The Death of the One and Only Son

                                                                          Jake

                                                                       May 11th

Bright lights suck. Especially when they wake you up in the wee hours of the mourning.

My mom stood beside me and unlike her usual togetherness, she was a mess; even for the time, her face showed settlement and I swear I could see a tear sliding down her face. But maybe I'm seeing things my mom never cries.

“Jakob, honey, their was an accident.” she said grief in her voice.

My first thought was my Dad. Away on a business in England.

“Your friend, Andrew Hastings.” She wiped away what I'm now certain is a tear. “He died, baby.” With a sudden burst of emotion, almost as if she'd lost his own son.

It took a moment to sink in, my best friend was dead. And I panicked, Andrew couldn't be dead. His girlfriend, she was pregnant and he had this master plan, for himself, Lyra Barry and their unborn child. Hell lot of good that would do now.

Maybe I should have cried, but I didn't. I think that was what my mom expected. Instead I pushed for more details. “What happened?”

“ I don't know. Anna Hastings was brief, but I think she said it was some kind of Motorcycle accident.” My mom said after regaining most of her composure. “Never been so glade you never got into the things. They're death traps, you know.” She rambled.

She probably would have continued to blabber on but I jumped out of bed and began to dress, I knew what I had to do. I needed to go tell Lyra, the Hastings wouldn't be giving their sons secret girlfriend a phone call and she deserved better than to find out from a newspaper head line.

“Where do think your going?” she asked in a strict parental voice.

“I need to go and tell some guys.” I lied smoothly, while combing through my shaggy black hair with my fingers.

“Call them. Its three thirty in the morning, you can't go showing up at peoples door steps, their parents will have a fit.” My mom said and moved so she blocked the door.

“This isn't something I should tell someone over the phone, and I'm certain their parents will understand.” My mom didn't look like she would move. “I'll be careful, I promise. Even avoid any death traps that come my way.”

She moved aside. I gave her a brief hug. Then walked down the stairs and out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind me, I was shocked by how bitterly cold the morning air was, especially for May. But my Camry, despite its age started right up. And it took until I was half way down my suburban street, for me to begin to consider what I was going to say. How do you tell someone, the man they love is dead? Hell if I know.

I'm glade I went to Lyra's apartment last week, or I'm certain I'd have no idea where I was going. This wasn't my normal part of town, the cheap apartments, where the papers constantly reported drug busts and domestic disputes. His mom wouldn't be happy if she knew this was where he was going.

Andrew's parents despised this part of town. They had some weird hatred of poor people, blamed them for all of society's problem's.Guess that was why Andrew never mentioned to his parents that he had a girlfriend or that she was pregnant.

Maybe I should be pissed that he left his life in such shambles. Maybe Lyra would be, but I doubted it. Andrew was one of you couldn't really be mad at, he had the kind of personality people were attracted to.

                                    Thoughts? Ideas? Comment Please :D