COMA | ziam

13: Are You There?

I couldn't bring up that night. I couldn't look at it. Dream about it. It was an impending nightmare, filled with innocent people being hurt. Elliot was a child, a beautiful little boy with a heart so golden and eyes filled with sweetness. That night, where it was Perrie, Harry and I sitting in the living room, my shirt soaked with a child's tears and a face buried in my shoulder, falling into deep exhaustion. On the couch, the three of us are sitting there as Elliot sleeps in the crook on my neck. The pictures across the walls that haunts all of us into silence. Of their small family and a time where they were smiling, together. We were all out of a depth, no words in our throats to say. There was nothing we could do.

I can't think of that night. When Elliot's pleads to sleep next to me, to have Harry next to him as well. The awful sound of terror in the little boy's voice from the thought of being alone. The way Harry and I spent that whole night with Elliot in-between us in such a large bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling just as scared. The amount of times we all cried silently. It wasn't okay, Elliot was a boy. He shouldn't feel these things.

But it seemed like Elliot was accustomed to it. This wasn't the first time the little boy has felt alone.

And he shouldn't pretend to be okay. When he wakes up, he is shy and so tiny, looking smaller than ever, but he doesn't cry. He is pretending to be okay for Harry and I, following around my every step and never allowing himself to be alone. He isn't talking much, as he usually does, but he is marching forward, filled with strength that nobody could possess. Even when he gets really afraid and yells out my name when he catches himself in a room by himself, he doesn't let himself shed a tear. He clutches my hand and I hold him close. Trying not to show myself in a distressed light but I know I fail at it.

Harry had left earlier on that awful morning, kissing and hugging Elliot and telling the little boy he'd be back later on today. I watched the way his small hand gripped at his shirt, before he had to go. Harry had brought the car back to the garage and worked all day, his world never stopping. But ours did.

Every next day was as hard as the last.

The hospital had called and emailed me everyday, keeping me in the loop. They told me that I could come back to have a check up in a couple of hours a week later from the accident and it shouldn't of put me in a situation where I was quietly steadying myself to breathe. I couldn't do that now, not when Elliot needed me.

"Let's go on a walk, El." I say early in the afternoon and he was watching TV, his leg restlessly moving, nervously. He turns to look at me, our hands still together, nodding slowly.

I tie his shoes up and wrap him up in a coat, putting one of my worn out beanies and scarfs on him. As I do these things, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. And the image scares me, it's dark and desolate, someone who looked unstable. My eyes are black and my face looked swollen and tired.

The paparazzi must of backed off, or they were crowding around the hospital somewhere, because Elliot and I didn't have a problem making it outside, stepping out in the bitter winter. There was a calm breeze, sailing through the pretty streets of Knotting Hill. There's pinks and greens muddling into haze of colors and there's a fog over Elliot and I's heads, a depression in our eyes. I hold his hand, making sure it tells him I'll never let go, watching him walk quietly, staring at the blue sky beginning to turn amber. There's a glaze to the boy's eyes and the clouds reflect off of his golden gaze. He is deep in his thoughts, fingers gripping at mine. We make it across the street, not much said, until we see a park that was wet and dewy, children giggling and chasing each other and a red park bench in the middle of the iridescent meadow. It's glowing in the middle of the bustling neighborhood, the wild flowers that sway in the wind and the dancing trees swooping into shadows. I wonder what Liam would think, if he was here and staring at this park. I hope he feels the beauty radiating off of the clouds, I hope he sees it wherever he is, I hope it makes him want to wake up.