I'm in the hospital, the walls nearly covered in my art. I'm playing the guitar again, his favourite song.
Song, song of the South
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth
Gone, gone with the wind
Ain't nobody lookin' back again
I walk over to his bed. His tiny body hooked up to all those machines. I check all of them to make sure he's doing all right.
"You know Zed, I do this all for you. I know you can hear me. I remember when you used to paint with me and play the piano. Before mum and dad died. Before you turned into this. I hung your paintings first. They're right over your bed. I wish we could talk more about what happened. I wish you would wake up," I choke up on the last sentence before crying. I walk around the room staring at every picture. Pictures of the memories before the accident. It's all my fault.
-- 3 years earlier --
"Mum, why are we going to the cabin? It's cold and has no internet connection," I hold my phone up trying to get a signal. My mum sighs.
"We all need an escape from the city. It will give Zed some quiet time and it'll give you some time to work on that art project that you need to have done by the end of the semester," she says. I roll my eyes and watch my brother silently play with his toy cars in the seat behind her. He never really talks. He has autism, I can't stand having him stare right through me. I put on my headphones and start listening to my music as loud as possible.
"Amanda will you please turn that down, the roads are horrible and I need to drive," my dad says his voice stern. I ignore him and turn my music up louder. I hear him shout and turn around to take my phone. I hear my brother scream. I hear mum yell "Watch out". I see my brother's cars fly past my face speckled with blood. Everything goes quiet. Everything goes dark.
---
I feel the tears leaking out of my eyes as I set my guitar down and post a watercolour of after the accident. The only one that exists. It's what my body looked like in my perspective. I chose watercolour because everything was a blur. Doctors talking to me so fast I couldn't keep up. Telling me my parents were dead, my brother was in surgery. I was eighteen and my world came crashing around me.
I turn around and adjust my brother's sheets, put a car in his hand. I swear every time I give him one his hand moves. The doctors tell me it's not possible. Almost three years in a coma. A medically induced coma that he never came out of. I brush hair out of his face. My girlfriend, Skylar, walks in.
"You think he'll wake up?" she asks. I look back at her and nod with tears in my eyes.
"I know he will someday, and he'll wake up to all of this art. He'll love it." She grabs my waist and wipes the tears from my cheek. We walk out of the room together, the same way we've done every day for the past two years. Only this time something different happens.
Zed's vitals change. His eyes flutter open. Skylar looks back and yells for a nurse. I cry from happiness for the first time.
