It only takes 10 seconds

Part Sixty

Joy's POV

I snuggle closer into Brent, his arms nestled around me under the blanket. His breathing is low and soft, tickling the top of my head, and I can tell that he's fallen asleep. I reach over and quietly grab the remote, switching it off and throwing it to the side. As I cuddle up against Brent, I feel warm and safe, like I'm meant to be here. 

I can feel myself falling asleep and as I sleep, I start dreaming. At first, it's sweet and everything is happy. I'm back at home, little again with my older brother Christian and we're playing hockey out on our pond. Christian passes me the puck and I take it, weaving past my dad and scoring in the goal. I celly and Christian hugs me, making me squeal with happiness. Since the Hawks are our favorite team, Christian and I sing Chelsea Dagger as our mom videotapes us from the side of the pond.

After our celebration, Christian starts skating away. "Where are you going?" I ask, worry in my voice. "Don't worry, Joy. I'll be right back," he says and he keeps skating away. I can hear the ice cracking below him and everything seems frozen. "Christian," I call out, but he doesn't seem to hear me. "Christian, don't move!" I yell, my lungs at full force, but he keeps going and the ice collapses under his weight. I watch as he's sucked under.

"Mom, Dad!" I scream, turning around to alert them that Christian is in the frigid water, but they're not there. Everything around me is going black, and I can't find Christian, but I know he's in that water, turning, tossing, drowning. And I can't help him because I can't move, can't do anything but scream his name over and over again.  

I wake up, my heart beating fast in my chest, tears running down my face. "Joy, what's wrong?" Brent asks, his face wrinkled with concern, his hand reaching up to brush a tear from my face. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I can't breathe at the rememberence of Christian. He really did die from being pulled under the water, but not like in my dream. He went out to practice one morning before we were up and the ice cracked and pulled him up. I woke up looking for him, only to see my mom in tears talking to the police who had pulled his body from the water, pale and bloated like something you see only in a cop show. 

That image has haunted me since I was five, when Christian died. I burst into more tears and Brent reaches over hugging me as tight as he can. "Joy, I don't know what's wrong, but I'm here for you ok?" "Don't let him die, please..." I whisper and Brent hugs me closer. "No one is going to die right now. No one." "Christian please don't die," I whisper and I sob into his shirt, my sight blinded by the streams of water flowing from my eyes. Tears cold like the water that drowned Christian. I could have saved him, should have saved him, should have stopped him from going out there that morning. But I didn't. And I never can. 

Andrew's POV (listen to the song when reading)

I feel like I'm being dragged further and further into a current in the ocean that will eventually drown me, taking everything I love with it and stopping at no mercy. How much more do I have to go through, watching the people that I love dying in front of me, being unable to save them. No one understands how much it hurts to lose Becca and Nick in the same week, to live alone in my apartment, the clock ticking late at night and accompanying my breathing. Everyone must think I'm stupid Andrew, Andrew who doesn't know what he's doing in his life, Andrew who picks dumb relationships to start, Andrew who shouldn't even be in the NHL. 

I get up and wander to the bathroom, my cell phone in hand. It's high time that I do this, everyone has probably been waiting for it. I turn the light on, the brightness stinging my eyes at first, but then dimming as I adjust to it. My hand fumbles in the cabinet for the familiar orange container. I've been saving these, waiting if I needed them. I stumble to the kitchen and grab a glass from the kitchen. The little fridge opens with a whoosh as I reach and grab a bottle of whiskey from it. Strong and bitter, just like my life right now. Just what I need.

I pour a glass and gulp it down, my throat crying out in agony and my stomach doing a little loop-de-loop as it adjusts to my new friend. The tears fall down my face as I pour a second glass, and drink it, my head suddenly banging in protest of the rush. I look at my phone and dial Jonny's number. It's late, but maybe he'll pick up. I listen to it ring, my eyes closing and my head rolling around like a rag-doll. 

He picks up on the third ring. "Andrew, it's one in the morning. What do you need?" "Hi Jonnnny," I slur, my voice happy with the alcohol that reeks on my breath. "Are you drunk?" he asks. "I just want to say good luck in the season," I tell him. "I had a good time with you guys." "What are you talking about Shaw?" he asks. "You really need to lay off the alcohol buddy." "I'm going on a trip," I tell him. "To where?" he laughs. "We're in the middle of playoffs if you haven't realized."

"I'm going to see Nick," I tell him as I unscrew the pill container and shake a couple into my hand. The red and yellow tempts me, asking to be swallowed. "Andrew, what are you talking about?" Jonathan asks, his voice now worried. "Nick needs me more than anyone here does," I say. "Becca needs me more than you do." I start crying as I swallow the pills, but I smile through the tears knowing the end will be worth it all. "Andrew Shaw, what the hell is going on?" He's angry now. "Don't be angry Jonny, it's better this way," I say with a little smile on my face. I sink down to the ground and wait for the pills to do their job.

One last night and I'll be done with all this. No more worrying, just me and Nick and Becca, happy for once in our lives. "Tell the team thanks," I tell him. "Thanks for the memories." My eyes and head start feeling heavy and I lie down on the ground, smiling lazily as Jonathan screams into my phone. He's frantic, but I know he won't get here in time. It's the perfect plan, the perfect end. Goodnight, sleep tight. Andrew Shaw is leaving tonight. 

~Please don't go to sleep Andrew. Please. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. ~