What If

Chapter 1

The engine rumbled as the car rolled down the driveway. As it drew closer to the shed, the blue eyed driver tightened his grip on the wheel and straightened in his seat. Carefully, he manoeuvred the car into the shed, which had been half converted from a double garage to form Jeffrey Vincent's sanctuary.

His mother approached from the house as he emerged from the car, her arms crossed and a brow raised.

"What?" he asked. "I like going for long drives. Driving fast is great, Mum. You should really try it sometime."

His mother just shook her head before turning and walking away.

Jeffrey stared after her, remembering the feeling of the wind, his radio turned up loud. The thrill coursed through him at the mere thought. He breathed deeply, almost feeling the air blowing over his floppy caramel hair and making it even more of a mess.

"Jeffrey!"

He opened his eyes to see his father glaring back at him, his normally soft, kind eyes hard. He folded his arms across his chest, a frown on his lips. "Why do you have to be so reckless all the time!?"

Jeffrey simply held his father's gaze, at a loss for words. "Dad.. I..." He looked down at his feet, then at his beloved car. "It's the thrill of the thing, Dad." He stopped himself from adding you wouldn't understand. Don't even try.

His father wouldn't understand. He had never nor would he ever really understand the pressure weighing down on Jeffrey's shoulders, making him feel like his was drowning. He'd never understand that his constant criticisms actually made it worse, creating more waves of pressure for Jeffrey to fight against in a sea that was already at king tide.

His father shook his head as he turned to go after his wife, leaving Jeffrey alone, gasping for air in the wake of the latest wave crashing down upon him.

Jeffrey sighed and turned on his heel. Once he was safe in the privacy of his shed, Jeffrey pulled the bottle a little from it's brown paper packaging, crumpling the paper with the tightness of his grip as he brought it to his mouth and took a sip. He let the warm liquid touch his lips then pass them, his eyes closed, not thinking about all these unobtainable standards his parents seemed to expect him to live up to. Instead, all his attention was focused on the bottle in his hand and the liquid running down his throat.

The alcohol kicked in and Jeffrey began to feel he'd soon start to float. A moment ago, it had seemed the weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders. The weight of all the pressure he felt. Pressure to be perfect. He had to be perfect. At least, that's the way it seemed. Except, he wasn't perfect. Not by the definition of his parents. Stable, normal, sociable. A 'proper' job, higher education. That wasn't him. School had been hard enough when he'd been forced to go, let alone choosing to return. And for what? He made enough of a living with his art and fixing cars. He'd started to make something of a life for himself. Just not one that his parents approved of.

You won't ever be perfect, a small voice in his mind whispered. As he paid attention to it, the voice grew louder. You won't ever be perfect, it told him again. So why bother trying? Just give up. Quit, now, before things get any worse..

Jeffrey sat in silence, squeezing his eyes tighter. He pressed his palms firmly against his ears, trying to make the voice disappear. It was a long while before he took his hands away and opened his eyes again. When he did, the sight of his favourite place in the world made him sigh with relief. Because it was here, in his big shed that he knew he was safe. Here, no one could touch him. Here, he was on his own, free from prying eyes and people wanting to tell him how to run his life. There was no judgement, no pressure, no need to live up to impossibly unattainable standards. Here, he was free and at peace.

Jeffrey wasn't brave enough to look out the one window. The outside world was too frightening to even comprehend returning to. If he could just stay here forever, he would have. Or better yet, if he could get away from here completely. If only he could just escape. He didn't care where. He just wanted to get away. Get away from the world, so critical and judging and pressuring. Because he knew, there was only so long he could hide from it all here in the shed. Even with the seemingly indestructible brick walls that kept that made the rest of the world disappear, there was only so long it could all go away.

He knew very well that nothing could get to him here, yet he could have sworn he could hear a voice whispering his name.

"Jeffrey."

"Jeffrey."

"Jeffrey." Each time they called his name, the voice became louder until it was all he could hear. Until the voice became thunder and the Earth seemed to shake from the volume. Jeffrey squeezed his eyes shut. He wished his radio was on. Any blaring source of noise to drown out the voice. It was nearly as bad as all the pressure and the orders to be perfect. He could hear faint echoes of his mother, yelling at him about doing the right thing. Of his father, giving him yet another lecture about how he really needed to get his life on track. He was trying. Couldn't they see that? He went to AA. He had a sponsor, for heaven's sake!

What's the point? Whispered the voice in his ear. You'll never please them. They'll never be proud of you. You're just one big disappointment. Just give up. Get away now, before you make things worse. They're better off without you.

Opening his eyes, Jeffrey looked around at his painted canvases, strewn at random around him, propped up against the walls. All of them shared the same dark, gloomy themes that had long plagued him. The same dark gloominess swirling throughout his thoughts and that the voice in his head was echoing.

"Jeffrey! Come to me!"

"I'll help you escape this world..."

"That's what you want, isn't it? To be set free?"

"Yes," Jeffrey answered the voice at last, though his own came out in a whisper. That was all he wanted, after all. Escape.

"Then come with me." Jeffrey looked around him. It was definitely just a voice he was hearing. His shed was empty. Yet somehow, from the sound, he knew where to go.

He crossed the room to his precious car in something of a trance.

"Do it!" the voice egged him on. "Do it!" He stood still a moment, closing his eyes once again in an attempt to block the voice out. He lifted the bottle to his lips, and poured another dose of liquid courage down his throat. But the voice still came, in hissed whispers, urging him on. Opening his eyes, he reached out for the door handle. It opened and he sat inside. At last he began to relax.

"Do it!" the voice whispered, urgently now, like a mate egging him on. He fumbled in his pocket for the key. Once he'd found it, he placed it in the ignition and turned it. "Yes!" said the voice contentedly. "Yes! Soon, you'll be free. Soon, you'll escape."

He sat there a moment, thinking. Usually, he'd turn the key and go for a long drive. Sometimes, the brief escape from life, whether it was a long drive, painting a new piece or switching it all off with the magically alluring swig of alcohol was all he needed. But something told him that none of that would cut it this time... He needed more than just to escape for a little while. He needed to escape. He couldn't handle this anymore. He just needed it all to go away.

Jeffrey snapped back to reality. In a great rush, he flung the car door open and darted back across the room, locking the shed door before returning to sit in the car, grabbing the bottle he'd abandoned on the way past. Once again, he gave in to his old friend alcohol. Maybe it wouldn't satisfy him completely, but it would help. It would quieten that tiny voice screaming at him to stop. No, stopping would not be good. Stopping meant facing the world. And he couldn't do that. He didn't have any strength left. He needed to escape.

At first, Jeffrey didn't notice the gas billowing from the car out into the shed and around him. Even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. He was beyond that.

The air gradually became heavier and thicker. It came slowly to start with, but, the smell grew stronger and overtook the room. It would have been hard to see anything much through the thick, misty smoke the gas had created. There was no going back now. It was too late for that. For a while, he just looked at the thick smoke wafting dangerously through the air. Then, his vision began to blur before going completely black, like the world at night without any lights.