Song Shots *CLOSED*

Song Shot 8: Youth (Daughter)

My eighth Song Shot is for @JudahAS, sending me a request just when I thought nobody remembered these things! So this one’s for you girl ;) Enjoy xx

************************************************************************

Brooklyn’s POV

I watched James as he slept, the constant rising and falling of his chest a slow rhythmic pattern, the even breathing leaving pearls of spit on his parted lips, his chiseled features randomly twitching, proving to me that he was still alive. Even though the light hospital gown and the harsh white lights of the room made him look even more pale and ill than he did already, I knew he would get better.

At least, he probably would.

I grasped his icy hand in mine, remembering the first time we met. It was last year in 10th grade, when he was rushing through the halls and bumped into me, making me drop my science, history and math book. To clarify, I was a serious nerd, back then, but that was the past; catch me dead studying nowadays. Anyway, he had helped me pick them up again, our hands brushing against each other many times. Once he was done he smiled a breathtaking smile at me and walked away, leaving me perplexed and more than a little dazed. I was just about to pack my math book away in my locker when I saw a little paper sticking out of it. I pulled the scrap out and grinned so widely I thought my mouth would ripe once I read the message; ‘Call me’, with a number scribbled underneath.

I sighed, squeezing James’ hand again and willing him to wake up. My newely pierced ear (obviously for the third time) throbbed painfully but I ignored the sensation, focusing on our memories.

After our third date James had gone on his knees in front of all the people in the restaurant, and, while I blushed furiously, he asked me to be his girlfriend. Last year he, too, was less… shall I say ‘badass’ as he is now; we’ve both changed since then.

Moments after he asked that we had had our first kiss, though the customers had enough decency not to watch us.

I leaned into James now, placing my lips on his and wishing he would react, like a fairy tale. A kiss would wake him up.

Only it didn’t. I’ve already lost my mom and sister in a car crash; it was Christmas Eve six months ago, and the two of them had gone and picked up the cranberry sauce from a friend since none of the family could really cook. On the way home, a snow storm hit, and they swerved and crashed the car.

They died instantly.

I won’t be able to hand it if James dies as well. I have my dad, sure, but a bond with a parent of the opposite gender is hard in some ways. We can’t talk about everything, like I could with my mom and my sister (when she wasn’t being bitchy; she was only thirteen, yet she was a total drama queen).

I left James side for the first time in a few hours and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and shuffling over to the far corner so that the smoke wouldn’t bother him. Usually, he smoked way more than me (part of the reason he was here), but I didn’t know how vulnerable he was right now. Better be safe than sorry, a motto I will use for the first time in years.

I studied his features, shaking my head when I thought he was becoming paler by the second. This smoke must be going to my brain and making me crazy. However, as I continued to watch him, I saw the lines on his heart monitor become fewer and higher, until finally, when he was white as a sheet, the line went dead and a horrible drone escaped out of the machine. I raced over to his bed and pushed the ‘need assistance’ button, shouting at James.

“You asshole! Wake up, do you hear me?” Tears starting pooling in my eyes and dripping from my face. “I need you!” The cigarette now dangled limply from my numb fingers, forgotten, and I had to be careful and hide it when doctors burst into the room.

“Ms., you must leave. Now!” With those words one of the many doctors grabbed my arm and shoved me outside, closing the door behind him.

***(3 hours later)***

I stared at the cigarette butts on the ground, counting them. One… two… three… four… five… six… seven! My eight ciggi was clenched between my lips and I puffed, blowing the smoke out and staring at the clouds of grey. Maybe this is what my heart looks like on the inside, dark and shriveled and sick of everything in my life going wrong.

Finally, long after I discarded my last cigarette, the head doctor entered the waiting room through a side door and approached me. I swear to god, if James is not okay, I will kill this man.

“Ms… Brooklyn?” he addressed, looking at his clipboard with a furrowed brow. I nodded. “James has had a Circulatory collapes, meaning his heart collapsed.” He paused, waiting for me understand. “This sickness is almost always vital, and my team of doctors and I couldn’t do anything to save him. I’m sorry, Brooklyn. Your boyfriend is dead.”

What? What? WHAT?!

“How dare you!2 I screamed, spitting at his face. “You stupid, useless piece of fucking shit!” I fumed at him and rasied my fist, punching him squarely in the nose. The doctor gasped in pain and covered his face, groaning petiously. To large, burly men rushed into the scene and dragged me to the hospital doors, throwing me out and not caring that I thumped onto the ground and twisted my ankle.

How dare he! I screamed, pulling at my hair, and ongoing pedestrians tutted at me in disgust and hurried by, almost as if they were scared of me. Well, rightly so. I felt like killing something right now.

After a while of hair tugging and crying I pulled myself off the filthy sidewalk and traipsed to a nearby shop, kicking the door open and immediately making my way to the alcohol section. I reached out and grabbed a bottle, checking the labe; Whisky. Sure, why not.

I reached the cashier and gave the bottle to a fat, ugly man who scanned it and showed me the price.

“You better be eighteen,” he said to me, but he wasn’t serious.

“Yep,” I said, though I was actually a minor; my eighteenth birthday was in a few months.

“Usually, I would ask for an 1D, but I think I can make an excpetion for such a beautiful girl like you,” he flirted and I tried not to barf. Creep!

I ignored his comment and left the shop, ripping the lid off the bottle and taking a big, long chug from it. The liquid burned down my throat, igniting my worries and making them crumble into nothing. I staggered to a park bench, crying out as I felt my heart rip apart. No matter how much I drank, smoke, or messed up my life, I could never change the fact that my boyfriend was dead.

James was gone, and he would never come back.

I glugged the last of the whisky and thew the glass away. It hit the frame of a swing set and shattered into a million pieces, reminding me of what my heart was doing. Shattering.

I tried to stand up and immediately my eyesight blurred, nausea making me stumble, and the pounding in my head unbearable. I felt my legs collapse underneath me, yet I had no energy or will power left to move myself. As unconciousness took over everything I knew, a single tear trickled down my cheek, the only other movement the rapid beating of my broken heart.

************************************************************************

If anyone else gives me a request within the next two weeks, I’ll keep them open, if not I’ll change them to closed.

Yuki xx