Blue Plaid

Paralysis

In which Stella feels entirely numb.

//

This is all just a nightmare.

That was the recurring thought in my mind. Because I was absolutely refusing to believe the words the police officer was currently saying.

He was an older man with a balding head and quite an impressive gray moustache, but my mind was too hazy to entirely appreciate it.

They didn't make it.

Those were the words he used. Georgia and Eric were on their way to a bed and breakfast in the country and their car was hit by an oncoming semi-truck and the doctors did everything they could, but they didn't make it.

Both their parents had long since passed away and neither had siblings, so Tyson and I were listed as their emergency contacts.

While I stood absolutely frozen with shock, Tyson was handling this life altering shift in the universe remarkably well. He actually looked as though he was somewhat paying attention as the police officer offered his condolences and told us to take a seat as they worked some things out.

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I barely registered the touch of Tyson's hand as he pressed it into my upper back and guided me towards the uncomfortable looking plastic chairs lined up against the wall.

Lowering myself slowly to the seat, I leaned forward, clasping my fingers together and staring at the floor.

"It'll be alright you know," he whispered from beside me.

For the life me I couldn't understand how he was holding it all in. "How are you so calm? They're dead, Tyson. Two people we loved are dead and you're sitting there like nothing happened."

His lips parted in disbelief, his eyes flashing with anger, which was the first emotion I'd seen him express since we'd arrived. "For fuck's sake, Stella, do you really think that little of me? Of course I'm upset. Actually, it's taking every ounce of my willpower not to curl into a fetal position and sob hysterically on the floor, but one of us has to keep it together."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I scoffed. "I'm sorry that I'm upset about the fact that my best friend is no longer alive."

"They were my friends too."

The words were so quiet that I almost didn't hear them, but as soon as they registered, I felt instantly guilty. His eyes were sad, but his expression hard and I sighed softly, my eyes squinting in apology.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my tone sincere this time, "You're right. That was insensitive of me."

"It's alright," he replied, clearing his throat.

I wanted to say something else, but my mind was utterly blank, so I shot him a sympathetic glance and turned my attention back to the floor, counting the specks in the tile until the police officer returned.

This time, he was accompanied by a petite woman. She looked to be in her thirties with extremely light blonde hair that was pulled back into a neat bun. Dressed in a black pantsuit and carrying a few files and a clipboard in the crook of her arm, she stretched her lips into a closed smile.

"Hello," she said softly.

The police officer stepped in to explain. "This is Marie Hanley. She's a social worker."

My brow pulled into a confused furrow. "Social worker? Why do we need to talk to a social worker?"

As soon as the words left my lips, I realized there was something, or rather someone, both Tyson and I had forgotten about entirely.