At Loss of Words

accident,

I woke up from a very uneasy and dreamless sleep. Did I just fall asleep a minute ago? I couldn't remember anything. At least, I didn't until I heard a voice.

"Tyler, are you awake?" The girl asked. In response, I hummed a simple "Mmhm." The girl sighed in relief. "Good." She said. I turned my head to her and saw a very familiar face. Lizzie Sadler, my ex-girlfriend. We stayed as friends though, since she also took a liking for another girl. When I mean also, I mean she found out I liked a guy one night, then confessed about her liking Britt, aka her room mate. I wasn't sad, disappointed nor angry. I'm glad we still talk, since we both share our problems now.

I noticed broken glass bottle shards on the floor. Since my dumb mind didn't want me to remember immediately, I was clueless on what happened. I asked Lizzie. "Luke left again." Oh, right, another argument with Luke. I start to wonder if this cycle of ours will ever stop. Probably not though, since this has gone on for months. "We noticed you were crying while coming back from the bakery." I raised an eyebrow and gave off a confused look before she continued. "When I say we, I mean Britt and I saw you. You were weeping in the middle of the night, so we stayed for a while." Lizzie let out a chuckle that almost sounded sad. Actually, considering it again, it was sad.

"Where's Britt?" I asked. "At our dormitory. She is baking some cookies for ya." Lizzie responded with a smile. "You know, I can cook for myself." I told her, starting to get off of the bed, before she pushed me back to sit down. "You're still dazing. It's really clear, y'know." She's right. I was still dizzy at the time. I wish I would've thought of what I said before actually saying it. Perhaps thats why I've lost Luke again. If I can keep my mouth shut then maybe nothing will go wrong next time.

A moment of silence prolonged as we both sat there, awkwardly. This discomfort continued on for a few more moments, and maybe even minutes. I hadn't kept any track of time, but at this time, I didn't think I would even need to know. Neither the two of us said a word until Brittney Wattson, Lizzie's crush and room mate, knocked on the door. "Britt! Come in!" Lizzie called, shaking away the uneasiness conjured a split second ago. "Butterscotch cookies are your favorite, correct?" The brunette asked, placing the tray of freshly baked cookies on top of the kitchen counter. I gave off a simple nod in response.

What amazes me about Britt is how she is so one-track minded. She always focuses on one thing when told to, and usually focuses on one thing without anyone asking at all. She sets up the table as if my dormitory were some fancy diner, which I appreciate. She sets the cookies in the middle of the table and pours in glasses of water in every glass, leaving the pitcher beside the decorative cookie tray and everything looking so well. Too well, actually. I don't even deserve an elegant diner-like table set up, considering my own dorm is a pathetic piece of garbage.

Lizzie and I watched in awe as Britt set up everything on the table. The spoons, forks, some table decorations like a flower, the glasses, plates, knives, you name it. Two minutes after, she completes the table, with it looking as beautiful as a fresh rose. I start to feel bad for Britt all of a sudden, realizing the fact that I would probably be the first one to stain the white table cloth, or spill a drink, or just move the cloth itself for fun.

We sat down properly on the table and started to munch on the cookies made by her. Lizzie purred in delight. "These cookies taste different," She started. "Oh, but the difference made it better!" She said after swallowing down hers. The cookies I ate? Probably just five to seven, I suppose. Lizzie ate fifteen in all.

I haven't told anything about myself, or the others. My name is Tyler. Tyler Williams. I'm twenty-seven years old in reality, but mentally eleven. I'm usually seen in a gray beenie, a sweater, jeans and white Adidas shoes. Next on the list, we have Lizzie Sadler, she's a blondie. Not a mean girl though. She's really understanding and sweet, and overprotective at times, especially when someone talks behind my (or Britt's) back during those years at Harvard. Lizzie wears a black tank top with a heart on it, over that is a gray blazer, shorts and Converse high cat shoes. Now we speak of Brittney Wattson, Lizzie's crush. As I've said before, she's a brunette. She has slightly visible freckles, and has pearl earrings on most of the time. "It's to keep my piercings there." She says. Britt wears a white long sleeved shirt with black stripes, jeans, and low cat, maroon Converse shoes. Britt is, like I've said before, one-track minded when she knows what's her priority. She is bubbly, but at times she can be cold as ice without warning. Reason why? She's bipolar.

As for Luke, let's not talk about him right now.

I drank up the fresh, cold milk that was poured into my glass. I tried my best not to finish it for me to have one last cookie dipped in. Britt and Lizz just watch me dip my cookie like a five year old, giggling away. I laugh as well. We shared stories and jokes until we all heard a knock.

"I'll get it." Britt said, walking towards the door. She noticed a letter that had been slipped under the door, and knelt down to get it. She stopped in her actions when she realized, "...The hospital?.." She asked quietly. Her voice was loud enough for both Lizzie and I to hear, and so I asked, "Wait, what?"

She picked it up and slowly strolled her way back to us, reading the address and everything on the envelope it was inserted in. Britt read it over before frowning towards the end. "Tyler, this is for you.." The girl said, handing it over to me with a long face. I scanned the letter before reaching to the end, and asking,

"Luke's in the hospital?"

Lizzie's expression turned from worried to shocked. Britt still had gloom upon her. I was speechless.
Everyone went silent until Britt asked us, "Should we visit him?" Lizz and I both nodded before finishing up our food and headed towards Britt's car.

While we walked through the hallway, I had many thoughts. "Why is he in the hospital?"
"Will he be okay?"
"Did he get into an accident?"

I opened the letter to look for the reason why he was in.
"Hit by...a...c..car..."
Right, he was drunk that night. Maybe I should hide his beer bottles, or get rid of the directions to The Adams Bar. That'll help out in our situation for sure.

Before I got to think of anything else, I bumped into Britt's red Santafe. We all got into our seats and started to move.

The last thing I thought?
"Don't worry Luke. We're on our way there, to you."

[fin.]

//word count: 1235 words
New recorddd!