All American Boys

33. Lazarus

All American Boys

Chapter 33: Lazarus

"I'm so, so sorry," I muttered as I leaned back into the armchair. "It's all my fault."

It was no use, of course. It's not like he could hear me. And even if he could, I wasn't even sure if he could respond.

I sat there by his side, not knowing what to do. The room was cold, dark and empty save for Isaac and I. The only sound to be heard was the beeping of his heart rate monitor – it was the only sign that he was still alive. The lamp by the bedside was put on its dimmest setting, illuminating the vicinity faintly, casting shadows against the walls. I had taken over for Mrs Anderson, who had went home to rest for the night. She needed it, that poor woman. She hadn't slept for nearly two days. Hayden had come to visit on the second day, but he couldn't help watch over him, as he had to return to the base. Besides, as bad as it was, Isaac's condition had stabilised slightly, but he still needed close monitoring. That left me alone with Isaac. It was the first time I was alone with him ever since the accident.

It was all my fault. If I didn't insist on chasing him down, if I had just left him alone when he left, he wouldn't have driven off so recklessly. If I didn't, he would've seen that pickup coming in from the side.

I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he died. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. But for now, I could only hope that he was alright.

He had been unconscious for three days, but I couldn't forget what I saw in that wreck. The car had rolled over a few times, landing on its side. Isaac was inside, crimson blood running down his head, flowing out of his lips. I feared the worst, but the first responders told me he was still alive, but barely.

I had waited outside the emergency room, hoping that he would be alright. My heart thumped in my chest every time a doctor or nurse heading in my direction when they walked down the corridor, awaiting any updates on his condition. I had been told that Isaac had hit his head really hard during the impact, and his shattered ribs had punctured into his lungs. He was lucky that he had worn his seatbelt, or he would've been thrown out and his injuries would be far worse.

"I honestly don't know what to say to you," I said, disappointed in myself. "I didn't even know if I should even show my face here. I'm just. . . so ashamed to face you.

I took a deep breath. Isaac still lay there, a bandage banded around his head, just above his ears. The skin around his left eye had taken on a bluish tint.

"I know I've had a lot of explaining to do," I continued. "But I was scared. I was scared that you didn't want to see me anymore, after what you said. But that's when I was wrong.

His palm was open, laying limp by his side. Slowly reaching out, I placed my hand in his.

"I'm sorry," I said, after a long pause. "I. . . I only thought about myself. I never realised that then and there, that was when you needed me the most. And I've abandoned you.

My vision began to get blurry as the tears started to gloss over my eyes.

"I don't know how I can ever make it up to you, and I don't know if I ever will.

The regret and the realisation of the severity of my actions hit me all at once, like waves crashing against the shore. My heart was thrown into that turbulence, smashed against the jagged rocks lining the coast, tearing it to shreds. I tried holding back the tears, but they just started to fall.

I squeezed his hand, as the grief took a sharp kick to my chest.

"I never should've avoided the funeral. You needed me then and I just didn't show up. And to think that if you'd leave this world right now, hating me and realising how disgusting of a person I am. . . maybe it's what I deserve.