The Cataclysm {Rick Grimes x Male! Oc}

Chapter 10: In a Split Second

"The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited or erased; it can only be accepted." 
-- Wiz Khalifa

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Mother received a call this morning. I know it was Father. He's the only person she hates enough to vent to me about it immediately after anything happens. She makes it more than obvious on why she refuses to allow me any more time to be in his presence. Whenever I bring him up around her, Mother can't help but tell me of everything she hates about him. How she didn't care if he was a renowned veteran in the military. How it didn't matter how many lives he had saved, or of how truly heroic he was while in life-threatening situations. All that matters in her eyes was that he didn't want her and chose to break her heart. How he wanted to love men over her. She thinks of it as a decision and not as him finally accepting who he truly is and is giving himself a chance at true happiness. An honorable action, might I add. In my eyes, he was a hero. In her eyes, he was the villain. But how could he be a villain when he was so obviously good?

I'm very much aware of why he had called in the first place. Seeing as it's my birthday, Father always says is the most important day to celebrate out of the entire year. He says it's the day marking another year's worth of growth and improvement. A day given as a gift from the gods, an achievement instead of another year lost.

To be honest, I wish more often than not to be able to live with Father. He's the only one in my entire life that treats me as an equal, a true intellectual. He used to talk to me about going to high school instead of elementary school. He'd teach me survival skills for almost any scenario I could come up with. Mother doesn't seem to care. When I ask about being enrolled into more challenging levels of schooling, she always says that she either can't afford it or that she doesn't have the time.

As Mother was getting into the car, for a fun little brain teaser I begin to hypothesize how much pressure it requires to activate a weight activated pressure plate that shows when someone isn't buckled in. "You know what pisses me off most? His dumbass notions making him think he even deserves to know us anymore." Mother obviously couldn't help herself, seeing as we are only five minutes into the drive to my school.

"Did you know that our conscious mind can process sixteen bits of information per second; while our subconscious mind can process about eleven million?" The only reason I ever talk to Mother anymore is in an attempt at distracting her from her usual negativity. This time is no different.

"The fact that he still calls for your stupid birthday just shows how absolutely retarded he is. 'I just want to talk to him.' Like, what the fuck? Leave me alone." she replies like usual. The fact that she's driving me to an elementary school is only making this day that much more unbearable. And it's not even eight o'clock yet.

I can't take this. Make it stop. "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually a lot safer to kiss people instead." I say, again trying to divert the bothersome conversation. We've only been driving for fifteen minutes now and I already want to throw myself out of the car and into the street. Again.

"I can't believe I didn't see it sooner, ya know? I still don't know why I even allowed myself to know him." she continues, like always.

People always say that everyone is given what they are meant to experience. Things that help them to grow and become better people. I still don't understand the reason behind having such a hateful and pessimistic mother. I genuinely pray to all the deities I highly doubt exist for a chance at relief. "The Blue Whale can produce sounds up to one hundred and eighty-eight decibels. It's the loudest sound produced by any living animal. It can be detected as far away as five hundred and thirty miles."

"I refuse to let you be tainted by his awfulness, Logan." she sneered without care.

What's that sound? We're going pretty fast; about fifty-four miles an hour I'd say... That light we're coming up to is still red. What's Mother doing?

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Seconds later, and far faster than Logan could comprehend, his life permanently changed. Whether it was for the better or worse was simply a penny in the air.

Locked tires screamed like banshees across the damp asphalt as Synthia unknowingly raced through a red light in a busy intersection. A Ford F150 mercilessly plowed directly into the driver's door, effectively and dangerously caving in the impacted side. Within milliseconds was Logan severely knocked unconscious as their car flipped four times into a steep ditch a good ways away from the road itself.

Logan was only coming to after four minutes of being trapped in the totaled vehicle. Sure he was awake, but it didn't mean he was aware of anything happening around him. In the hazy background, he could hear people talking urgently and loudly somewhere nearby. He could hear the confusing sirens growing nearer. "Mother..." he mumbled as he slowly blinked in a futile attempt at clearing his muddled mind.

As his vision gradually began to clear for a brief moment, Logan could slowly see his bloodied and motionless mother still strapped to her slightly mangled seat. 'There's a child in the back! There's a little boy!' he heard, but payed it no mind.

The only thing he forced himself to focus on was if she was okay. "Mother... Mother... Mo--..." The terrifying darkness began to envelope him once again. He knew it was a small chance a concussion coma results in death. Though, he was also aware of the fact that the more severe the injury only escalated the chances. But seeing his mother motionless and covered in gore haunted him far more than the thought of possible coma death. Moments before he was completely submerged, the truth drowned him with its uncertainty. He no longer had a mother. He was cursed. He was freed.