- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:

wow, Nick really caused the shit to hit the fan now, oh dear...

enjoy

  1. Always An Eternity Away

After slamming the door shut, he let himself fall on the bed and heaved a long sigh. His shoulder was throbbing and he frowned, massaging the sore spot gently. Even after two weeks, he was barely able to use his left arm. The past week had seemed to never end and for the first time since he’d got there, he wanted to go home. He turned on his stomach and grabbed his pillow, smiling contently when he finally found himself able to close his eyes and dose off.  The day had been exhausting and unrewarded. He felt completely drained and it wasn’t even dinnertime yet. A dark cloud of heavy depression had accumulated over the big house on the rocky road in the last six days and everybody seemed on edge. While Leighanne and Harold took care of Brian, Nick was left to do everything else. He’d been driving Baylee to school and back, he’d been picking up groceries, he’d even been cooking dinner, though Leighanne wasn’t too happy about his bakings. He’d been buying a crap load of medicine and he’d been giving that medicine to the designated person.

Fuckin’ holy Jesus!

Shooting upright he dared a suspicious glance at the clock and widened his eyes. Growling with frustration, he jumped out of his bed like he’d been launched off. Running down the stairs he skidded to a halt when he reached the kitchen. He swung open the medicine cabinet, cursing himself over and over again. By now he knew exactly what kind of medication Brian needed and when. He knew how to prepare it too and grabbed the stuff he needed quickly in a panicked motion. This couldn’t be happening, not today! Not when Harold and Leighanne were out to talk to the doctor and Nick was left with the huge responsibility of Brian’s care. The doctor had come by earlier that day and after he’d examined the patient, he’d persuaded the wife and the brother to come down to his office to talk about future plans. Baylee had locked himself in his room and Nick hadn’t seen the kid all day. He remembered Leighanne’s words very well. Don’t be late. He’d scoffed, cause he’d never been late before. Well, he was definitely late now. He just prayed that he wasn’t too late.

 

May 2014

“Nick?”

He tensed up, but didn’t turn around. He just kept staring into the distance, hoping his friend wasn’t able to see the tears sliding down his cheeks. He felt Brian kneeling next to him and noticed him finally coming to sit next to him on the floor of the hallway, against the wall. There was a long silence, deafening in its importance.

“Nick, you okay?” he heard his brother ask and finally he scoffed.

“You’re asking me?” Nick replied hatefully and noticed Brian wincing from the harshness, the betrayal in his voice.

“Look, I know I should have told you guys sooner…” Brian said and trailed off.

“Oh, do you now? Well, good for you!” he yelled suddenly and watched contently as Brian shrunk back.

“I just…” Brian began and grimaced, looking away.

“What? You just didn’t realize we were worried about you? Aren’t we supposed to be your friends? Aren’t we supposed to know when something like this is happening? Are you just too stubborn to let anyone help you?” Nick cried and Brian hesitantly placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry Nick, I’m sorry…”

 

November 2015

“I’m sorry Brian, God, I’m so sorry,” someone said in the distance, but he could barely hear them over the unbelievable noise inside his head. He was sure he’d opened his eyes, but couldn’t see anything but flashing colours, blinding him, making him insane. Maybe insanity isn’t so bad after all… His eyes were unfocused and the bright, colourful shapes he saw, couldn’t take shape. He was glad for that, knowing that if he could actually see them, they would scare the crap out of him.

Are you scared, Brian? Are you scared? Brian, are you scared? Are you scared, Brian? Are you scared? Brian? Brian? Brian are you scared? Scared? Brian, are you scared, are you?

The voice wouldn’t shut up, no matter what he tried, and with every word it spoke, came a flash of light, a shot of pure agony.

I’m not scared, go away.

Are you scared Brian? Brian are you scared? Scared, Brian? Are you scared?

Help me…

“Just hold on, I’m here now. God, I’m so sorry,” the other voice said softly again, but Brian didn’t know what the words meant. He couldn’t focus on them when there was another voice over screaming the soft one.

Is this the end? Brian, is this the end? This is the end, Brian. Are you scared this is the end? Brian are you scared? This is the end, is it? Brian? Is this the end, Brian? This is the end.

Please stop talking.

It’s the end, Brian. It’s the end. You know that it’s the end. Are you scared, Brian? Brian, are you scared? Do you know it’s the end? Are you scared this is the end? IT’S THE END BRIAN!

The voice deformed into a low, menacing tone and Brian felt his head split open. Piercing white stabbed his eyes and he screamed out. Shaking violently, uncontrollably, he gasped for precious oxygen that didn’t seem to be in the room. There were hands on his back, supporting him, keeping him down. Let me go, I need air! He struggled weakly and screamed again.

Does it hurt, Brian? Brian, does it hurt? Tell me it hurts. Are you scared it hurts? It hurts Brian, it hurts. It’s the end, Brian. The end hurts Brian. Do you know the end hurts, Brian? Are you scared of the end? Is this the end? Brian, are you scared? Please tell me you’re scared. Are you scared? Does it hurt?  THE END HURTS BRIAN!

“No! Brian, please no! Oh, God, I’m so sorry!”

Brian couldn’t hear it, the voice was just too far away. He felt his eyes roll back and knew he was in hell.

THIS IS THE END…

 

June 1980

“Mommy, wait for me!” he yelled, pedalling his Big Wheels furiously down the sidewalk, trying to keep up with his mother. It wasn’t fair, Mommy had a much bigger bike and she seemed to go much faster, without having to spend as much energy.

“Mo-om!” he shouted, frustrated and then gave up and stood still. Watching the sidewalk suspiciously for a minute, he began kicking the pedals again, slowly, experimentally. What if it wasn’t the bike? What if it was the sidewalk? What if the road was much faster than the sidewalk? He picked up pace again, riding as fast as he could and aimed for the deep edge of the sidewalk. Too deep. With an epic tilt, his bike did a somersault and gravity pulled the five-year-old riding it, down. He felt his knees come in contact with the rough concrete and skidded a few feet further. Coming to a halt, he let himself fall forward. With an astonished expression, he pushed himself up with his hands and sat back in the middle of the street, dazed.

“Brian!” Mommy yelled from a hundred feet down the road. He looked at her, his eyes big in shock. Trying to get up, he felt a sharp pain in his right knee and looked down. He was bleeding! At the sight of blood, trickling down his calf, visible through the torn denim of his jeans, he began wailing loudly. A few cars had stopped and people got out, looking worriedly at the small kid. The boy didn’t care and continued crying, clutching his knee protectively.

“Brian, Brian, hey look at me!” Suddenly, Mommy was there, grabbing his shoulders.  Sobbing, he glanced up at her, tears streaming down his face. She smiled down comfortingly at him and took his head in her hands.

“Hey, Baby Duck, can you let me see your knee?” she asked sweetly. His eyes grew even wider at the thought of exposing his leg and he shook his head wildly.

“Should we call an ambulance?” an old man questioned, concerned and Mommy turned around.

“No, no, it’s fine. Just a skinned knee, right Baby Duck?” She always called him Baby Duck, cause he loved Donald Duck, obviously. He could almost do the voice now too. Thinking for a moment, he nodded slowly and after taking a deep breath, he removed his hands from his wounded knee. Mommy sighed in relief, gently touching the affected area. The little boy whimpered slightly at her touch but didn’t move away. The crowd was diminishing now and soon only him and Mommy were left

“Right, can you move it, honey?” she asked softly and the kid did his best, moving his leg up and down, pounding on the street. He nodded and smiled through his tears, forgetting the pain when Mommy helped him up and pulled a chocolate cookie out of her purse.

“Come on honey, let’s go home,” she suggested and he took her hand, already forgetting about his bleeding knee.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

review for more chapters, please.

thanks for reading!