Sunday.
Its only Sunday.
This entire weekend has felt like an entire lifetime smashed into only a few days. I lie down in my bed. My stupid, thin curtains barely block out any of the early morning light shining from outside. I groan as the sunlight decides to peek through and shine right into my sleepless eyes. I pull my comforter over my head in attempt to shield myself from the light. It's early. Too early to wake up from the night I've had.
With one more groan I pull off my covers despite my desire to stay in bed for the rest of my life. I sit up at the edge of my bed with my feet resting on the cold wood flooring. I look over at my alarm clock noticing the time was 10:15am, I get up and walk straight into my bathroom and start up a shower.
After telling Luke to bring me home last night from the hospital, I walked straight upstairs ignoring whatever it is that my mother was trying to tell me. I didn't want to speak to the women who didn't even try to see her husband in the hospital after he was just in a serious car crash. It was like she didn't even care. Yes, they are getting a divorce, but that is no excuse in this case.
I step out the shower after a long time of soaking in the warm water which didn't help clear my mind as much as I had hoped it would. I grab Luke's boxers and t-shirt before leaving my bathroom and padding back down the hall to my room. I change into a pair of black jeans and a black lose fitting sweater. I don't bother to touch my wet hair and I would rather not look into my mirror this morning too scared to see what I looked like.
I walk down the steps, not finding my mother in the kitchen or living room; I just open the front door and walk out onto the porch. The cold morning air chills my just-washed body as I stand outside.
I pull out my lighter and pack of cigarettes from my hoodie pocket, planning on finishing the last three in the pack before I go back inside. I light up one and close my eyes, inhaling the smoke as I feel it travel to my lungs. I cough harshly, that was too big of a drag this early in the morning.
"If you keep at it you're gonna kill yourself." I hear my mother's voice speak from behind me, and I don't bother to acknowledge her unwanted presence.
"Good, I've got nothing to lose..." I reply, taking another long drag this time releasing it cleanly out into the air.
"I just got off the phone with the hospital. They called this morning with an update." She tells me, now standing next to me but I don't want to look at her, only scared to see myself looking directly back. I don't respond, waiting for her to continue on with what they told her in the phone. "They said that the swelling has gotten worse, much worse even though its only been one night." She tells me, and I turn to face her.
"What are you saying?" I ask my mother.
"The doctors say he's not going to wake up, they put him in a cat scan last night and saw how bad the damage really is..." She continues and I am already annoyed with her voice but I am more than worried about my father who I would like to believe actually cares a little bit about me.
"Could you get to the point?" I snap, impatiently waiting for her to tell me the information I know that she's holding back.
"I think we should come inside and talk about it..." she tells me, wrapping her sweater around her frail body.
I take another drag and don't bother turning my head to blow the smoke away. Instead I blow the smoke in her face, despite how much she hated the smell of cigarettes. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the doctors told you." I say sternly, shivering slightly from my wet hair attracting the winter breeze.
My mother takes a deep breath and looks down momentarily. "The doctors gave us an option..." she starts and I wait for her to continue, tapping on my burning cigarette. "They said we can pull the plug if we wan-"
"No." I cut her off.
"But Riley the doctors said-"
"No!" I repeat louder. "I'm not going to let you or some stupid ass doctors kill my father!"
"Lower your voice Riley..." My mother says, her voice to a whisper. "We don't want the neighbors to hear you."
"Oh yeah, we wouldn't want the neighbors to hear that my mother is a fucking psychopath!" I purposely yell louder in the direction of the neighbor's houses. My mother sighs and shakes her head crossing her arms as she looked up at me, trying to give a motherly stare which looks foreign on her face. "Wait, are you actually considering it?! You can't be serious mother." I say, looking at her in disbelief. She can't really be considering killing her own husband?
"Riley, He's practically already dead... the doctors are giving us a week to decide." She says.
"Don't fucking say that. He's still alive." I say through clenched teeth, anger taking over me.
"Language Riley.." My mother warns.
"No! Fuck You!" I say, in her face. "Since when do you think you can act like a mother to me? And just because he's in a fucking coma doesn't make him dead. His heart is still beating. He is still alive."
"By the miracle of the hospital machines Riley."
"I don't give a shit. He is still alive and breathing either way." I defend my father's life.
"I don't want him to suffer any longer Riley. If he is never going to wake up, why should we just leave his body there if nobody is inside it?" She tries, but there is no convincing me. I shake my head and turn around, walking down the three steps. "Where are you going?" She calls out to me.
"As far away from you as I can get!" I call back, taking another drag and tossing the cigarette out on the street.
"Riley if you don't come back here right now, I will make the decision without your input." She says sternly and I stop in my tracks. I take a deep breath, every part of me wanting to keep on walking but I can't. I can't let her do that to him. I turn back around and walk back up onto the porch, through the front door and into my living room with my mother following behind. I sit down on the couch and cross my arms, waiting for her to speak.
"I have no choice Riley... It's not like this is easy for me to do." She starts.
I scoff. "Oh yeah, it sure looks like this entire thing is devastating for you." I say sarcastically.
"Don't you dare tell me that I do not care about your father." She scolds, seeming angry. "I am doing what's best for him. It is not easy for me to watch him dying. I'd rather end it now, than have to deal with him being alive and suffering."
I shake my head. "It's still wrong. You are not doing it." I finish, not wanting this conversation to go on any longer. I walk upstairs and close my door, lying down on my bed and staring up on the ceiling. I hear my phone vibrate a few times and I grab it from my bedside, Luke's name popped up on the screen. I unlock my phone and read the messages. Luke, Michael, Calum, And Ashton were going away for a battle of the bands down in Portland for a while and he asked if I wanted to be their roadie.
I pondered the question for a little bit. Of course I would like to drive a couple hours down to Portland from Newcastle here in Washington. I'm tired of this place and all the terrible memories it holds. A week away in a new area would be great for me to think and just clear my head. But I can't leave. I can't just pack up and go away for a week while my father is in the hospital and my mother could possibly pull the plugs that are keeping him alive. I need to be here for him, as much as I would like to run away from my life.
-
It's been exactly one week.
Luke isn't back yet.
My mother isn't home.
And my father is gone. Really gone.
My mother decided to pay a visit to the hospital while I was asleep 2 nights ago. She filled out a couple of papers and just like that, my father's heart stopped beating without him having any say whether he wanted to stay alive or not.
I lie down on my bed. Waiting until my mother comes home from the funeral home, planning a funeral which should not be going on in the first place. I feel tears prickle my eyes and I mentally force myself to push them away. I spend the last few days crying, and I hate it. The pain in my chest in unbearable and the feeling is much different from my last heartbreak. Its worse. Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe, and I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that this is my fault. I could have stopped her from doing that. I could have kept my dad alive, and he could have woke up.
I hear my phone buzz and pick it up to see my dealer Nash had texted me. I haven't done anything in almost a month, and it was almost a sign telling me that this may be my only way to take a breath, without feeling like I don't deserve that air in my lungs. Nash and a bunch of his friends were having a party out in one of the hot spots in the woods to test out their new shipment. I don't think twice to respond with a 'Hell yes', before grabbing my boots and jacket, and heading out the door.
(I'm Sorry For The Long Wait! But I Hope It Was Worth it! 3 Pages!! Yay! Please Vote And Comment Your Thoughts On The Chapter. It Really Motivates Me To Write More. <3 P.S. Song for this chap is 'These Streets' -Bastille c: )