The Ways in Which I Die (COMPLETED)

CHAPTER 9: "WHY DO I DESERVE TO BE HAPPY?"

ANTHONY

Anthony wakes up to blurry images around him and his head pounding in his skull, there’s a hushed beeping sound somewhere beyond his right ear that makes the throbbing in his head much worse. There’s a gentle hand clinging onto his that feels like James.

“James?” Anthony moans softly, blinking his eyes a few times to clear the blurs around him, so he can clearly see the hospital room around him. “What happened?”

“You-”

“You almost wasted everything you ungrateful piece of shit.” 

Anthony flinches at the harsh tone in his father’s voice.

“Ward, nows really not the time for-”

“No. He is my son,” Ward barks cutting James off. “We’ll have this conversation right now if I want to have it right now.”

Anthony sneaks a glance in his father’s direction. The man is so how so much more terrifying now than he ever was with a belt in his hand.

“No you won’t,” James challenges and knocks the chair over as he stands up. Anthony wonders if he’s about to watch his father and his best friend physically fight. “It’s not his fault Maria died. It’s time for you to stop hanging him out to dry for that. Her death was an accident!”

“Yeah! And he got to live because of it! He shouldn’t be the one who’s still alive!” Ward shouts. “And you got to witness first hand how he showed her gratitude!”

“No!” James shouts and takes a dangerous step toward Anthony’s father.

“James, it’s-” Anthony starts but James whirls around to face him, fire burning in his eyes and silences Anthony.

“Don’t you dare say this is okay,” James says sternly. “Nothing about this is okay. A liter and a half your blood is at home in my bathtub, your father is blaming you for something you had no control over, and you just woke up from attempting suicide. Nothing about this is okay .”

Anthony flinches and decides not to say anything else.

“And for the record Ward,” James continues spinning back around to face Anthony’s fuming father. “What I saw first hand was not Anthony being ungrateful for his second chance, what I saw was a man driven to the absolute brink by his father who claims to love him. You did this to him. You told him he should be dead so many times you made him believe it you shitty bastard.”

“What di-”

“Get out!” James roars. “I’m not going to let you convince him to do this again.”

Ward opens his mouth to protest but James takes a menacing step forward and the man backs toward the door.

“This doesn’t change what happened! This doesn’t change that it’s his fault!”

 ~~~~~

SUMMER

“Summer?” Anthony’s soft drifts down the hallway to Summer as she heads to the bathroom.

“Yeah, what do you need?” she asks poking her head into the dark room.

“Why do I deserve to be happy?”

“What?” She opens the door all the way and slips into the bedroom.

“You said you think I deserve to be happy,” Anthony says quietly. “Why?”

Summer’s heart does an unhappy twist in her chest as he asks his question. There’s an air of innocence to the question along with genuine curiosity that makes Summer want to hold him and never let go, protect him from all the pain.

“Do you mind if I sit down next to you on the bed?” Summer asks approaching.

“No,” Anthony says tiredly and scoots himself in the bed. 

Summer scoots in next to him as he wiggles himself into a sitting position.

“You’re a good person,” Summer says looking him in the eyes.

“What?”

“You asked me why I think you deserve to be happy,” Summer explains. “You’re a good person. You turned your back on your family business to help a mear assistant find justice for the abuse she’d faced from her boss, you offered to go with a complete stranger to the cemetery so she wouldn’t be alone, you helped me learn to be happy where I work. You care about others, Anthony. You offer everyone your joy and love, and I think some should be given back. Not to mention I really like you.”

Anthony just looks confused. “But I shouldn’t even be alive.”

“Obviously you should,” Summer says softly and slides her hand into his. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“But I should have died,” Anthony insists. “The reason I’m still here- it- it never should have happened.”

“Anthony, I don’t know what happened, but this,” she gently brushes the long scar running up the inside of his forearm, “this doesn’t define you. Okay? This scar isn’t who you are.”

“No,” he says quietly. “I should have died long before I slit my wrist.”

Summer’s breath catches in her throat as he says this. She’d known that the scar on his wrist was something he’d done to himself, but him saying it out loud still hits her like a kick in the gut.