Lets hope this is just a comma, not a full stop.

Let’s hope this is just a comma, not a full stop.

‘Ben!’ Amy yelled at me. ‘Beeennnn! Wake up!’ She shouted louder, in my ear this time. For someone so small, my sister could sure shout loud. I felt her give up on trying to wake me, and slouch down onto the chair next to my bed. I can’t remember what happened, so I’m going to go by the stuff I’ve been told by mum and dad.  My friends and I had an idea to go to a festival in Glanusk Park in the summer, as it wasn’t too far from Beaumaris, where we lived. I was fifteen; I finally wanted to do something proper on my own.

Dad and I made an agreement; to help contribute money towards the trip, he would pay me £5 an hour for any work or odd jobs I did for him. ‘Ben, I’ve thought of another job, you’ll like this one’ he said proudly. ‘The window outside your bedroom needs painting, but you’ve got to let it dry, and then reapply another coat.’

‘Any more jobs?’ I said, my voice dripped with sarcasm when he got out of earshot. Over the past week, he’d been writing a list of ‘easy’ things I could do. So far, there were thirty-six jobs.

I fetched the paint and propped the ladder against the side of the house, careful not to hit mums ‘sacred’ stone basin from her great-aunt Liza in the front garden. I wearily climbed the latter and pushed the paint pot on to the windowsill. As time went on, I began to like the satisfying ooze of paint dripping down the ledge and soon I was covered in it. The windowsill began to get smothered with paint and not far after, it was all dripping down the ladder in great clumps and landing on the patio. Fantastic. Mum was officially going to kill me.  The ladder slowly began slipping on the sea of paint on the patio. I worriedly held to the wall, but it was too late.

*

I woke up, with the soft feeling of my mum holding my hand. I knew it was her; she had the perfume, and the feeling of overly moisturised hands. I tried to lift my head. A dread suddenly ran through me from my toes to the top of my head when I realised I couldn’t. The fear pulsed after it. I was dead. Brain dead.  I heard a deep male voice ‘He’s just woken up. Mum leaned over me, and a waft of her expensive French perfume ran through the air. I got over the shock as I felt her tears dripping like rain on to my face as she kissed me on the cheek. ‘I’m so sorry Ben’ she sobbed. ‘I’m sorry this ruined your trip, sorry this happened at the wrong time.  Sorry that you’re here.’ I heard heavy footsteps across the floor, and knew this was the man with the ridiculously deep voice. I automatically nicknamed him Deppo, on account of his voice. I wondered what happen. It was too unnatural for it to be that deep surely? She let go of my hand and heard Deepo say to her quietly ‘I’m sorry, but visiting times are now over, but I’ll explain to Benedict what’s happened and why he’s here with us.’

Benedict? No one had ever called me that, but great aunt Liza had insisted that mum’s first born son was called Benedict, after her own son, who died when he was three months old. My mother hated the name, but went through with it, and everyone quickly renamed me Ben thank god.

‘Okay’ I heard her with sadness echoing in her voice. ‘I love you so much Ben, we all do. We’re missing you so much and nothings the same. Wake up, wake up soon darling.’ Her footsteps retreated from my bed and out of the room, shutting the door quietly.

 ‘Well,’ Deppo started, ‘My name’s Dr Haddingsly, and I’m terribly sorry to say there was an accident.’ He paused and pulled up a chair next to my bed, and said ‘You were on a ladder, and it slipped. You hit your head rather hard I’m afraid, on a stone basin in your garden. Jim hea- I mean your dad heard the fall and immediately rushed over. It’s lucky he did, because otherwise we might not have you here today.’ He chuckled and I immediately decided I didn’t like him. Not one little bit. With having my movement, eyesight, and speech taken rather rudely away from me, I felt like commenting that I hardly there anyway. ‘You suffered brain damage, when your head hit the stone on the basin, and then the patio. You had a very nasty fall. You’ve been in Bryn Y Neuadd Hospital, in Llanfairfechan for just under a week now. We have brought down the swelling, and you’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness, but due to the swelling, you might not be able to remember. You’ve been asleep for quite some time Mr Wildings.’ He talked on and on, and to be honest, you could tell he was one of those big headed people, who loved the sound of their voice,  and thought everyone loved hearing it, just as much as him.