How to Smile (On Hold, Will Be Rewritten)

Questions Without Answers

Questions Without Answers

I had been running for who knows how long, and I was still running. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, the wind slapping me. This was now happening. Not for a second time.

My mom was probably wondering where I was, when was I coming back. Maybe I should have turned around. No. I was not going back to that hospital, to see that heart breaking, gut wrenching sight. For a second time.

Why?

That is all I could ask myself. Why now? Why him? Why couldn't the driver hit his breaks fast enough? Why had that stupid mutt run into the middle of the street after a dumb squirrel? Why did he have to die on me? So soon after Andrew, too.

Andrew. I still miss him so much, I couldn't have had a better brother. Just remembering him brought another crushing wave of tears.

Uriah had looked so much like him in that moment. Vulnerable and in unimaginable pain. His eyes had the all too familiar glazed looked I had seen before, and I could see him trying so desperately to focus, to hold on the ebbing life he had. He had tried to tell me something, as weak as he had been. His signature smile had tugged at his lips before he inhaled for the very last time.

I need to figure out what he had said.

I squeezed my eyes closed, as if this was a nightmare and I would be awake soon, in my nice warm bed, the smell of breakfast wafting to my room from downstairs, Logan curled by my feet with her ears twitching occasionally.

But this wasn't a dream. It was bitter cold reality. I knew this through the sound of my shoes hitting the uneven sidewalk, the cold rain smacking me in the face, and the dark sky far above me.

Have you ever heard the sound of a hospital bed going off? The long monotonous beeeeeeeeep that you hear in movies? That sound makes you hold your breath without realizing it and freeze on the spot. The next thing you know doctors with serious faces are herding you out the room and everyone in support of the patient either panics or gets emotional or they stand there as if in another world.

The worst part is when the adults begin to cry. I don't know what it is, but seeing the very people who give you the courage to be strong cry does some damage on you. It's like you are now forced to face the fact that yes, this. Is. It. No alternative exist. Nothing can stop what is happening, and finally, you have no power to change it. And before you know it, one of those same doctors is now telling you 'I'm so sorry, but he didn't make it.' Why not? Why do they have to leave?

I should have really been going back to the hospital or to my house now. I knew very well that this little town of ours wasn't the greatest, and I was putting myself in danger by being out here alone in this weather. Instead, I ran to the park. I guess you could say it was my happy place, as cheesy as it sounds.

The wind and rain rattled the trees and made it hard to see, but I was able to make it to the center of the park and slid my back down the large leaf filled tree that stood protectively over the area. Sitting down on the soaked grass and dirt I almost felt safe, like that tree was also protecting me, wrapping me in a shield that blocked the icy drops of cold and acted as a canopy to keep me dry.

I shivered. I don't know why, but I began to laugh. This was insane, completely and entirely insane. At the same time, a random thought came to me: Coach Beverly would have been so proud of me, running all the way here at full speed without stopping. This sprinter made a good long distance runner so it seemed.

Getting a grip on myself, I took a deep breath and sighed. Track wouldn't be the same. School wouldn't be the same. Heck, my neighborhood wouldn't be the same. Uriah wouldn't be in any of it.

He was so sweet. So goofy, sincere, and caring. I could see his too big smile in my mind. Perfectly white teeth with a teensy, almost unnoticeable gap between his two front teeth, and adorable dimples. I could see his eyes, so bright. They had been two different colors, the left one brown and the right one blue. I could see him so clearly.

I was doing the exact same thing I had done when Andrew died. Preserving every little detail about the person, wanting to make sure I don't forget anything. Heck, I had done the same thing when my old cat, Spiderwick, had died due to a brain tumor. I'm no good at moving forwards. Why is loss so hard?!

How long had I sat there? Must've been a long time because eventually my dad was there, picking me up like I was a little kid again. I felt so pitiful and alone. Going through the relentless rain, I saw my mom sitting in the car, parked by the curb. Lightning flashed.

My eyes stung and were puffy. They were heavy. Boy, was I tired. On the drive home, I fell asleep, right after having one last thought. What now?

I had all these questions and more. Every single one of them without answers.