The Bright Side

Chapter 1 - Part 1

TRISTAN

A rail higher than myself. Go, Tristan! Explosions of pain in my arm, on my face. My head spinning. A curtain of stars blinking in front of my eyes. Confusion. Darkness.

"Tristan?"

In the blackness that surrounds me, there is a voice, soft and familiar. It makes me feel safe. I'm fighting through the thicket in my brain that is made of thoughts woven together so tightly that I can't single one out. But at least I'm safe.

"Tristan. You need to wake up."

I didn't know I was sleeping, but now that the voice has said it, it makes sense. Why do I have to wake up though? Sleeping, it's so effortless. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that once I wake up, easy will be over. I'll just keep my eyes shut and hope that the voice will go away.

"Come on, kid."

It's Mum. Do I have to go to school? This is a tad bit confusing. I'm not going to school anymore. I try to force my eyelids to part. Every photon hits my retinas like a sledgehammer and explodes into a blazing, excruciating firework. I squeeze my eyes shut again, but it's too late. The blasts resound through all of my body, the echo intensifying in my stomach. I'm gonna be sick.
"Have to throw up, Mum," I choke out.

I'm being pulled upright, there's pain everywhere and in addition my stomach is heaving and contracting. The sour fluid that leaves me drips into the plastic bowl that must be somewhere close to my face. I'm so bummed, I can't even muster the strength to puke properly. A tissue is wiped over my mouth and then I'm lying down again.

There must be something wrong with my brain, it feels as if it's much too small for my skull; I can still feel it swishing around inside from the movement. I try to breathe evenly, to make the motion sickness go away. Am I ill? Maybe it's not my brain drifting around inside my head. Doesn't feel like a brain. More like a cotton ball and about as useful as one. I can't figure out what's up and I'm not sure why but I have a feeling that this is better than being aware.

"You still there, Tristan?"

"I got to sleep, Mum." I know that sleep is the only thing that will make me better.

"Ok. I'm gonna wake you in a few hours again."

Why on earth would she be so cruel? The stars that are projected onto my inner eyelids are so pretty, why would she want to keep me from watching them? They twinkle and twirl, they dance with each other and one by one they fade out and then there's darkness again.

"Keep your eyes shut." There's the voice again. Mum's voice. "Are you awake?"

"I am."

My body feels weird. The side of my head hurts and my left arm is a billion pounds heavy. I can't lift it. I try to move my fingers but they're like stuck together. And there's pain throbbing almost everywhere. I move my right hand over to check on my left. The texture is abrasive and hard and I wonder where my skin has gone. A cast. My left arm is in a cast.

"What's wrong, Mum?"

"You have a concussion. Your arm is broken... multiple times might I add, half your facial skin is peeled off..." She swallows hard.

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember anything?"

I feel a door slamming shut inside of me. Remembering is bad. I don't want to remember. I know that remembering will hurt.

"No."

"You were out with Mark. Skating at Tesco's. You had an accident." Her voice is quivering although I can hear that she's trying to keep calm.