His eyes blinked open in a slow motion, but they didn't have to readjust to the light that hard since it was already dark around him. Something pounded on his head, but years of sneaking behind his parents' back to get wasted had earned him a little control of his state of drunken consciousness.
Yes, his head hurt like hell. Yes, he could vomit all over his lap any second now. But was he aware of his surroundings? Hell, yes. He was aware of how cold the air was because the heater in the car wasn't turned on. He was aware of the song on the radio, sounding so distant since the volume was turned all the way down. He was aware of the road ahead staring back at him, and so he closed his eyes.
He gotta hand it to his man Xavier for throwing the best party of the year. Sure, he almost had a girl vomit all over him and a guy nearly pulled him into the freezing backyard pool, and maybe the DJ was too drunk to play a decent song to dance to with a random girl he could sneakily feel up, but he'd had a shitty day so this party was still the highlight of his week.
Thinking of his shitty day was making the monsters inside his brain pound even harder, so he tried to stop.
He sat up straight, thankful that he wasn't nauseous enough to actually throw up, and he rested his head with a little sigh. Another thing that he was thankful of was the way his little sister was driving smoothly, soâ
"Shit, Hannah." He groaned, taking back the compliment he was just about to blurt out when the car jolted violently. His stomach began to churn and he felt like the world was spinning.
"I told you I can't drive," she replied. "I told you."
He opened his eyes again and blinked several times until his vision got clearer, and what he saw was the distressed and exhausted face of his sister behind the wheels. "You're doing great."
"I'm not." She gulped, and it was then that he noticed that her hands were slightly shaking. She was panicking. She started to mumble to herself, "I should've woken her upâI can't do this, I'mâ"
"You're hurting my head."
"Shut up!" she snapped, and he was stunned.
And then he was angry. "Stop yelling at me, I told you my head isâ"
"Then you should've known better not to get drunk," she threw, her eyes focused on the road in front of her. Her hands were still shaking. "Why do you keep doing this? Why can't you be responsible for a second? Why am I even here oh my god oh my god." She wasn't even talking to him but she wouldn't stop, she kept going and going and going and his head was going to explode.
"So why did you come anyway?"
"You forced me to."
"I didn't."
"Your drunken ass did." Her voice lost its fierceness, now small and scared and he wanted to hug her and tell her that he wasn't mad, but something in the back of his mind kept telling him that he should be mad, mad mad mad at everything that was going on in his life, mad mad mad because he couldn't even call her his sister without lying to himself.
If only she knew, if only she knew, would she even be here driving his drunken ass home? "You could've just gone back to sleep."
"And leave you alone doing god knows what in that stupid party? I wouldn't even be able to go back to sleep. I was too worried." Her eyes never left the road for one second, even when she was talking to him. "God, Tony, why are you doing this to yourself?"
"Can you stop talking?" He wanted her to stop talking. He wanted her to stop pointing out his stupidityâit wasn't like he wasn't aware of it. He didn't need a lecture from herâhis ears had bled enough listening to his mom yap on and on about this and that and he was just so sick of the world that he wanted to get away.
God, how nice would it feel to break free from this all.
"Tell me this was the last one."
He stayed silent.
"Tell me," her voice broke, "that this was the last time anybody had to drag you out of an illegal party."
He couldn't.
She sounded like she was trying to hold in a cry. "Promise me that you'll never fight with mom and dad ever again."
Hell if he could promise that.
But then he saw his sister's knuckles going white on the steering wheel, and all he did was roll his eyes.
"You're unbelievable," she spoke thickly, as if it took so much for her to not be angry.
He didn't answer.
"Why are you doing this, Tony?" she asked again, her eyes ahead, away from him as if she was too ashamed of him to even take a glance. "Why are you wasting your life away with all this... skipping school and getting drunk and hanging out with those shitty people who can't evenâ"
"Don't talk about my friends like that," he cut her off. "They're not bad." They were the ones who could understand him, who could understand that sometimes in life you just need to throw your fist into a wall and watch it break down to the ground.
"They're dragging you down!" she cried. "They've turned you into this... this stranger that I'm supposed to call a brother." But she wasn't supposed to call him a brother at all. "You've changed so much and I don't even know who you are, and I'm so sick ofâ" she stopped herself to bite down her trembling lips, and his heart cried out for her but he was supposed to be heartless right now.
So all he did was challenge her. "Sick of me?"
She let out a shaky sigh and shook her head, her eyes still away from him.
And it was making him angry. Angry at his life. Angry at his family. Angry at himself for making his sister so upset. Angry at his sister for making him feel bad about himself even more and turning this night into a shitty night again and she wouldn't even look at him as if he was a disgusting piece of crap and if this girlâthis little girl who still cried when a thunder strikes and asked for the warmth of his armsâwas even disgusted at him, then what would everyone else think of him? "Look at me."
"I'm driving, I can't look at you."
He ignored her because his chest was beginning to burn in flames. "Look at me and tell me that you're not sick of me."
"I'm not sick of you but I'm driving right now, Tony." And where the hell were they anyway? She probably was getting the two of them lost. He should be the one driving right now but he was still so angry. "Just stop, okay? You've done enough for one night. I can't take it and I just wanna get us home before mom or dad wakes up and I'm just tiredâ"
"Fuck, Hannah!" he cut her off harshly and she nearly lost her grip on the steering wheel. "Why won't you look at me?"
"I'm driving! Shut up and just go pass out or something!"
She screamed in surprise when he grabbed her by her shoulders. "Look! At! Me!"
"Tony, what the hell are you doing?" she shrieked. "Get off me, I can't drive like this oh my god!" She tried to push him away but his hold was so strong and he could feel her heart pumping inside her chest but she still wouldn't look at him. "Are you trying to kill us both? Let go! Let go of meâ"
"What are you sick of? Tell me and look at meâ"
"Are you out of your mind?" she screamed at him, ignoring his pleas for her to just please look at him and tell him that he wasn't a piece of shit, tell him that she would still love him the same even when one day she found out that he wasn't even her brother, tell him that he wasn't sick of him because he'd had too many people sick of him already andâ
Her eyes suddenly widened and her mouth opened so wide and then he heard her voice piercing through the silent night and then he felt her handsâthose same little hands that reached out to him in fear when he broke his leg in seventh grade and she was so scared that he was going to die because of itâpushing his chest backwards and away from her and he felt the car swerving sharply to the left the same time his head violently hit the windowâ
And all that was left was eerie silence and pain.
-
The radio was playing an old song that he didn't recognize, but it sounded so good so he closed his eyes anyway.
He was in the middle of nowhere, and he would never admit it but he was scared. Scared of the monsters of the midnight, of what would crawl out of the trees surrounding his dad's car, but at the same time he needed this alone time and silence and freedom so much and he tried to enjoy it as much as he could.
Songs changed as the clock ticked by, and his thoughts slowly faded out into one another, and suddenly, there were just too many things going on in his mind. His anger, while still there gripping at his chest, slowly dissipated, leaving him with a tinge of guilt. Guilt for walking out of family dinner. Guilt for failing to fulfill his promise to sing to his sister to sleep. Guilt for wanting to hate his parents when he knew that none of them could help itânone of them could prevent the move anyway and he had no right to run off like this but he did and that was where he went wrong.
But did he really? Did he or did he not have the right to be mad? Of course he did, or at least he believed so. This was the, what, eleventh, twelfth move he'd hadâor maybe he'd lost count after all. Of course he had the right to be mad that he had to start his life all over again. Of course he had the right to turn his fear, this fear of slowly losing himself, to angerâburning hot uncontained anger that could set the whole world on fire.
But he didn't have to run off.
He began to count the sins he'd done tonight; yelled at his mother, slammed his door, stole his dad's car keys, drove illegally, forgot to sing his sister to sleep.
And now, where the fuck was he? He should've known better than to drive around a town he barely knew. What was he thinking?
His long arm reached out to shut down the radio. In the complete silence, the voices in his head only got louder, buzzing in and out and his hands covered each side of his head to block them all out. He wanted to go home. He should just go home right now and apologize to his father and beg on his knees for forgiveness from his mother and he'd hug his little sister Clara so tightly he would buy her a thousand different teddy bears to make up the promise he'd failed to fulfill.
But his hands shook too hard and the voices in his head were taunting him to drive even deeper into the darkness. So stupid, so stupid, so stupidâhe shouldn't have gone. He shouldn't have because he was so scared of the darkness and emptiness and the feeling of being alone and lonely and falling.
Sometimes you make a decision without thinking and it would leave you lying on the floor hoping that you could turn back time.
Light flashed right in front of him just as he was about to start his car, and everything happened so fast and blurry and then the world around him shook like an earthquake. The night, once dark and silent, suddenly was too blinding and too deafening and his heart was pounding against his chest as the voices in his head started to chant what have you done what have you done what have you doneâ
A car. An alarm. Smoke in the air. A scream.
He didn't do anything he didn't do anything he did everything.
He thought the earthquake was right under his feet, he thought he was slowly falling into the center of the earth, he thought he was dead but then he realized that the crash didn't hit him at all, and the tree just a few yards away from where his car was parked was the one shaking.
Could a tree be shaking? Or was his mind playing tricks on him?
His shaking hands were now slowly opening the door. He was scared, the most scared he had ever been. Did he just see what had happened before his eyes, or was he in a nightmare? But if so, why did it all feel so real? Why did his ears feel like they were bleeding out because of the loudannoyingshrieking sound of that repetitive car alarm? Could your ears bleed in your sleep?
Smoke cleared and he wished he hadn't seen what he had seen. A wrecked car. Shattered glass. More smoke. So much blood.
He wanted to vomit.
In hysteria, he turned around and ran, seeking refuge in his car, shaking his body back and forth and thought what did he just see are they dead he hated blood he wanted to go home. His breath caught in his throat and his heart was falling onto the floor and he was so scared beyond words.
He grabbed his phone and turned it on, and it began to ring continuouslyâoh shit his parents were so mad at himâand he waited a while for it to stop, still shaking and trying to calm down but do not tell him to calm down, he couldn't calm the fuck down he could not.
And then he dialed, "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" and words splattered out of his lips, blubbery and messy and what was he even saying? And then the call ended and he continued shaking his body back and forth, his eyes never leaving the broken car in front of him and he wanted to be thankful that it hadn't hit his car but how could he be thankful when there was so much fucking blood?
He shouldn't have gone. Shouldn't have been here. Shouldn't have seen what he had just seen. Shouldn't have heard what he had just heard. This would haunt him for the rest of his life and he started to bang his head on the steering wheel you stupid fuck you shouldn't have run off from the dinner.
But if he hadn't been here, who would? Who would have been here to call for help?
When he heard the sound of the siren coming closer, he started his dad's maroon truck. He didn't need to be here. He had seen too much. He didn't want to be here.
So he was gone, never to be back ever again.
-
The first thing he heard was the annoying sound of sirenâwas it ambulance? Or, oh fuck, was it police? Was he in trouble again?âand then there came the unbearable pain ripping his body into half.
Shit, shit, shit.
He could have sworn there was a big massive hole in his head, sucking the life out of him slowly but surely. He wanted to scream because of the pain, but he choked on his own blood instead and there were people coming to him and he was so confused and disoriented and so in pain.
Voices went from left to right but he didn't understand a word. He tried to pry his eyes open but it took so much energy so all he did was try to breathe and failed. There was some sort of a mask covering his mouth and nose and he felt air being forced into his lungs but he still couldn't breathe. His whole body was burning, on fire, in pain, and he wondered if this was better than being dead.
Why was he even here anyway? What in holy hell happened?
His skin was being touched by too many people and he wanted to scream at them to fuck off but he couldn't even do anything. He felt like he was being trapped in a lifeless body while his thoughts were screaming out, begging to break free. Break free, break free, break free, that was what all his life was about now.
The voices started to become clearer, and he strained his ears to listen.
"Eighteen year-old male, Caucasian," a female said, as if she was in a rush. "Found his license. Tony Taylors."
A male voice asked, "The girl?"
"I haven't found any ID on her."
"A relative of him?"
"Doesn't look too much alike to me, but who knows. How bad is he?"
"Bad." More air was forced into his lungs but he felt like choking. "But he'll pull through."
"Hopefully."
"The girl?"
A hesitation. He was confused. A girl? A girl who? What was the girl doing here? What was he doing here? "Still stuck in the car."
"Poor kid." There was sorrow in the man's voice. "Is she alive?"
"Barely." She sighed. "The door's jammedâright into the tree."
There was a sound of a loud thud and people yelling, "The girl's out!"
More yelling, and curiosity sparked a fight in him to open his eyes. One, two, threeâhow hard could it be to just slide his eyelids open? And with a grunt, they slid open.
What he saw first was the sky, dark and angry, and the stars, blinking at him like a thousand different eyes watching him, judging him from above. Then everything rushed back into his head in an angry flash and he wanted to scream, but he just gasped and then the man gently pushed down his chest.
"Take it easy, kid," he whispered to him. "You're in good hands, you're in good hands."
He wanted to scream, but what about her? Is she in good hands? What was happening to us? And the man mistook him from having some sort of an attack and he couldn't tell him that he just wanted to see his sister oh my god what had he done?
More voices shouting. "She's arresting! Get me a defibrillator!" And then people rushing about and he was still stuck, restrained, unable to get up to see her. The only part of his body that he could move was his headâand it hurt so bad to moveâbut still, he slowly turned his head to the left.
"We're losing her!"
His car stared back at him, no longer looking like a car. Instead it looked like some kind of junk, a distorted piece of metal having been punched by a wrecking ball. A strange noise escaped his throat and suddenly it was even harder for him to breathe.
What had he done, what had he done, what had he done?
"Hey, hey, breathe," the same man told him, but fuck, stop telling him what to do.
He shook his hurting head and turned to the right, and he wish he hadn't because what he had seen made him feel like he was the one being punched by that wrecking ball.
Small, frail, bloodied figure of a paper-white blonde haired little girl, lying on the ground lifelessly, with a man hovering above her pushing down her chest to pump her heart back into work.
No, no, no, no, no, this wasn't supposed to happen.
He struggled against the man who was restraining him, but he was too weak to break free.
Tell him this was just a dream.
The other man stopped pumping the girl's chest and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and a female next to him placed two paddles against the girl's bare chest.
"Clear!"
Her body arched and the whole world turned to dust right in front of his eyes.
author's note: pretty intense, huh? so this is the second bonus chapter. i wrote it a while ago but never completed it until last night. this is basically the chapter "he was gone" (chapter 50), in tony's and jonah's pov, and it's a bit different from chapter 50 since hannah didn't remember the seconds that led to the accident, but tony did (and the ones she really did remember, she actually remembered differently).
there will be more bonus chapters!!! i'm kinda scared to post the chapters tbh because we've already got a lot of chapters already and i don't wanna scare new readers into thinking that this story doesn't end... but whatever, i guess. hope you liked it anyway!