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Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for clicking on the second installment The John and Cassie Series and the sequel to Crayons. This one was written by my awesome sister and she'd love it if you'd visit her blog, passporttorainbows.wordpress.com [ you can always click the external link at the side. ]
Thanks so much and don't forget to vote and comment! Love lots. x
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On a rainy Tuesday afternoon John’s mom drove home after a long day at the Riverwalk, a mall she frequents in the downtown business district to buy a week’s worth of groceries. As she was cruising by Iberville Street, she heard tires screeching then a bright light engulfed her.
“It will be a year ago in two weeks, Hon.” Elissa managed to finally tell her husband after a week of sleepless nights.
“I know. I wonder how John’s doing. Since that day he hasn’t really talked about Aline. I’m worried about the kid. Cassie says he’s been awfully quiet lately.”
“Maybe we should go on a trip or watch a game so he could take his mind off it. Let’s ask Phillip.” She tried to sound cheerful but failed miserably. If they were this depressed, it must be hell for John.
“Isn’t it too soon?”
“We have to try.” Her voice trailed off as she focused her gaze on the quiet, empty road outside their 19th century house. It was raining just like the day they lost her.
Almost a year ago, a drunk driver skidded across the road uncontrollably and hit Aline’s car. Elissa and Ron had to pick John up from baseball practice that afternoon and take him to the hospital. On the way, he kept asking where they were going and they just didn’t know what to tell him so they kept mum and maintained their composure for the kid. John knew something was wrong. Cassie’s parents always show up and take him for rides but they were never this quiet, never. He felt a knot forming in his stomach and it grew as they sped through the free lane and into the emergency entrance of the hospital.
And then he saw her. His mom lay there, serene but pale. He ran over to her, oblivious to the crowd of nurses in the room and the doctors staring at him with sympathy. Tears were streaming down his face as he hugged her tight.
“John. John. JOHN!”
“Huh?” He froze as he felt his wet cheeks. John tried to compose himself as his dad walked in the room holding a phone to his ear.
“You alright buddy?” He asked, convinced that his 16-year-old needed some cheering up. Unlike Phillip, the only time John cried was at hospital while he held on to his mom. After that, John never cried, not at the funeral, at his mom’s birthday or any of their family traditions. Anyone would think that he was over it and has completely moved on but not Phillip. He would often see his son staring out the window for hours at times, quiet and unmoving, just like this morning.
