Take Me Away

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven ;; It Would Be Kurt

To know darkness is to know reality. We all know it’s there; we just don’t want to face it. But when you’re forced to face it… what do you do? Facing the darkness has nothing to do with being afraid, but has everything to do with facing your fear. Coming face to face with reality. When sitting in darkness is like lying in bed at night. It’s a time where you think, but unfortunately, your mind seems to focus more when there is nothing to look at. When a topic gets in your head, you can’t seem to push it away. No matter how hard you try.

            I was forced to face the things I’d been hiding from.

All the things I’d been trying not to think about were suddenly a reality. Throwing myself into my writing to take my real world away wasn’t going to help. I suppose that I thought if I just kept writing; I could act like it wasn’t really happening. I could act like it would all come to an end, because every story comes to an end. And everyone knows that any good book has a happy ending.

            But that’s not life.

            Life doesn’t have fairy tale endings. And no matter how much I write, read, paint, or skate, nothing will last forever and nothing can take away those memories forever. They were permanently etched into my timeline and unless this coma wiped my memory, I would always remember it. I would always remember how small Alan’s casket was. I would always remember how much my mother cried when they lowered it into the ground. I would always remember the girl in the hospital with her baby and I would never forget the glass room. The memories of those horrifying days would never fade.

            But I had to live with it.

            I knew that it might have weakened me. And I am still weak. Facing so much in such a short amount of time has been a lot for me to take. But I was still alive. I was still living my life. My brother wouldn’t have wanted me to sulk in all of this. He’d want me to grow up and have enough of a life for the both of us. In my days in the darkness, God helped me realize that. He showed me that it was time. I had had my time to mourn. Now it was my time to heal. I knew it was going to be a long difficult process, and I would break a few times, but I would get there eventually. It was time for me to start facing reality. It was time for me to wake up.

            Then my eyes opened.

            I sat up in bed and looked around the room. It was empty; accept for someone sitting in an ugly yellow/orange armchair and someone sleeping on the visitors benches covered in a light blanket. I sat up and rubbed my throbbing head. What had happened?

            Then I remembered. The ice. The water. The ambulance. It all came back. Too fast. I flopped back in bed and let out on exaggerated groan. Kind of like one of those ‘you have go to be kidding me’ groans.

            The person in the armchair sat up and looked over. It was Kurt. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. Dark circles were curved under his brown eyes and his hair was messy and ragged. But he smiled. Jumping up, and ran over to my bedside and sat down, taking my hand. “Thank God.” He whispered.

            I nodded and smiled at him, “Thank God indeed.”

            We sat in silence for a moment.

“It’s been almost a week.” He finally whispered.

“It felt longer than that.” I confessed.

“For us too.” He said, playing with my fingers.         

“Is that Billy?” I asked, nodding towards the bench.