Between Good And Evil - 4. Interlude A: When Death Calls

1

The hole in the wall stared back at Blake like a one eyed demon of regret. He hadn’t meant to lash out and strike the drywall. It was sudden -- an outward expression of inner pain. He ran his left hand over the knuckles of his right and winced. Nothing was broken, but it would be sore for a few days. Luckily, he hadn’t hit a stud.

He plopped on his bed and waited for the footsteps to finally make it to his room. The punch had been quick, hard, and had caused a loud thumping sound to reverberate throughout the house; his mother would be there within seconds to check on him.

Despair is a monster that doesn’t relent, a thief that stalks silently through the night of the mind until it strikes and steals whatever happiness and optimism it can sink its claws into. At that moment, despair had turned its sights on Blake and it had struck, leaving Blake -- a person used to darkness and regret -- in a place darker than he had ever known. If it wasn’t for his belief in God and Hell, Blake would have killed himself.

His mother burst through the door and stared for a moment. Upon seeing the hole in the wall, her face became stern and then softened. She sighed and then said, “I know it hurts now. I know you’re confused, but trust in God. He will get you through this.”

He hadn’t told his mother what had happened, what he had witnessed. After Jeremy struck Benjamin, Blake left the scene quickly. The thought of calling the cops never crossed his mind as he sped to his house, his high speed a symptom of the tragedy he had just witnessed. His return trip home was a blur, the icy streets and skidding of his car was all he could remember.

Once safely back in his empty house, Blake had paced. The walking soothed him, the rhythmic motions seemingly helping his thought process along. For over four hours, Blake had paced, the entire accident running through his mind repeatedly. He couldn’t quit reliving what he had witnessed: Jeremy striking Benjamin, Benjamin striking the windshield, Benjamin rolling and tumbling off the car like an odd shaped bowling ball dropped from the sky. Finally, after becoming physically ill from the horrid replay, Blake bashed his fists into his head. It was a rash move, and Blake laughed slightly at his sudden onset of insanity.

Blake changed scenery, moving quickly to his room, and his mind’s eye changed scenery as well. Outside, the blizzard had reached its climax and no light made its way through the window in his bedroom. The dark sky outside seemed to wash the room with gray and dampen its usual color. Blake took note of the darkness and could relate; something had washed the colors from his brain as well.

He loved Jeremy. The kid had been his best friend for years and he loved him like a brother. At that moment of weakness, Blake allowed himself to admit that he loved Benjamin as well, though he couldn’t figure out what could cause him to feel such strong emotions for a person that he had basically just met. He didn’t know if Benjamin was dead, but he thought that it was incredibly likely. The fact that one person you love, killing another person you love, was the worst thing a person could ever face was not lost on him. In fact, it was the biggest cause of the large hole in his wall.

“God? What the fuck, Mom? God? Fuck God. I don’t fucking care about God. And. . . and how do you know what happened, anyway?” His voice was an octave higher than usual, and it shook. There was nothing in him that was steady, and he feared his voice had given that fact away.

The plump woman chewed on her lip for a moment, and Blake braced for the scolding. She was a stern woman, a disciplinarian more than a friend, and she was deeply religious. There was no way that she’d allow him to get away with such sacrilege. She sat down next to him, and he felt the mattress sink under her immense weight. She was silent for another minute then, finally, as Blake was ready to tell her to get on with it, she reached over and pulled him in for a hug. “I know it’s tough, I really do, but we’ll get through this. I know Jeremy was your best friend, but he was troubled, honey. He really was.”

He leaned into her and took comfort in her warmth. She would never understand the complete gravity of the situation, of Benjamin, but she was still willing to turn a cheek to his attitude and lend a shoulder for him to cry on. “Who. . . who told you what happened?”

She sighed and then, “Blake, it’s Hidden Silver. The news had spread within ten minutes of the cops showing up. A vigil is being set up at the spot of the accident. Benjamin’s in a coma and we’re all going to go there and pray that he makes it through. You should come. It might do you some good to talk to your friends.”

“I-I can’t right now. Not today. It’s too soon.”

“I understand, honey. I love you.”

They stayed in that position for several minutes. Eventually, Blake curled up in the crook of his mother’s arm and did something he hadn’t done in over 10 years. Blake cried in full view of another person.

2

“Remember when we were like 11 and went sledding on Snake Hill? You tripped on that stupid white rock and started to tumble down? I grabbed your hand, I grabbed it, and it took everything in me, but I pulled you up. We laughed for years about how I saved your life, even though it was bullshit. You would have rolled for a few and then been cold, cold but alive.” Alexa wiped the tears from her face with her left hand, grasped tighter onto Benjamin’s with her right and continued, “When it was time to actually save you, I failed. I fucking failed, and I know you’re not dead, but you aren’t coming back either. I wouldn’t have dreamt it if you were coming back. It doesn’t work like that. It never has, so I know. I know, Benjamin, I know. And fuck these doctors, fuck ‘em all, because I know you’re gone forever, and I know it’s my fault,” Alexa paused, planned to continue, but got up and left the room. She was sure that a total breakdown would overcome her if she didn’t get some air.

Hidden Silver’s lone hospital was a small, one floor building. It took Alexa only 55 seconds to leave Benjamin’s room, make her way down the cold, white halls and exit into the pure white of the day. The blizzard was over, but a thick blanket of snow remained, reminding Alexa of ashes, the last remnants of her burned world.

She pulled a pack of Newports from the pocket of the white, puffy jacket Benjamin bought her for her 16th birthday, removed a cigarette and lit it. The thick smoke filled her lungs and the nicotine spread throughout her body; she felt calmer almost immediately.

She ran her hand over the soft jacket and thought about the day Benjamin had given it to her. It had been Saturday morning -- her birthday had been the Friday before -- and she awoke to Benjamin jumping on her bed, the curls on his head bouncing in rhythm with his body. She smiled and he smiled; she loved him even if she knew they could never be together. He bounced one last time, sat next to her, and said, “So, I was at the mall the other day and I saw this. It’s going to look so good on you. Especially when you wear those skin tight white pants you love so much.” He handed her the meticulously wrapped package -- green paper, white bow -- and she smiled again.

“You and your damn fashion sense,” she rolled her eyes and gave a crooked smile, “I can’t believe I had to be told you were gay.” She carefully unwrapped the paper, making sure not to rip it -- it was obvious he had taken great time and care -- and lifted the pink box from its nest. She shot him a bewildered look and pulled the top free from the box. Parting the white paper, she gasped and then giggled when she saw the jacket. “Oh my God,” she said as she freed the jacket from its compact space, “It’s so beautiful, Benjamin. I absolutely love it.”

Benjamin smiled and sat back on his elbows. Alexa noticed the way his shirt rode up slightly and revealed the defined muscles of his abdomen. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind and diverted her eyes back to her gift. “I knew you would. As soon as I saw it, I knew you’d love it. Happy birthday.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. A smile plastered her face, and she melted underneath his hot breath.

She kicked the snow and watched it fly in the air. She attempted to hit her cigarette again, but it had gone out; she had been completely frozen in memory. She dropped the cigarette and leaned against the wall. She lost herself in loss, loss of her best friend, her brother. She allowed herself to slip into the past, memories of a time when Benjamin was present.

After countless minutes reliving joy that would never again be known, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked to her left, let out a low moan and embraced her mother. The warmth did nothing for the coldness that had crept into her mind and infiltrated the very soul she didn’t believe she had.

She sobbed for a few minutes then said, “He’s gone, Mom. I know they say he can come back from this, that he can wake up. They say there’s hope, but there’s not. It’s the end for him, and I can’t do anything about it. I tried. God, I tried.”

“There’s still hope, Honey. People wake up from comas all the time.” The woman sighed and pulled her daughter closer. “And I know you think there’s something you could have done. It’s human nature to think we have the power to stop tragedy, but all we can do is embrace it, overcome it, and learn from it. It’s not your fault, Alexa. You didn’t get drunk and decide to drive.”

The breakdown Alexa had been running from finally caught up and she ripped away from her mother. With tears steadily falling down her face, she said, “I don’t need a fucking pep talk. I need a fucking time machine because I could help him. I knew, Mom, I fucking knew, and I didn’t get there in time.”

“That’s just ridiculous, Alexa. I know . . .”

“It’s not fucking ridiculous, it’s reality. This is reality, my reality, and there’s nothing I can do to change it now.”

3

It’s like I’m trapped in a cliché.

Three sides of the small cell were cold and white. Jeremy saw regret in each of the cement blocks, the building material of his future. There were no bars in sight, only cement blocks and a transparent door that used some complex locking mechanism to steal his freedom.

What the fuck did I do? What the Hell happened?

Jeremy could feel himself sober with the fall of each tear, as though the alcohol haze was being shed with his pain, his eyes a drain for the sewage that had backed up inside him.

He couldn’t remember the actual death of his mother’s boyfriend, only the fight before and the blood after.

I’ve really lost it, haven’t I? Haven’t I?

He expected a response from the voice that seemed the have taken up residency in his head, but there was none. The voice was gone; he wondered if it was ever there to begin with.

Jeremy also didn’t remember hitting the boy, Benjamin. He had blacked out twice in one day, though he suspected the second blackout was solely due to chemicals, unlike the first. His memory ended in his room with a bottle and began again in the cliché, the cell where all bad boys go to rot.

He sat on the bed and trembled.

With eyes glued on the steel toilet-sink demon hybrid, Jeremy tried to fish memories from a lake polluted with chemicals. If the memories swam, they didn’t bite, and he wondered if he was insane. Obviously, I am. Normal people don’t hear fuckin’ voices, black out, murder people, and nearly kill a classmate while drunk.

He sat on the bed and wept.

He guessed it had been an hour since the cop had come to his cell and explained the situation to him; the loneliness had already crept through him, and he craved human contact.

4

Snow fell, and Benjamin ran, hoping to put distance between him and the light. Who the fuck goes into the light? I don’t know what this is, but I know it isn’t right. This. . . this isn’t Hidden Silver, and I’m probably dead. I’ll be damned if I walk into the light.

Benjamin found himself on a never-ending blanket of white; there was nothing but snow covered ground as far as his eye could see. Behind him, the light followed. Bright and beautiful, it reached across the entire plane of his vision. He looked towards the sky and saw nothing but white. It’s like I’m peering into a fucking mirror. Maybe I am, who the fuck knows? The thought made him disoriented, forcing him to stop his hurried trot towards nothing.

The light didn’t slow and, within seconds, was upon him. He tried to run forward again, but the snow seemed to grab his feet, tethering them in place. The light overcame his entire reality.

And then there was nothing.