Chapter Fifteen| Objects In The Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are

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I couldn't leave you guys hanging on that cliff for too long so here, take the rope and hoist yourself back over the ledge and try not to kill me.

Chapter Fifteen| Objects In The Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are

 I had spent five months waiting and dreading a phone call that I knew would turn my life upside down, but I never got one. His treatments were a success and even when the prognosis was poor, he fought through them with tired lungs and heavy limbs. He was a soldier fighting on home turf, weapons drawn and ready. Unfortunately, soldiers can only go on for so long before giving up the battle and losing the war. My soldier still raged on, but someone else’s had just lost the battle.

The smell of iodoform makes my stomach turn. I’ve done this very walk before, more times than I can count, but this time it was different.

 Parker runs through the automatic doors, his head whipping around as he searches for the source of the scream we had witnessed only thirty minutes ago. He said one word before he hung up. Hospital. We were out the door before the four of us could catch our breaths.

 Noel and Nolan hang back, trailing behind me as I follow Parker up to the front desk and I’m unsure if it’s because they feel uncomfortable with the current situation of if they’re just staying out of the way.

 The nurse takes her sweet time looking through files to find whatever she thinks we need and Parker, who is panicking, twists his hands together with nervousness and annoyance.

 “A room! All we fuckin’ need is a room number!” He snaps, which not only makes me jump but raises the attention of everyone in the waiting area.

 The lady opens her mouth to speak when Carla pushes her out of the way, laying her hands down on Parker’s twisting hands. “Third floor. Room two eighteen. But, if you’re looking for Motley, he’s by the gift shop on the third floor.” She reaches behind her for a visitor's pass, placing it around Parker’s neck before motioning towards the elevator. “Go, hurry.” Parker nods and grabs my hand, holding it tight enough to make me wince. The four of us run for the elevator, unsure of what awaits us on the third floor but silently praying it’s not what we’re all thinking.

 When the elevator stops, Parker lets my hand go, flying out the doors before they can fully open and we follow behind blindly, turning corners without looking and tearing down the long stretch of colored tiles. We turn the corner, the gift shop in clear view with it’s glass walls and large ‘get better’ teddy bears lining the shelves. I feel my heart fall to the pit of my stomach when I see him, leaning forward on the bench outside of the closed shop, his hands covering his face and his shoulders shaking. I can hear him dry heaving from where I stand, just the sound of it making me crumple inside. I know what’s happening without him even speaking, because I’ve picture myself in the same position, broken and shattered and left to pick up the pieces and start over without the biggest part of your life.

 Parker steps towards him hesitantly, pale in the face and hands shaking at his sides. “Motley?” His voice shakes, terrified of what he’s about to hear come out of his best friends lips. Motley looks up, his face dark red and wet from the tears that continue to fall. He shakes his head, his lip quivering as he stands up and walks over to Parker who meets halfway. The moment Parker wraps Motley into a brotherly hug, Motley breaks completely.

 “He’s gone.” He gasps out. “He’s dead. My dad… m-my dad’s dead, Parker.” Parker tightens his grip, tears sliding down his cheeks at the truth. Motley keeps repeating himself, over and over hysterically, each time making the knot in my throat tighten until it feels like I can’t breath.  

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