Ashes Of Another Life - Prologue. Broken

The morning will come…
In the press of every kiss
With your head upon my chest.
Where I will annoy you
With every waking breath
Until you…decide to wake up.

I didn’t even hear the door close behind him when he left; already fast asleep inhaling the scent he left behind on my pillow.

In movies, whenever something horrible happens, the main character always just knows. No one has to tell them. Somehow, they can feel that something is wrong. They always have some kind of sixth sense that lets them know something is up beforehand. Their worlds are about to come crashing down around them, but they have warning.

It was nothing like that.

“Conner? Baby, wake up.”

I opened one eye to my mom standing over my bed; hand on my shoulder gently nudging me.

“Mom?” I groaned, rolling over. “Go away.”

“Conner,” she said, and if it weren’t for the break in her voice, I would have ignored her completely.

I turned back to face her, noting the flush in her cheeks, the red in her eyes where they should have been white.

“Mom?” I asked, making myself dizzy with how quick I sat up. “What’s wrong? Is Kylie okay?”

I was already throwing my blankets off, ready to run to wherever my little sister was, but my mom grabbed my shoulder again, shaking her head, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“No,” she said, hiccupping. “No, Kylie, she’s…she’s fine. It’s not…” she trailed off, sobbing on an exhale.

I frowned, squinting up at her, still trying to wake up fully so I could follow this conversation. I really needed that energy drink.

And the second that thought crossed my mind I was fully awake. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I felt my insides go icy cold in an instant, all over, all at once. All the air disappeared from the room, and I felt my face flash hot as all the blood rushed to my head. Time seemed to slow, and I swallowed glass, my throat working furiously as I forced myself to look at my mom and ask.

“Where’s Justin?” I forced out, my voice nothing more than a hoarse rasp. I was choking on absolutely nothing at all and it was ridiculous, because in just a second, my mom was going to tell me that Justin was downstairs watching TV or in the other room keeping an eye on Kylie.

But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything at all. She just stared at me, completely silent, a tear leaving a wet trail down her already damp cheek, like she’d been crying for awhile before she came to get me.

“Mom!” I snapped, stumbling to my feet. “Where is he? Where’s Justin?”

She closed her eyes, reaching for me. “I’m sorry…”

My stomach twisted. “No,” I said, shaking my head and stepping away. I didn’t want her hugging me, comforting me. There wasn’t a reason for it, because this was a joke. What could possibly have happened on the way across the street?

“Just tell me where he is.” I was already grabbing my keys. “I’ll go get him and it’ll be fine.”

“Conner…” my mom said sitting down on my bed, sniffling. “Listen…”

“Stop fucking crying!” I snapped, cursing at my mother for the first time ever as far back as I could remember.

My mom jumped, startled, and her teeth clicked audibly when she snapped her mouth shut.

I swallowed. “I’m sorry, I just… just stop crying. I don’t know why you’re… I mean…there’s no reason to cry, right?”

She just stared at me, pity leaking from the corners of her eyes, and everything inside of me…shattered. Literally shattered. I felt it happen. It was like everything inside of me was frozen in terror and that one look was like a sledgehammer to the chest, breaking everything inside that kept me going in the span of a second. It hurt. Physical pain everywhere and I gripped my stomach against it.

“Mom,” I said, and it should have been impossible for that sound to have come from me. “Mom, please…”

I don’t know what I expected her to do, but I needed something. I needed her to take it back, or tell me that I was right and that whatever it was, wasn’t as serious as she was making it out to be, because I couldn’t handle this.

I always thought it was just dramatics, something that wasn’t really genuine, when people fell all over themselves crying, but I could feel my legs starting to give out on me. It was only a matter of time before that sick, twisting in my stomach made its way up my throat and out of my mouth. I could feel my mouth watering, salty thin liquid building up under my tongue, and…no.

“Please,” I whispered again.

My mom only stared for a second longer before taking a breath to still herself, and standing up, determined as she approached me.

“I’ve got the car heated up,” she said, the calm in her voice contradicted by the shake in her hands, the unsteadiness of her steps. “You’re sister’s ready.” She took another breath. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“Nobody is talking to me,” I told my mom. All that I knew was that Justin had been waiting to cross the street, when a woman stopped and waved to let him walk, but apparently the lady driving up behind her didn’t get the memo. She swerved around the car in front of her and hit him.

We lived in an apartment complex just off of a highway. My mom couldn’t afford much after my father left, but I’d always been fine living there. Always thought my mom was just was just being overprotective and paranoid when she wouldn’t let Kylie play outside.

I was so stupid.

Justin had been in surgery for hours, and when the doctors finally came out, they didn’t talk to me. I don’t know why I thought they would. They went right over to Justin’s parents and I followed, got as close as I could, but I didn’t hear anything over the hum of the fluorescent lights, and the television playing in the waiting room.

I wanted to scream. No one was even paying attention to me. The only information I had, had been pieced together from what my mother told me about the accident, and what Justin’s younger brother told me when I followed him to the bathroom.

I couldn’t help but feel like there was something I wasn’t being let in on—something that Anthony didn’t know that would somehow make all of this alright.

But no one was saying a word to me.

“They could at least tell me how he’s doing,” I added.

Mom was sitting in one of the waiting room chairs, eyes sunken and tired, with Kylie asleep in her lap. She hadn’t moved in hours except to run her fingers through Kylie’s curls.

She turned to face me now, blowing her hair out of her eyes in the way she does when she’s upset and doesn’t want to say anything about it.

“I’m sure they’ll talk to you when they have something to tell,” she said, but the words sounded empty. Just what you say in these situations. She yawned, lifting a hand to push her hair further back, fingers getting caught halfway through.

She sighed, taking a look at me. “They’re probably distracted Conner. I would be.”

I huffed out a breath, falling down into the chair next to her. “What if they don’t let me see him?” I asked, because that’s what I was really worried about. He was alive and that was good enough for me, but I needed to see it. He was hurt and it didn’t seem right that I was so far away, so far out of the loop.

My breath quickened, and I clenched my jaw. “He’d want me to be there when he wakes up.”

Mom took her hand from Kylie’s head and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling my head down to her own. It was an uncomfortable position, my body scrunching down to match her height. But I didn’t try to move.

“They will,” she assured me, tone soothing, and even though I knew there was no way she could know that for sure, I tried to believe her.

We won’t know anything until he wakes up.

We don’t know that he is going to wake up.

We don’t know.

The doctor’s words of so-called ‘comfort’ weren’t comforting at all. I wanted to hit something. Doctors are supposed to have the answers. Maybe not all the answers but I didn’t think it was too much to ask that they have just one. The only useful information I got was when visiting hours started. I could have asked the fucking receptionist and gotten as much.

I sat in the waiting room fuming. My jaw hurt from clenching it, and there was so much tension in my shoulders, my back was already hurting. Justin’s parents had been let in to see him just over an hour ago, and hadn’t been out since. It wasn’t fair. And yeah, whatever, life isn’t fair, but I couldn’t just sit there. I’d have bet everything I owned Justin would be asking for me when he woke up.

“Conner,” my mom said when Kylie finally stirred in her lap. “We should get home. We can come back, but you need your sleep.”

I laughed. Nothing was funny, but I laughed loud and long, until my chest was heaving and my face was red for lack of oxygen. Sleep? If I hadn’t been so tired, this wouldn’t have even happened. I laughed through the hollow pain in my chest, and tears springing in my eyes. I laughed until I was gasping for air and my stomach was cramping.

I laughed until I wasn’t laughing anymore, but it was awhile before I could tell the difference. My chest was still heaving, my body still shaking, and I still couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t until I tried to move that I realized my mom’s arms were around me.

“We can stay,” she whispered, kissing my forehead. “It’s okay, we can stay.”

And we did. We stayed until they finally let me in the room to see Justin. I waited impatiently through all of the doctors warnings about what to expect, and ignored all of my mothers cautioning. I barely even registered Mr. and Mrs. Feller’s presence, too busy trying to pick out which room was his.

They wanted me to be prepared. ‘He won’t look like himself,’ they’d said, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t care what he’d look like. ‘There was a lot of damage,’ they’d warned, but yeah, obviously. I hear the sky is also sort of blue. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear them over the blood rushing in my ears anyway. I just wanted to see him. I needed it.

I…maybe should have listened a bit closer.

It really didn’t matter that he didn’t look like himself. His face was swollen red, purple, blue, and black. He was all wrapped in white, spots of red seeping through the dressing but only barely, just here and there. Both of his legs were in casts but the left one also had cage type of thing that I’d never seen before around it and a bar that connected it to the other leg. There was a neck brace and more swelling than I’d ever seen before, but it was Justin. I’d know him anywhere.

“Shit,” I gasped, and the tears were back. I didn’t care. I moved toward the bed and grabbed his hand, lightly so I wouldn’t hurt him.

He didn’t squeeze back. I…panicked, breaths coming shorter, vision going blurry, because Justin always squeezed back. His hand was just limp and cold and broken. I felt sick.

I could hear people moving behind me—a doctor or his parents, I didn’t know—but they didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out, all the air rushing out of me with those words. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to say them. How much I wanted him to hear me. “I’m so sorry.” My fingers trembled around his and I waited.

He didn’t respond. Not a twitch.

They hadn’t told me about this. They’d been so specific—so blunt—about the extent of his physical injuries, but I’d expected the coma to be more like a…deep sleep that he couldn’t come out of. The word coma was scary, but it’d been a relief. I’d expected…

I hadn’t expected this. This wasn’t sleep. Justin responded to me in his sleep. Instinctively moved toward my voice, gripped my hand as soon as he felt my fingers. This…wasn’t sleep. This was something else entirely. This was…

No.

I shut the thought out cold, before it could even form in my mind. I wouldn’t let it exist. Wouldn’t let myself even take a look down that road.

“You are not dead,” I told him, practically commanded. I had no idea where the words came from. I wasn’t even sure I was really talking to Justin, but I needed to hear those words aloud. “You’re not dead.”

I could hear shuffling behind me but I ignored it, gripping Justin’s hand a little tighter. They told me he could hear me. They said I should talk to him.

“I’ll…I’m staying,” I said, as firm as I could with my voice as tired as it was and my throat closing in on me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Justin wasn’t going to be alone. I promised him I’d be there every day. Every single day, no exceptions. I wasn’t going to forget, and I wouldn’t let him forget me.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” I whispered. “I promise.”

If morning never comes…
For either one of us
Then this I pray to you
Wherever.