The Masks That Hide Us

The Worst Week

Everything went wrong that one week after the crash.

You can still hear it in your head.

She was laughing about something you had shown her, and wasn't watching where she was driving. She was so young. She didn't see the tree in the road until it was too late. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. The tires hit the trunk, the back wheels came up, and she went out the window. Her slender, feminine figure didn't allow the seat belt to hold her in place. You, however, were held back and knocked out by the airbag.

You awoke in the hospital. It was cold, and everything was white. The blinds were closed, so the only sunlight that came through was where the little slits were. Perhaps a stranger found you two? You try to call out to the nurse who's changing the saline bag beside you, but your throat hurts. Actually, it burns. She looked over to see you struggling and went to get the doctor. You heard her yell "John Doe is awake!" You recognized this as the name they give patients when they don't know their names. But you're not John.

You are Jake English, 21 years old, formerly of London, England.

The doctor walks over and the nurse helps you sit up. He explains in the vaguest detail how your sister, beyond their best efforts, had died, and that a stranger found the car and called it in. You feel something you hadn't felt in awhile. You feel grief, but among that, guilt and anger.
You blame yourself for this... You just had to show her that funny looking tree didn't you? This goes on for hours, and after awhile, you feel tears start to run down your cheeks. But usually those tears come with sorrow or joy, all you feel is emptyness. She was the last thing that you had, the last remnant of your family, and she was gone.

Your little sister was gone because of you. Because of that damned funny-looking tree.

You thought about how she had a crush on that grumpy boy from school, how she never got to expierience her first kiss, even at 16. How she always wore that shirt you got her, the one with the atom on it. Her silly drawings, her garden full of pumpkins and other vegetables. You thought seriously about setting the house on fire.

You spent a month in that hospital, and after lots of therapy (that you ignored since that woman didn't see you as human), the doctor deemed you sane and healed enough to leave. You still felt that pang of guilt. You wonder what would've happened if she took the other road. After all, it was just a drive. It was a beautiful day, and this makes you feel as if something bad would happen on every beautiful day. Today it is drab, cloudy and windy. Jade would've looked up and said "Time for rain!" And then sung her little rain song.

You sung it to yourself while the taxi driver brought you to your house. It looked dull to you, despite the neon green and accents of blue. You walked into the house and looked around. This quiet country house just didn't feel like home anymore. It was too quiet, boring, and nothing ever happened here.

You decided to sell everything. Well mostly everything. You kept only a suitcase full of clothes and a few pictures of you and Jade out on adventures. Some of your friends came to ask you if you were alright, and you told them your plan to move to Atlantic City, in New Jersey. You showed them the ticket you bought for the train, and they said how they'd miss you, but they were happy you decided to do something. Part of you thought they'd be happy no matter what you decided to do.

After selling most of your stuff and your house, you donated the rest to the thrift shop in town. You felt... Happy... For the first time since the crash. You waited at the stop for the train, and adjusted your narrow glasses. The whistle of the train made you jump, and you looked out upon the little town. You'd miss this town. And the people in it.

As you were boarding, you saw a blond girl reading a big black book. You decided to sit with her, and introduce yourself.
"Hello, miss." You said holding a hand out. She smiled and shook your hand. In your usual British tang you stated "The name's Jake. Jake English." Her unusual lilac eyes met yours. "I'm Rose Lalonde. Do you mind me asking where you intend on going?" You kept your smile. "Atlantic City. I just had to get out of that town."
You made small talk with her, excitedly talking about all the places you've been.

Two hours of talking led to very tiresome new friends. You found out that she had a sister in Atlantic City, and was going to see her. You told her what had happened, and she sympathized. She even asked if you'd like to stay with them for awhile, and she gave you her phone number in case of emergencies. You got the idea that she leaned more towards females, based on the way she talked about a girl named Kanaya.
You were about to fall asleep when she shook your arm and pointed outside, saying "Look Jake, look! We're here!", smiling ear-to-ear. You looked out the window to see the ocean, so beautiful and blue, and the huge buildings. Skyscrapers. Your eyes widened in wonder, and you lit up.
"Yes, we are."

Your name is Jake English, and this was going to be the beginning of a new life.

[~] This story is dedicated to my friend Haley and joyful_trash who got really hyped when i told them about it. Next chapter will be out soon, questions and comments encouraged! Also please tell me if i made any grammatical or general mistakes [~]