I Smoke To Die

Five and a half days after

I was pulled back to the waking world when a bright light was shone into my face. My eyelids snapped open and I immediately winced. 

"He's awake!" a man's voice called. Then, another voice cried, "Oh, thank god!" and I heard footsteps coming closer. 

"Mom?" I croaked. She hurriedly propped me up with my pillows, and when I looked down at myself, I was horrified. I was broken. I could barely believe that the bloody, twisted mess was my body. My skinny arms that had earned me my name Pudge were bruised, my chicken legs twisted at angles not humanly possible. My clothes were burned, and my chest was smashed in, which would explain why I couldn't breathe very well. But I was somehow alive.

"Oh, honey. The doctors say it's up to you, now. Try to stay awake, if you go unconscious again, it could... it could be bad."

"Alaska. Where?" I asked, struggling not to pass out from shock. "Where?"

"Oh, sweetie, she didn't make it. When your car hit the police car, your side was completely obliterated. She must have died instantly. The flames and impact and everything mangled her. I'm so sorry, Miles." My mom reached out for my hand, but I jerked it out of her reach. I felt hot tears sliding down my cheeks, and for the first time, I felt all of the pain and adrenaline and emotions come back and slam into me like a giant wave crashing onto a beach shore and suddenly I couldn't breathe and what was worse I didn't want to. I never wanted to go back to that dark, lonely place with no Alaska Young.

"I beat the labyrinth," I whispered. There was a darkness that threatened to sweep over me. I knew that this time, unlike in the ambulance, I wouldn't come back. Then I accepted the dizzying blackness and fell into the Great Perhaps.