Way Back Home

4

The first thing I heard was an inhumane wailing, screaming. Myah. Myah, I have to get to her. I try to lift my arm but it won't move. Try to open my eyes but I couldn't. I started to panic. I started to remember the car turning, flipping. I had to stay awake.

I had to get to Myah. I needed to help her. 

I started to get tired...

I suppose I could sleep just a little while longer...

..................................................................

My eyes opened suddenly. Instantly I tried to sit up, and pain shot through my back. Stifling a scream I glanced around at the empty room. Where was I?

Hospital. I was at the hospital. I leaned over and fumbled, finding the call button.

A nurse entered the room. She smiled quietly at me.
"You're awake. Would you like to sit up?"

I nodded and the nurse pressed a button, the back of the bed lifted me up into a sitting position.

"Where... Where is everybody?"

"Your family are at the funeral."

Funeral?

What funeral?

Oh my god.
Holden was in the car with me.

"What funeral" I demanded.

The nurse turned a bright shade of red and stuttered incoherently.

At that moment Holden strolled into the room. His left eye was bruised and his lip split but he looked as perfect as always. But there was something about the way he walked, hunched over that made me pause.
Looking up at me he sucked in a breath and quickly walked towards me.

Wrapping his arms around my neck he buried his face in my hair. "Frankie." He whispered.

I felt his tears wet on my skin.

Everything was perfect. Holden was here, Holden was fine.

But...

Holden doesn't cry. Why was Holden crying?

I stiffened. What am I not being told?

Myah and Vic walked in. "Ohh, Frankie. You're awake."

I eyed then suspiciously.

"What's going on. Where were you? What happened?" Myah started sobbing. I could feel Holden shaking, his head still buried in my neck.

Myah looked over nervously at Vic. "Frankie, I..." 

Vic grabbed her hand and then mine. 

"Mitch didn't make it Frankie."

I froze.

What.

Mitch.

Gorgeous, precious little Mitch.

No.

I shook my head vigorously. "No." I croaked. Holden held on to me tighter. I dropped Vic's hand and let my arms hang loosely at my side.

It can't be true. 4-year-old Mitch, only pure sunshine could not be dead. It's not possible.

Not possible.
It's just not.

"I have to get up. I have to go for a walk, get some air. Can you help me up?" I gasped, trying to suppress my tears. 

Holden shifted suddenly, putting his hand on my shoulder.