Manic

Chapter 33.

Forget what you've heard about falling.

It doesn't happen in slow motion, and you don't have time to regret your decision on the way down. All that came to my mind was AHHH as I plummeted to the ground.

It's the landing that the time for regret kicks in.

My legs hit the pavement first, and all I remember hearing was the ear piercing sound of my bones shattering.

The next thing I remember was the blood.

I could smell it first, the metallic smell crept to my nostrils as I felt the warm, thick, liquid flowing from my head.

And then there was the screaming.

It wasn't coming from me, but from someone nearby.

Footsteps approach me, "Are you okay? What's your name? Can you hear me?"

I remember mumbling something before my vision gets cloudy. I see stars. And then, I see nothing.

xxx

I wake up to the sound of monitors beeping. My eyes seem to weigh a thousand pounds as I struggle to open them. The effort causes my head to ache so I stop trying. My entire body feels like it is being weighed down by tons of stones. My legs... I can't feel my legs. Are they still there?

I struggle to feel with my arms, but they won't listen to me.

I lie in what I'm assuming is a hospital bed, and all I can think is that I failed.

I can't even kill myself.

I hear a familiar voice coming from somewhere to my right. It's mom.

"Is he going to be okay," She says. From the sound of her voice I can tell she has been crying.

"Elijah is going to be just fine. Luckily for him, his legs broke the fall and took most of the damage. Aside from the broken bones, he has a severe concussion, but yes. He will be okay." A lady's voice replies to my mother.

Luckily.

How lucky could I be?

I hear mom as she lets out a sigh of relief. "Is he going to be in pain?"

"At the moment he is heavily drugged, and won't feel a thing. But when the drugs wear off, he will be in a lot of pain." The same voice says. "We need to talk about what happens next." She says.

"What do you mean?" Mom asks.

"Elijah attempted to kill himself. State law requires we keep him in a behavioral health hospital for at least a week."

Mom sobs.

"Is there anyone else you would like to call about the accident?"

Mom is silent for a few moments. Then she responds. "I need to call his father."

I suddenly get dizzy, stars dance across the blackness of my eye sockets, and I go unconscious.

xxx

This time, when I wake, I can open my eyes. I wiggle my toes, just to make sure they're still there. Sure enough, a terrible sensation runs through my legs. I groan in pain.

Suddenly mom is beside me, her hand holding mine, the other brushing the hair from my face. "Elijah," She says softly.

"Mom," I say. I wasn't sure what to say to her. Hey, I'm sorry I jumped from our four story apartment window? I'm sorry I tried to kill myself? I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment? I decide to leave it at that.

Mom seems to be having the same thoughts, as she doesn't say anything after that. She just continues to stroke my forehead, and hold my hand. I feel a tear fall from my eye, and try to blink it away, but it continues to fall. Mom brushes it off my cheek. She takes a deep breath, "Honey," She says.

"Mom,"

"I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course."

"Good. I just wanted to say it again."

The memory comes to my mind, "Did you call dad?" I ask.

Mom hesitates, "I called Chuck, yes."

"How long have you known he was out of prison?"

"A few years."

I sigh. "I saw him in New York." I finally admit.

Mom is silent. "He told me." She says. "Is that why you..."

"No." I answer quickly.

Mom strokes my hair, and plants a kiss on my forehead. "I love you." She says.

"I love you too."

xxx

The next time I wake, I hear hushed voices arguing. I keep my eyes closed, if only to listen to the conversation.

"Nine years, Chuck..." It's mom. "No support... All alone..."

"You don't understand..." I recognize that voice as yours.

I can pick up small pieces of the conversation, but by now, I don't care to eavesdrop.

"Dad?" I say, and you both go silent.

Mom and you rush beside me, mom taking my hand in hers, and you standing awkwardly beside the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mother called me..." You say and hesitate, not sure what else to say. Not that there was much you could say. Sorry for beating you and almost killing you when you were younger. Sorry for getting out of prison and disappearing. Sorry for letting you go back in New York, when what you wanted was for me to ask you to stay. No, there wasn't a single thing you could say. So you stand there in silence.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" Mom asks.

My legs were throbbing, but that was common given the circumstances. My head was pounding, but that was also obvious. I can't imagine what I look like right now, but my lack of response and what I'm guessing I looked like answered your question.

Mom strokes my hand in a loving manner. "I can send him out if you want." She says, referring to you.

"No," I say, almost too quickly. "It's okay."

You sigh beside me, as if you had been holding your breath this whole time. "Eli," You say. That's what you used to call me. I hated it when anyone else tried to call me by that name, but when it came from you? I missed hearing it. "What were you thinking?"

Mom shoots you a glare. "He means to say," Mom says, "We love you so much and wouldn't wish this on you ever."

"I know," I begin. "I'm sorry." 

Mom sobs, "Don't be sorry, baby."

But in that moment, all I can feel is regret. What was I thinking?