The accident happened so fast. So fast that if you closed your eyes, even just for a second, you’d missed what caused it. What I did to cause it. I hadn’t meant to cause it in the first place. If I didn’t focus everything went wrong. Horribly wrong. And in this case, two people died because of me. Yet again. Father said I should learn to control the ‘gifts’ that I was given. But gifts didn’t even begin to describe how much I’m not grateful for them.
Staring at the remaining glass that shimmered against the black topped streets, my hands clenched into fists. I caused so much pain in people’s eyes. In her eyes. That was the worst part of it. Causing so much despair in a beautiful girl’s eyes. I remember her green eyes that stared back into mine. The darkest shade of brown hair that fell over her eyes as she cried. But most of all, I remember her trembling hands. The pain in her eyes. For something she didn’t even cause. So I did the most that I could. I comforted her.
That’s all I had planned to do. I only planned to comfort her there and then leave. But I ended up staying with her almost all night. Eventually she wanted to go home and I reluctantly let her go. Letting her go was something I hated to do. Even though I barely knew her, but there was something about her that caused my heart to ache. To hold her even longer than I had. But I never got what I wanted, even half the time.
“Rylan, wake up. Now.” My father’s voice demanded that I wake up, so I did. I winced as the light from the hallway burned into my eyes.
“Yes, Father?” I asked politely, as I always should. Other people would call their father's dad, but me? I wasn't allowed to. It was too casual, too lax. Everything was too formal. Too not normal.
“Did you cause this?” He demanded and threw the newspaper onto my bed. Reluctantly, I brought it to my line of vision. I winced as I read what my father was talking about. “Did you?” He growled, and I fought not to wince back.
“Yes.” I muttered, handing him the newspaper. Newspapers were good for some people. To keep up with things. But for me it highlighted every wrong doing I ever caused. Showed everyone how screwed up I really was. “I-I just wasn’t focusing when I should have been. I’m just a screw up.” If I looked for just a second, you could see his eyes soften then harden just as quickly.
“That’s what you always say, Rylan. If your mother was here we wouldn’t have this problem now would we?” My father’s brown hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it away quickly. The pure white hair that I had was different from my mother’s or father’s. They never worried about it, but I did. Deep down I knew something wasn’t right. For now it would stay that way.
My mother was someone I looked up to most of the time. She was the one I went to when I was worried. Scared. Like any mom would, but she understood what my father didn’t. The struggle to overcome something you couldn’t even control. But then she disappeared. Out of my life. Our lives. Yet it was always my fault.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t.” I could do nothing more than just agree with him. In reality, I really think it was him she couldn’t stand. Not me. “I’m just going to bed. Do you mind?”
“Focus more, got it, Son? You have practice with Malachi at six in the morning. Don’t be late. You can’t afford to be.” And without waiting for my reply, he simply slammed the door with a grumble and a sigh. Screw, him. I muttered.
Focusing on sleeping, I forced myself to close my eyes once more. The high octaves of the opera music playing in my father’s room lulled me into a nightmare that I would never, ever be able to stop from playing in the back of my head with a constant thrumming.
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“Baby, I need you to stop. Just stop.” My mother’s chestnut hair smelled of jasmine and wild flowers. The smell waded through my nose as I buried my head in the crook of her shoulder. The tears wouldn’t stop falling, soaking her shirt. I gasped, choking on the tears.
“I c-can’t, Mommy.” I clutched at her waist, never letting go. The people who wanted her were going to take her and I couldn’t do anything to stop them. “Y-You can’t leave. You can’t!” I hit her in the chest repeatedly until she got the point and her own tears starting falling.
“Shh, they won’t.” She pulled me into her arms and rocked slowly back and forth until the tears stopped falling and the hiccuping stopped gasping. “I love you. So much, Rylan.” She whispered over and over.
The door thudded open with a slam and a group of men dressed in black barged in. Ready to do what they had to do. I screamed when they came for my mother. Closing my eyes, I couldn’t bare to see her be taken away, I screamed again. My mom kicked and reached out for me.
“Take care of that boy,” one of the men growled and put a cloth over my mother’s mouth. Her eyes fell closed almost immediately and she was gone. I brought my attention back to the man that was supposed to ‘take care of me’. My back hit the wall and the man closed in further.
“It’s okay. Just hide under the bed. Do as I tell you, please.” He begged, but I only shook my head. I looked deep into his eyes and saw just something I saw in my mothers. Trust. Caring even. Soon as I thought it, my head bobbed into a nod.
The bed was huge and was always my hiding spot, so I reached under easily. The dust bunnies tickled my nose as I lay my head flat against the floor. The footsteps receded, and the last thing I heard were my mother’s screams.
----
I gasped, reaching out of my bed. My dreams were never the truth. They were always fictional, no matter how much they seemed real. Like memories. The smell of her shampoo still lasted on my tongue. Like something you couldn’t get rid of. No matter how much you tried. Giving up on sleeping, I make my way towards her work room and sigh as the smell of old paint lingered in the air. Sometimes all you needed for control and focus were the little things. The memories of someone you once knew and loved so dearly.
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I would love your guy's opinions on this piece I wrote. It's apart of this book that I'm writing. I haven't gotten my idea down completely, but I know what I want it to be about. Anyways, please critique! Thanks
