Ok so this is something that i wrote a little while ago about the time when my dad was in a work accident where some large boxes of butter were knocked off his truck by the stupid forklift driver and they hit him in the head, he was in a drug induced coma for about two weeks and the doctors wern't sure if he would wake up. Luckily for me, my mum, my brother and four sisters he did. He recovered remarkably fast and was home from rehab within three months. I of course changed the story so that it has nothing to do with my dad really and made it a whole new story. But basically that is where this idea came from.
I wrote this sorta dealing with my dads accident really, as i have never really dealt with it but stayed firmly in denile basically about the whole thing.
I of course changed the story so that it has nothing to do with my dad really and made it a whole new story. But basically that is where this idea came from.
Go forth and read my duckies.
It was a sight that made him freeze, his breath catching painfully in the back of his throat. Standing in the doorway of the empty, cold, desolate, white room he wasn't so sure that he could actually do this. It had all seemed so easy when he had found out where Ray was. It seemed simple. Enter. Sit beside bed. Talk about nothing. He would wake up. It would be fine again.
Taking a deep breath in he found that his entire body had started to tremble and his hands, which were gripping the door frame, had gone white. Shaking his head back and forth to himself he knew he couldn't do it. He couldn't enter that room and pretend like he couldn't die at any second. He didn't want to.
Ray looked so small, so fragile that at any second, he might break. The crisp white sheet was pulled up to his waist and tucked in at either side. His chest was left bare, wires flowed across it like lines on a map. A blue one here, a green one there, a red one off to the side. His feet moved of their own accord entering the room slowly. A tube had been placed through a small hole in his neck and down his throat into his lungs and one into his stomach. A tracheotomy.
A small peg like device was on the end of one of his fingers. Keeping track of the oxygen levels in his body. A small monitor hung off a long pole that had all the wires attached to it. Lines wiggled across it and made small whirring and beeping noises. His arms and legs were held down by straps so that he couldn't thrash about too much. That and he had been known to keep pulling out the wires in his arms.
Ray suddenly threw himself onto his side almost violently as he shifted around in his coma. If he hadn't seen him doing it yesterday it would have scared him. Hell, being in the ICU scared him. It was like a morgue, all silence and reeking of death. It was here that the real battle was, life or death. It could always go either way at a moments notice.
He could never make himself walk fast, never dared to make a noise louder than a whisper. The curtains, a flimsy brown net material, were shut against the bright sunlight streaming outside giving the room a subdued hushed look.
Grabbing one of the chairs sitting underneath the windows he moved it over to the bed. Sitting down he carefully pulled at the velcro bindings and removed his arm carefully from it. Sliding his hand into Rays he gave a gentle squeeze before he settled on rubbing his thumb back and forth between the skin of his thumb and forefinger in a soothing manner.
Sometimes Ray would squeeze his hand, but most of the time it would stay limp and a dead heavy weight in his own. "Hey," he said softly, always hoping that he could hear him. "i'm back." Tears rose unbidden in his eyes as he stared at the face he had known for 6 years yet it looked like it belonged on a stranger. This wasn't the face of the man he had loved silently for 3 years. This man was a stranger.
Of its own accord his voice began in a shaky wisper to tell Ray everything that he had done since he last saw him. It wasn't anything exciting, but it would let Ray known that someone was here. That he was always here. He knew that somewhere deep down in his coma, Ray knew that he was there. He had to believe it, otherwise he thought he wold just go insane. He had to believe that Ray would wake up, that he would wake up to him.
But the reality, that he kept pushed far deep down, was that Ray would never wake up. It had been 10 months since the car accident that had left Ray in this coma and him with an unsightly scar down one side of his face.
Ray had insisted on taking him home, wasn't going to let him walk the three blocks to his apartment at 3.00am. Max shook his head smiling as they both excited Tysons apartment building. "It's ok Ray, really. I've walked home by myself many times before and nothing has happened."
Ray frowned at Max, the innocence in his eyes made him almost sick with worry. Shaking his head he grabbed the blonds arm and hauled him off in the direction of his car. "Max, I really don't care how many times you've walked home alone. There is no way in hell that I am letting you go off by yourself when I am perfectly capable of driving you the three blocks."
Laughing Max gave in and walked the short distance to Ray's Sedan. The wind had started to pick up and there was a chill in the air that had more to do with the sun having dissappeared hours ago than the early spring chill.
Opening the door Ray slid behind the wheel in one smooth fluid motion. Looking over he watched as Max closed his door and did the same with his. Both buckled their belts at almost the same time. Max grinned over at Ray who was watching him, at 18 Max was still too naively trusting of those around him, sure he wouldn't just go home with someone he met on the street but he would be trusting enough to walk home by himself and think that nothing would happen.
Blinking Ray looked away from Max and started the engine. After getting instructions on how to get to Max's apartment, the two engaged in easy conversation. Ray wanted to know if the PPB All Stars were thinking of entering this years tournament.
Max smiled slyly over at Ray and shrugged, "maybe, what about the White Tiger X?" Ray laughed, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at Max. "Maybe."
Max laughed, so Ray had been asked aswell. Maybe this years tournament would be different. All of them back together again to blade as a team.
They had stopped at a red light. "Turn right at the intersection up ahead." Ray turned his head and looked at Max and smiled. "It feels kinda weird doesn't it?" Max shrugged his shoulders instantly knowing what they were talking about, "yeah I guess it does, but it also feels kinda right. I mean we were so great as a team when we first were formed against our wills." He sent a smirk towards Ray, "but we worked well together, and I think that while we needed to break for awhile and go our seperate ways on seperate teams, we were always ment to come back together one day."
Ray smiled, "yea I think you may be right Max. Of course I have to say I think Tysons gotten worse and if he has then Kai definitely has and it might just be WWIII. But, it may be kinda nice to have them bickering again."
Max laughed as the light changed to green and Ray let out the clutch. They were halfway across to the other side when a bright yellow van came careening around the bend so fast that Ray who barely had anytime to react jumped down on the brake pedal hoping that the van would miss them.
The sound of crunching metal and breaking glass surrounded him as the van crashed into their car. His body was thrown around, held in only by the seatbelt. Excruitiating pain made him bite his tongue as his head was thrown against the window pain, effectively smashing it. Shaking from the pain he slowly and carefully rolled his head so he could see Ray.
Ray's body was half enveloped in the metal of the driver sides door while glass from his window and that of the front windshield glittered over his prone form. One arm was twisted at an odd angle and was trapped between the steering wheel and the mangled door frame. Blood was seeping out form his nose and ears. "Ray" His voice came out a hoarse scared whisper. "Ray?" He knew he probably sounded like a scared frightened child but he couldn't care less, "Ray!" his voice carried to the people milling around who had heard the crash.
Almost at once there were people milling around his door trying to wrench it open, distinctly he could hear the faint sounds of sirens wailing in the distant. Voices surrounded him, empty promises that "everything would be alright," "we'll get you out of there son, just hang tight." "The ambulence and fire crew are on their way." "Stay calm" "Everythings going to be alright."
But everything wasn't alright, here he was with a horrible and ugly reminder on his face of that night. He had a horrible sinking feeling that Ray was never going to wake up either. He just hoped that wherever Ray's conciousness was it was in a much better place then he was right now.
Tears slipped down his cheeks and blurring his vision as his hand gripped Ray's in a death grip. Bowing his head he clenched his teeth together to stop from sobbing, "just wake up damn you. Wake Up!"
As he left the hospital that night, he wished that, as horrible as it sounds, that Ray would die so that he didn't have to be suspended in this limbo. And so that, once and for all he might someday be able to move on. It was selfish he knew, but it would be better for everyone if they would be able to say goodbye. If they could all just let go. For shadows are never ment to be preserved.
So i would love to know what you thought about it, comments are greatly appreciated.
I apologise if there are any spelling mistakes, i sometimes glance over them not really paying attention.