Before You Go | A Prequel

3.11 | The Accident

MAMA WAS AWAKE when Nico finally returned to her hospital room. Gone was the weepy, glazed glare, and in its place, her typical expression. A look that assured Nico she was, without a doubt, fine. It filled him with a silent rage.

"Good morning," she said. Her voice, slightly raspy and slower than usual, but her own, nonetheless.

Nico didn't speak. He took a seat in the chair furthest from the bed, mumbling the lowest and least sincere,"Morning." under his breath. Indestructible fucking bitch.

Outside, the sky was a pale yellow as dusk approached. Nico stared out the window, watching the flock of pigeons that congregated on the roof next door. One took off, and the rest followed, transforming into a cloud of flickering black that twisted and turned before soaring into the sun. Never in his life had Nico been so strangely jealous.

-"Ugh. Get your hand out of your mouth, that's disgusting."

He glanced at his mother. He hadn't even realized he'd been biting his nails. It was a habit he was supposed to have dropped years ago. His hand fell to his lap. He stared at her, and she stared back.

"Something you want to say?"

Nico felt the anger rising up within him. His chest tightened with the breath he drew in through his nose and held it. He forced a stiff shake of his head, keeping his eyes trained on the window.

"Aye. Go on. Say your piece."

His knee jittered under his hand as his fingers tapped, and he shook his head again.

"Aye!" He tensed when she raised her voice. It was ridiculous. Even from a hospital bed with half of her body in casts, she still managed to intimidate."Stop fidgeting with yourself, and spit it... out."

Nico released a labored breath and finally he turned to look at her. And she held the same glare of disdain which she'd cast on him for his entire life. She hated him. There were few times when he'd seen her look at his siblings as if she loved them. But never him. She only ever looked at him one way.

"Well?"

He felt the telltale tremble of his bottom lip betraying him, and immediately he turned away. He wouldn't look at her. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. That was the least he could do for himself.

"Oh. I am touched by the tears. And here after last week's thrashing I would think you'd be jumping for joy at my injury. How cute to see that you care."

At last, Nico broke.

"You think I give a shit about you? I wish you would DIE! I wish—," he choked as the words bubbled in his throat. Lips pressed together as if to keep in the vitriol which begged to finally be let out, "I wish it would've been you. Dad would've never—,"

"Never what?" her eyes spoke with the question, unable to move her head much, but not needing to. "Your papa puts a bullet in his brain, and yet you concern yourself with what he would never do?"

"Well, he wouldn't drive drunk! I know that much! And he would've never... BEAT me like an ANIMAL—,"

"Ma Gospodi, you are dramatic. You think he'd be half as nice as I was after leaving his baby at a park?"

"—He wouldn't make me... give up my twenties, to take care of him, and all of his fucking kids because he couldn't be TRUSTED to not get behind the wheel of a car and try to fucking kill himself!"