That Biker Thing

Goodbye

I let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in my chair, resting my head against the soft fabric. These past few hours have to have been the most hectic of my entire 21 years of existence.

In the last two and a half hours, I had taken part in an extremely dangerous motorcycle race, fallen from a bike and injured my leg, quite literally fallen over a cliff, and in the process, fatally harmed one of my best friends unintentionally.

A lot could happen in two and a half hours...

"How're you feeling?" Mitch asked, as he looked up at me from the ground, his brown hair was a mess because of how much he was sweating.

"Okay, I guess," I replied bluntly. "I mean, I'm more worried than anything, but..." I stopped to look at Mitch. His eyes were focused on bandaging the wound on my leg.

Suddenly, he looked up, his eyes now analysing my face. "About Hunter, right?"

I shrugged. "Duh, Mitch."

He raised his eyebrows as he reached for something in his medical kit. "Like I told you," he began. "Since his stitches opened up, Hunter's condition got way worse than it was the night you brought him here last week."

"So, what are you telling me? You did fix him up, right?" I said, my voice making it sound like more of a statement than a question. "Right?"

Mitch looked up to stare at me, his eyes assessing my face carefully. He quickly averted his gaze away from me and to the ground. He then said, "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Hayden. I wanted to wait until I was done with your wound but..."

"But what? You're making me really anxious, Mitch," I admitted, my thoughts getting more horrible and tragic by the second.

He let out a heavy sigh and set down my leg. "Hunter, he..." Mitch's voice trailed off. He stared into the distance, as I looked at him.

Mitch's face showed hints of conflicting emotions. Like he wanted to tell me something, but he wasn't sure if he should.

"What about Hunter?" I asked, clearly panicking. Hunter was a very special person to me, and I couldn't lose him. Especially without having said goodbye.

I had lost many people without saying goodbye. My father didn't deserve one. My mother died while I was on a field trip from school. I never said goodbye to Ryland, although he didn't deserve it either. My farewell to Jake was good enough.

In that moment, I realised that it wasn't about the other person deserving a goodbye from me. I deserved a goodbye. I owed it to myself. I deserved to bid a proper farewell to the people who did me wrong. Saying, 'Goodbye, I'm done with your crap.'

Hunter sure as hell deserved a goodbye from me. I owed it to him. From the time he helped me to try to forget about Ryland, to the time he saved my life a few hours ago... Hunter was the best friend I could have ever asked for.

If he dies tonight, he would leave before I got a chance to thank him for all that he has done.

But how can you say goodbye to someone you don't want to say it to? How can you let someone go, when you don't want them to leave?

How could you possibly go on with your life knowing that the one person in the world who makes you happy, is gone?

But, no, Hunter wouldn't have died...

Right?

He told me he was fine. That he was going to be okay. That he wouldn't go down that easy.

Was I too naive to have believed that? No, I thought, no, he had to have still been alive.

A measly reopened stab wound wouldn't have killed someone like Hunter.