I did that. Not you." Those last words left him and something came alive inside him at the release.
He'd be dead. He would have been, but he wasn't. He'd saved him. He did. That was reason enough for him.
Images strewn in various shades of red plagued his memories. Cold, wet, thick blood that had seeped into his clothes as he worked tirelessly to save his best friend. The blood that had adorned the clothes he was still in while he waited for a change of clothes. He looked down at himself, at Eddward's blood. He sniffed back his tears as he tried to imagine the unbearable hurt and anguish Eddward must have been dealing with by himself. The cold and depressing nothingness of isolation from always being in that empty house. Not a home, a house.
"You're not there. You never are. He's always alone in that big, stupid house. All he's ever done is try to be the perfect son for you, and it's never good enough. He never feels good enough. And you're not even there to watch as he falls apart." Eddward looked down at himself and then back at her.
Her eyes broke as they met. She seemed to really look at him now and take in his appearance as if she hadn't noticed his attire before. Her eyes widened in realization that Eddy's pants up to his knees were saturated in blood that wasn't his own. From that moment they hadn't said a word since. Days had passed and they would shoot each other glances in the hallways. He would wait until she and her husband left Eddward's room before he went in. He would sit with his best friend in silence and wait until she came back. Then they'd do their silent exchange again as he left and they entered. No more words needed to be shared. Enough had been said. Marie was a well needed buffer between them at least and her presence seemed to ease the tension. She'd offer to get his parents coffee or sit with him when they wanted to go get something to eat. All they really needed now was for Eddward to wake up.
There was an incident one evening when Eddward seemed to be returning to consciousness. His monitor started blaring while Eddy was waiting in the hall for his and Eddward's parents to switch their visitation shifts. His eyes bulged as he looked on in fear and confusion. Eddward seemed to tense and thrash below the confines of his wrist braces. His face was tight and pained as sweat coated his forehead.
His body tensed as he started thrashing wildly trying to free himself, but his eyes never once opened. It was almost as if he was trapped in more ways than one. He was reliving a nightmare and his reality wasn't helping. Eddward's mother wailed as a nurse tried to remove her from the room. Two more rushed in to restrain him from doing any further damage to himself. A doctor stuck a needle in his arm and almost as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. His expression relaxed and it was like nothing had ever happened.
That had been a few days ago and there had been no change since. School had started back up and Eddy and Kevin still visited the hospital religiously, only Kevin had yet to enter Eddward's room. He was given permission now that Eddward's condition seemed to be improving and he was most likely being moved to a different room out of the ICU. Even though Eddy was sure that was a mistake. A psychologist had yet to evaluate Eddward since he was still sleeping, but his mother had insisted on a room change to try to make it seem as if everything was magically okay.
Eddy wasn't sure if their exchange in the hospital hallway had even registered in her brain. Did she even hear what he had to say? Hell, her own son had been telling her for years how he felt and she didn't listen then. So why would she ever listen to him.
A hand shook Eddy and he looked over to Kevin as he was rushed back to the present.
"You good?" Kevin asked as he dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his shoe.
"Yeah, just- Yeah." Eddy swallowed and looked over to Kevin, "you going to go into his room today instead of sitting in the waiting room?"
Kevin tensed and his lips formed a thin line before he spoke, "I don't- I mean I wouldn't know what to do."
Eddy let out a low laugh trying to lighten the situation. "You don't need to do anything. Just sit there. Talk to him. It helps."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Just talk to him while he's hooked up to all those machines." Kevin said as he shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the image he'd conjured.
"I don't know what machines you think he's on, but it's really not all that bad. He's got an IV drip, the heart monitor, a feeding tu-"
Kevin threw his arms up in exasperation. "Man enough!" Kevin yelled and Eddy's eyes bulged at his outburst. "Look, it's just. I can't." Kevin sighed. "I just can't. I know he'll look better than when we found him. I know, but I can't. Everytime I close my eyes. Every night when I'm trying to sleep."
Eddy felt those images resurface in his own memories. He reached his hand out and grabbed Kevin's shoulder. "I get it, okay."
"It's so much more than that though," Kevin started as he raked his hand back through his hair. His hat would have fallen off if the hood wasn't up on his hoodie. "You just jumped into action. Like the second the door was open you were gone and I thought you were crazy. Or I wanted you to be. He just. He was so lifeless and you just knew what to do. You didn't even flinch. I fell apart. If it was just me to find him…" Kevin paused and looked toward Eddy with red puffy, tear filled eyes.
Kevin bowed his head, "He was so cold. I thought he was dead. I can't. If I see him. I was so angry the last time I talked to him. I yelled at him and told him to fuck off, that I didn't want anything to do with him. And then he-" Kevin didn't finish.
Kevin looked up to meet Eddy's stare. His eyes were also heavy with unshed tears. Eddy knew Kevin was suffering. Just as Kevin knew Eddy was.
Eddy squeezed his arm. "I get it okay, and it's okay. I'll be with you. You don't even have to say anything. Let's just go sit with him."
Kevin chuckled. "Careful, people might start thinking we're becoming friends."
Eddy laughed and pushed Kevin away playfully. "Yeah, so not happening Jockstrap."
One of the few certainties in life is death. The knowledge that one day you will come to your eminent demise. Not many things are promised, but death most certainly is. Some people escape death briefly. Caught on the edge of extinction only to be pulled right back into a life of pain and anguish. There were many accounts of what was possibly waiting on the other side. Perhaps a warm glowing light would guide you through the vessels of time to a golden gate where your deceased family waited to greet you in the afterlife. And yet, if death was supposed to welcome you with a warm, motherly embrace then why- why did this existence feel so bleak and cold?
Everything hurt and his head throbbed painfully. A piercing headache stabbed through his temples and rattled his bones to their core. His whole body felt unbearably heavy and he struggled to move his limbs. A sudden panic ensued as he tried to free himself from whatever was holding him captive. Erratic beeping echoed throughout the room fueled by his fear of being restrained. Fight or flight kicked him into overdrive. He needed to get out of this predicament now. Right. Now.
Heightened hysteria ensued. He thrashed as much as his body would allow him too. In his head he was moving violently, but he wasn't sure if his physical body mirrored his mind's reaction. Panicked voices rushed at him. Words were shouted. Incoherent mumbles washed over him. He registered the words, but couldn't process what they meant. A warmth spread through his veins and he internally calmed. A sedated slumber swallowed him as the fight escaped.
Flashes of memories surfaced in his subconscious. Water and blood. Broken glass. A riptide current taking him under. Drowning in sorrows. Scared and familiar voices. Strong arms holding him. A darling voice that sang him into his eternal slumber. Then the cold came. Nothing was comforting about the place he was in. An unbearable cold. It was death. Or at least he thought it was.
Smells came next. Alcohol and disinfectant. The smells which could only be associated with hospitalization. Gruff voices he didn't know talking over him. Some soft voices too. The feeling of being weak and powerless. Being a prisoner once again in a broken body, but not being able to cry out for help. Just plain trapped.
Hazy unconsciousness would come to claim him and take him hostages for unbeknownst periods of time. It was like he was there even though he really wasn't. This was a whole other level of hell and helplessness. Familiar voices would come to him at times. He could rarely distinguish what they said, but they were there and that was somewhat comforting. At least he wasn't completely alone. It's funny really. That was what he wanted originally, to be alone. To escape this tortured life. But this isn't what he wanted. The feelings he remembered were terrifying. In the moment it was wonderful. He'd found eternal bliss, but the aftermath was devastating. He'd questioned every motive he'd ever had. This hell was not what he had envisioned. Freedom; he just wanted to get away from his thoughts. He wanted it to all just stop.
The fogginess was starting to clear. He'd felt more present than he had. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but this was the first recollection of clarity he'd had in a while. He was able to open his eyes a small fraction and peek through his eyelashes. He was restrained, which was nothing surprising. He'd known that from earlier memories of paranoia. He flexed his fingers slightly and tried to move his wrists. The restraints were tight, but not painful. He tried to swallow, his throat felt hoarse and dry. He tried to speak, say anything, but nothing came out. He felt his eyes drift close again.
"I hate seeing you like this, Dee."
He knew that voice.
"I tried to get him to come in here with me again, but he won't. Well, he says he can't."
He? He who? And come to think of it, who are you?
"It's been really hard on him. He said some stuff he regrets." The voice chuckled lightly. "I guess we all have."
What did he say? And what did you say?
"I think I'm heading out soon. Gotta check on Lumpy before I head home for the night. His mom says he's starting to act more like himself. I guess what happened to you really shook him. I-" The voice stopped abruptly.
Please, who are you? Why won't you answer my questions?
The tone in the voice turned angry. "I'm so fucking pissed at you Dee. I was right fucking there man. You just left my truck. We could've- You should've told me. I would've stayed. We could've gone for a drive; gotten Lumpy and watched one of his stupid movies. You could've called Marie. Why did you-" The voice broke and a sniffle followed.
What did I do to you?
The voice returned with a cool, gentle tone. "I'll come back tomorrow after school." The voice said and something squeezed his hand.
Warmth radiated and pulsed up his arm. This felt so nice and comforting. The embrace he'd been searching for. The one he waited for after death, but it never came. And as quickly as it came on; the feeling was slipping away. He wasn't ready to be alone again. No, not yet. He'd spent so much time lying in that desolate place of despair and anguish. No, he didn't want that anymore. He wanted to stay where it was warm. Where it felt like someone was trying to get through to him. Like someone genuinely wanted him.
Don't go. Please don't leave me.
"Dee?" The voice said with hope and a hand squeezed him.
Yes, I'm here. Please don't go.
"Dee, can you hear me?" The hand squeezed him a little harder.
The voice, a face was starting to form to go along with it. It was blurry at first, but he knew the tone in that voice. They'd been friends forever.
Feeling was starting to return to him again. He could feel that warmth in his hand. He felt his fingers flex around the hand that held his own; around Eddy's hand.
"Dee, say something, please." Eddy begged.
He felt his eyelids flutter against his cheeks lightly as he tried to open them. As he tried to will himself into existence. He pulled and dragged at his body to cooperate. He was trying; please he was trying. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He felt his lips part, they were dry and cracked. He felt his breath leaving his mouth. He was trying to form words, sentences, anything. His breathing was haggard as he tried to get the words out.
'Don-" He started, but he felt his voice break.
He needed to try again. Hearing his own voice sounded strange and foreign. But he knew Eddy had heard him. Eddy squeezed his hand again reassuringly. He tried again.
"Don't leave me."