Lifeline (Daniel Ricciardo)

Chapter 18: Caution

Crikey, I need to apologise for all of my mistakes that for some reason when I proof read the chapters,  they didn't save. Very frustrating but I hope you got the gist still!

I pushed the what looked like Indian food around on my plate. Or at least I think it was curry, all the colours and textures of the meal were merging into one. I wasn't hungry, I didn't want to eat. But I didn't want to be rude after Evan had forked out for our meal.

Sat up Simon's table, in Simon's house, I was all but comfortable. I had no idea what I was meant to be doing.

Although strenuous, my days always used to have a set pattern: get up before Will, go to work until late, avoid Will watching TV when I got home...pack my case for the next race. It wasn't easy all the time, but it was easier than this.

What was the emotion that I was feeling?

Sam spluttered opposite as he swallowed a mouthful of rice, surprisingly he had cleared most of what was on his plate. Evan had done so too.

"Do want some more water, Karin?" Evan asked, gesturing to my empty glass.

"I'm fine, thank you, though." I said back, looking at my friend. He was wearing his usual lopsided grin, only now the glint in his eye was missing slightly.

Evan put his cutlery down as I gave eating one last go, it was however no use. My stomach had been churning constantly.

"Right, I am desperate to go to the toilet..." Ev trailed off, looking around the kitchen for his phone. My stomach was churning even more.

"I don't mind leaving you to clear up!" he continued, laughing to himself. He grabbed his phone and scuttled off towards the stairs. "Seriously though, save it until I get back..." he asserted.

"He seems alright." Sam spoke after a moment of silence. Evan's footsteps had long gone.

"He's not his full self, but better than I was expecting." I stood up and took my plate over to the side, clearing what was left on it into the bin.

"When did you last see him?"

"At the site." I whispered, desperately willing my brain not to think about the events that took place.

Samuel fell quiet once again, he was sat at the table with one leg rested on another chair. His crutches were propped up by the door.

"I feel so brain dead." he muttered after a while. I stopped loading the dishwasher and went back to the table. "Trapped, y'know?"

"Sort of." mumbling, I took my chair again. Sam hadn't uttered a word of how he was feeling to Daniel, and not even to Simon, either.

"It's as if I'm so dosed up on these dozens of tablets that I don't know what's real and what's not. It's numbed the physical pain but..." he trailed off, staring at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't sleep, can't move properly...just feel as if I'm constantly falling from forty thousand feet." He shrugged, maintaining eye contact.

"I understand." Gingerly I nodded and showed that I was ready to continue listening.

"Three weeks ago we were celebrating a podium, now we're half a team down and I'm taking five tablets every morning just to get out of bed. I may never be able to walk unaided again ." He paused, he looked as if he was going to break down any second,  "why didn't I die?"

"Fate, Sam." I whispered, feeling my own eyes well up.

"Why didn't I die instead of Paul, Felix, Brand? The pain would have been over a lot quicker then."