My Music Playlist Series

Lemon

Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Kurtis Mirko Martin

Saturday. Sunday. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. And so on.

   But Kurtis Mirko Martin only ever waited for one day, Friday. He only dreads for that day ever since the day he stopped walking. And ever since he stopped walking, what else was there to do but to tie his brown hair into a man bun over and over even though it wasn't even long enough?

   It was after lunch, Kurt's favorite time of Friday. It was most likely when his friends were free and visitors were allowed to see him. Fridays after lunch were just his favorite part of the week. Kurt groaned as his green orbs watched the clock slowly tick by, wondering what food his friends would bring him. The time is just so fond of slowing down to piss you off, Kurt never liked the concept of time.

   But time mattered, especially in the hospital and visitors and visiting.

   Typically, Kurt would be the person who didn't care for visiting hours— he didn't want anyone seeing him as he was now. Stuck on either a bed or a wheelchair, his lean and athletic body a waste. It was in the hospital that Kurt was least comfortable, but he didn't really have a choice.

   He would've just purchased a hospital bed and had it his home, but he had no family member to watch over him throughout the course of the day. His dad worked out of the country, he didn't have a mom and his sister was flooded with high school.

   Kurt wouldn't have been there, stuck and useless, if this Ford driver hadn't insisted that he wasn't counter flowing in an one way street when he was. Just the previous year on April, Kurt had been hit by a car.

   Some people had muttered that he had deserved it, Kurt surely did. He was always bitter about life, took things for granted and was easily depressed. That accident was like a wake up call saying, Kurt, you never worked that hard nor cared for the baseball team, so here you get the incapability to walk.

   He wasn't hurt badly, nor did he felt much, but his lower body was crushed and bones were shattered. Kurt had been driving and was on his way to his little sister's house to fetch her sibling, Killa Nathalia Martin— like what he does every single time Killa ends up in the Davies' household.

   When the Ford came crashing into Kurt's life, he felt nothing but little needles pricking his whole lower half and sleep coming in to punch him. But he had still manage to hear the screams and the noise of the two cars colliding.

   The vehicle slammed and Kurt's world was white, then gray and finally black. Coincidentally, the accident was in the same neighborhood where one of Kurt's friends lived in, Silvio Thomas, the richest guy in their local college. And some way, somehow, Silvio just knew that something just went wrong the moment his knees buckled and let him fall to the ground.

   Silvio felt something, he knew someone wasn't okay. He grabbed his phone, ran to the door and followed the sound of screams and the scent of blood. He marched, then broke into a run. Silvio felt empty, though heavy. His eyes swept the streets— then he saw that two cars have collided. And in one of them, was Kurt.

   And sure enough, he was right.