Skip to main content

'James' written words by a wallflower


You can’t just expect people to fall at your beck and call James, she said. I know now she was right, deep down I think I knew then, but I guess I just chose to ignore that part of my brain, those thoughts that maybe I wasn’t who I thought I was and maybe I was, or am, a terrible person for it.

I had always told myself I would move to California one day, and now being here, driving down the state route one highway, I feel like I have finally made it. Destined to be here, not stuck in some small town for the rest of my life. My torn copy of Jane Eyre sits beside me, the pages torn and dogeared, notes riddled between the lines, and my favourite passages circled.
You know, I think we are really going to love it here Dude I say. From the crowded backseat Dude my gold lab pops his head between the front seats and pants. Smiling I reach over at scratch his head, I was laughing now, I remember almost perfectly. It was as if the stars had finally aligned for me, I glanced over at Dude his eyes peering out at the distance of road,
A happy moment
Feelings of joy
Ripped away
Glass shattering
Metal screeching on metal
Tire tracks
Black.

Incessant beep, beep, beep. It never ended. Ongoing thump, thump, thump. A pain in my head. Darkness, voices.
James, James are you awake?
I didn’t know, was I dead?
I Don’t think so
Grunting I lifted my hand to my eyes, a string of wires coming along. The bright lights piercing my new eyes. Close the blinds please, the first thing I said.
James its mom, how do you feel? Like I am walking on clouds mother, a skipped beat, I feel like shit.
No need to be rude, ill fetch the doctor. As she walked out of the door, I shifted my hand and looked at my surroundings. From my bed I could see the glass doors, ICU read the frosted glass. Beside me a chair is covered by a blanket, a pillow propped against the leg, mother had been sleeping here. A heartbeat monitor, the source of the beeping. The bottom left corner read the date, March 16th, I had been out for a week.
He just woke up, irritable as always so I guess his personality hasn’t changed. The voice of mother brought me back to reality. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"The Dark Days, and The Bright Nights" A short story by Katlynn Chrans

The Dark Days, and The Bright Nights; By Katlynn Chrans The night ends how every other night ends, with darkness, as black as rich soil deep within the earth; the morning begins how every other morning begins, with pale colours as beautiful as a snow tipped mountain. Every day was the same for me, except today. Walking down the New York City sidewalks I hail a taxi, quickly stepping into the backseat. Giving the driver directions to my favourite downtown café I lean back in the worn down leather seat and watch as the early sunlight filters through between the skyscrapers. “Mister, hey mister, please wake up. Mister we are here, Happy Bones café” the driver softly mumbles, luring me from sleep. “Yes sorry” I quickly pull out my wallet and leave the woman a one-hundred dollar bill telling her to keep the change. I duck my head under the frame and send my thank you’s before shutting the taxi door and walking into the warmth of the confined, coffee-smelling home away fr...
Post a Comment
Read more

'kates' the words she never says

A singular person is multiple things, it is psychologically impossible for us to be just, one, thing. Humans are complex, ever-changing and evolving. But what do I know?               I’m just some nobody who is constantly thinking about things that can never be. I know that there’s kate, me, there’s the kate that listens to music in the dark thinking about what she will do tomorrow and the next day and the next day…and the next, and kate who will always go back to listening to my favourite 80’s anthems, wishing she could have seen the people she adores so much.               Who’s to say we can only be one person? Confined to the physicality’s of the world. There’s the kate who will forever want to be an actress, or an astronaut and live in space, or or, the kate that wants to be really smart and reads Stephen hawking in hopes that one day she’l...
Post a Comment
Read more