by Kim Cormack
She whispered, “I’m so sorry honey. I wish I could erase everything you had to see today.”
With intense spiritual defeat, Kevin laid his head on his mother’s soft and safe shoulder. Her chest heaved with rhythmic sobs of empathy. He allowed more tears to moisten his eyes. He began to feel calm with the soothing rhythm of his mother’s heart. It seemed to whisper, it’s okay; everything is going to be okay. I have you, and I love you.
His father joined their hug. He sobbed, “This is my fault. Kids get older, and you just don’t worry as much anymore. I used to walk her to the door and make sure someone was home for her when I dropped her off … I just drove away. I dropped her off with a maniac in the house. I left her there. I didn’t even wait to see if she made it inside okay. I’m so sorry.”
Kevin’s mother whispered against his hair as they clung together, “Nobody would have expected you to wait with her. They aren’t children anymore.”
Kevin’s tears burst forth as if someone had opened a dam inside his soul. He wasn’t a child anymore. His innocence had been lost in the worst possible way. He would never be a child again. The three stood clinging to each other sobbing until the tears ceased to flow.
Hours passed, and each minute that inched by on the clock on the hospital wall appeared to take ten. Kevin glanced up from his ancient magazine sensing a new presence. A nurse had come over to tell them that Kayn was still in surgery. She would be there for the rest of the night. She told them they should go home and try to get some rest. They all looked at each other knowing no one could sleep. There was no way they could leave the hospital knowing they were almost all Kayn had left. She was fighting for her life. They had to stand in solidarity.
“We will stay here,” his mother affirmed in an unwavering tone.
They sat on the leather benches, no one forcing small talk or attempting to speak at all. They thumbed through endless old magazines and took turns travelling to the machines for chips and juice. The nurses kept going through the motions of checking on them occasionally. No one noticed as four strangers arrived at the hospital at the cusp of dawn. No one except Kevin, for he had seen them at the front door. He’d almost cracked a smile as one of them began to curse outside the locked front doors. The front door was only going to be locked for another half an hour, but they didn’t seem to know that, or notice the small buzzer that would call someone to let them enter. He watched the group of teens walk around the side of the building past the windows. There was only one high school. He’d never seen these four. They must be college students camping … or hitchhikers? They were not from around here. He excused himself to go to the bathroom.
A red-headed girl stood in front of Kevin en route to the bathroom, stopping him mid-step, “You’re Kayn’s friend, aren’t you? She’s in my class at school. I just heard what happened to her. It’s so horrible,” she sobbed throwing herself into his arms.
Kevin stood there in the hallway with a hot redhead hanging on him sobbing, and whimpering into his shoulder. No, she wasn't in Kayn’s classes. I’d definitely have noticed this girl. He patted her back not quite knowing what to do, yet not wanting to shove her away and say he didn’t know who the hell she was. He was beginning to feel a little strange. She was warming him, almost burning him where her hands touched him. He was starting to feel funny, really hot; his whole body was on fire. The world around him started rolling; his vision blurred, then turned black. He passed out cold in the hospital hallway.
He awoke to a doctor, his parents, and a nurse pulling him onto a gurney. He felt a sharp pinch on his arm, and he almost immediately felt fantastic. Then another hard pinch on his hand and he didn’t care about anything. They all assumed his gentle personality and devastated mind just couldn’t handle the stress of all he’d seen tonight and it simply took a break.
As he slipped off into a foggy haze, he heard Chloe’s voice whisper, “Thank you.”
Chapter 4
The Devastation of Matthew Brighton
Matt opened his eyes and groaned as his ringtone went off for the eight millionth time. He threw a pillow in the general direction of the phone.
His roommate Ryan murmured, “I’m going to smother you the next time that effing phone rings.”
Matt chuckled into his pillow and mumbled, “That won’t stop her from calling.”
His roommate snapped, “Great, that psycho woke me up. I have to go take a piss.”
Matt mumbled, “Good to know.”
Matt tried to smother himself with his own pillow as his phone began to ring again. “Answer my phone and get rid of it. I’m going to lose my shit,” Matt mumbled into his pillow.
Ryan wasn’t in the room to hear him complain. He yelled from the bathroom down the hall, “What the fu … My front tooth’s chipped.”
Someone yelled from another room, “Nobody cares.”
Ryan staggered back into their dorm room and crawled onto Matt’s bed. He was trying to show him his tooth. His breath smelled like cinnamon crap. Fireball shots! They’d been drinking cinnamon whisky all night.
Matt hid under his pillow and said, “I’m going to scream, if you try anything.”
Ryan moved back to his own bed and chuckled, “You would have loved it.”
He could hear his head aching. Matt wondered if he still had all of his teeth. His mouth was filled with that lovely chalky paste. It made him gag to run his tongue over his teeth. Another night lost to the blackening effects of Fireball whisky. He had clearly not guzzled down his usual amount of water. He opened one eye to see if there was any on his nightstand. None.
He didn’t want to move to go down the hall to get some. He couldn’t remember what they had in the mini fridge. He glanced at it. No, too far away. It was either sick-smelling sweat, or he had drooled all over his pillow. He rolled over, onto the other pillow and breathed the sweet scent of perfume that still lingered. Had he slept with someone last night? He must have. He stretched his toned, bronzed arms, hearing one crack. He peaked over to look on the floor to see if no name booty call had left anything behind.
When did I have the time to have sex? Oh yeah, brought her home after my morning class. We came back here … partied together. Ryan chipped his tooth opening a beer. He remembered now. They had started drinking in the afternoon.
Matt was easy on the eyes, with a full ride scholarship. In retrospect, life for him had been one long responsibility free party. He loved his life. Relationships had never been his thing. Matthew Brighton was a great friend, but a shitty boyfriend. He dumped his girlfriend by text right before he slept with another girl. He wasn’t a cheater.
Matt had been ignoring his phone all night. He avoided drama like the plague. If he kept ignoring her, maybe she would just give up and go away. This was why all of his exes despised him. He must have been too drunk to figure out how to turn off the ringer. He gazed across the room; his roommate Ryan was in no better state. His phone went off again. Why won’t she go away? She’s effing stone, cold, insane
“Matt, I swear with everything inside of me. I’m going to shove that phone up your ass to muffle the sound.”
Matt chuckled, “No, means no, Ryan. His roommate, launched an empty beer can at him. Matt got up and staggered around to search for his phone. He was going to turn it off, but it began to ring. He stared at it and thought Oh, what the hell. I’ll be a frigging man.
“All right, I got it.” He answered with raspy seduction, “Hello, Matt’s love palace, Matt speaking.”
“I’m downstairs. Kick her out. I’m coming up.” It was his best friend, Clay.
Matt stood up, wavering on his feet. He was naked. He said, “No, no, don’t you get up Ryan. I’ll get the door.” He looked at the clock and said, “Holy shit, what in the hell is that douche bag doing here at four o’clock in the effing morning?”
Ryan groaned in response and pulled the covers up over his head.
Matt flopped back down on his bed. He opened his night stand and ate some toothp
aste. He couldn’t stand his breath. He launched himself to his feet as he heard the sound of someone walking down the hall, and opened the door on the first knock. He stood there buck naked in all of his drunken glory, “You shit head. It’s four o’clock in the effing morning.” Matt hung onto the door frame for support. It felt like the ground was moving in gentle waves beneath his feet.
Clay exhaled deeply and said, “Lovely, you’re friggin’ wasted and naked. Put on some damn shorts man. Do you usually answer your door stark naked?”
Ryan chuckled from his bed, “Only if it’s you.”
Matt sat on his bed and tugged on some shorts from the floor. They weren’t his shorts … gross. He clutched his pounding head. “Why are you here at four in the morning? Spit it out.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone? This would have been a lot easier, if you were sober,” Clay said.
Ryan added his comic relief from the other side of the room, “You have to call him before noon.”
Matt laughed, “Scratch that, I was already having sex with a complete stranger by noon.”
Ryan said “Her name was Laura. Don’t be a tool.”
Matt laughed, “What was the other one’s name?”
Ryan chuckled, “Hey, I hit my head or something. I chipped a tooth.”
Matt laughed, “You chipped your tooth opening a beer.”
Clay said, “You need to sober up. Something’s happened. I have to take you home.”
Matt chuckled, “Did Timmy fall in the well again, Lassie. Spit it out.” He watched as Clay’s eyes did not even register the joke. That was pretty funny.
Clay said, “Something bad happened. Go splash some water on your face. We have to get you home.” He walked over to the counter and found a full cup of Tim Horton’s coffee there. He sniffed it, put it in the microwave and set the timer. Clay was microwaving coffee for him, and his eyes were full of tears. He wasn't sure he had ever seen Clay cry before. Not one time. Not even when they were kids. He felt a bit of adrenaline kick in and he became slightly more sober. The microwave beeped and Clay tried to pass the cup to him. He waved him away. If he drank that coffee, he would be cleaning it up off the floor in about five seconds.
Clay ordered, “I will force you to drink this coffee. Don’t mess with me tonight. This has been the worst night of my life. It’s about to become the worst night of your life. I wish I could leave you drunk and pretend this shit didn’t happen, but I can’t. The police are going to be here any minute.”
“Did something happen?” Matt sobered up instantly when his friend said the word Police. Did he do something? His brain began to function. There was an ominous look of agony in Clay’s eyes. He said “You should have answered your phone. I have been calling you all night. I wanted to talk to you before the police did. That’s why I’m here.”
Matt’s mind began to reel with possible scenarios. Police, why were the police coming?
“It’s your family,” Clay’s words tightened in his throat.
“What about my family?” Matt found himself completely sober. He took the coffee out of his friend’s hand and chugged it down.
Clay looked as though he was trying to find the words. Matt prompted, “Was there some kind of accident? Is someone hurt?”
“They’re dead,” Clay said.
“What … who is dead? If this is some kind of prank you are one sick puppy,” he replied, willing a smile to appear on Clay’s somber face.
Clay said, “Your family is dead. You have to sober up. I have to take you home Matty.”
He called him Matty. His sisters called him Matty. They weren’t dead. They weren’t dead. He stumbled backwards and sat on his bed.
“You’re joking,” Matt said again as if repeating the statement would somehow make it true.
“Kayn is still alive, but just barely. She’s in the hospital. I came here to take you to her.”
Ryan was sitting up in bed staring at him. The room was silent. There was nothing but deafening silence, broken only by the humming sound of the light above his head. Adrenaline kicked in and he could finally speak, “Were they in a car accident?” Matt whispered. Matt’s eyes burned into his best friend’s eyes.
Clay said, “They were at home. It was some kind of home invasion, or something.”
Matt sat there stunned. He looked over Clay’s shoulder at the picture of his beautiful sisters that sat in a place of pride on his desk.
Clay said with a shaky voice, “I was sure the police would beat me to you.” He tried to touch Matt’s shoulder, but he recoiled from his friend’s attempt to console him.
Matt shook his head, grimacing. This can not be real. This is not really happening. He heard the hollow sound of footsteps in the hallway and the jangling sound of keys. Matt stared at the door and thought no, don’t you dare come here. Don’t come to my door. If you come to my room, it’s real. There were three loud knocks on the door. Matt couldn’t swallow. It was real. He was sober now. More sober than he had been in weeks.
Clay stood up and looked at him. He said, “I have to get it. It’s the police.” He looked back at him as he opened the door.
Matt rose to his feet with steady legs and followed Clay to the door. He stood behind him. It was one of the school counselors. He was alone at the door. It wasn’t the police. The counsellor appeared to be extremely upset.
He said, “Mr. Brighton, you need to come with me.
Before Clay could speak for him, Matt spoke quietly, “Give me a minute. I will be right down.”
“Take all the time you need. We can wait,” the man said as they quietly retreated.
Matt stood for a second in the doorway. He was still reeling from his best friend’s words. It had been a home invasion or something?
Matt knew he smelled, and his mother hated the scent of alcohol on his skin. He turned and grabbed his shower bag off of his dresser. His mother would not want him to smell like alcohol when he spoke to the police. He was supposed to go home this weekend. It was her birthday. He got drunk and had the opportunity to sleep with someone. He didn’t think it would matter. He’d planned on coming home for her birthday dinner on Saturday night. It had mattered. He had let her down. She had no Saturday.
Clay touched his friend’s shoulder, “Forget about the shower. Nobody will care.”
Matt said, “My mom would’ve cared.” He’d spoken her name in the past tense for the very first time. His heart ached and tears blurred his vision. He blinked them away. She would want him to be clean and smell nice. His mind was only capable of small spurts of rational thought. He held his hand up stating in the simplest of movements that he needed a moment alone.
He maintained his composure long enough to step into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him. He collapsed in front of the toilet with tears burning his eyes. He began to throw up, his chest heaving as his body attempted to rid itself of the poison coursing through it. No amount of vomiting would remove the agonizing poison of devastation that sickened his brain. He had let her down. He should have been at home tonight. He had to sober himself up.
Matthew could almost hear his mother speaking to him softly in his head giving him instructions. She would have told him to try and calm down. Then she would have told him to think about what he needed to do next. He turned on the freezing cold water and let it run for a second. He had been a hyper child. She had said those words to him on an almost daily basis. He stepped into the shower and ice cold water pummeled his skin. He couldn’t fathom the idea that he would never hear those words from his mother's lips again.
The freezing water brought him back to the here and now. He knew what really mattered in this moment. He had to get to his sister, Kayn. She was still alive. He wasn’t sure what he would do, if he lost her too. He began to pray that she would be okay. He had to hold onto the idea of her laugh and her smile. I have to focus on her. She needs me. I have to get to her. Matt walked back to his room and threw some clothes on.
Clay said, �
�You should grab clothes. You can’t go home.”
Matt tossed clothing in his back pack on autopilot. He thought about taking the picture off of his desk and bringing it with him. He stopped himself. They had lots of pictures at home. Confused thoughts ran through his head. Clay said I couldn’t go home. Why? He couldn’t think. “Matt, why can’t I go home?”
“It’s a crime scene. Don’t worry about packing anything else. You can wear my clothes.”
Matt stopped packing. He looked at Clay. It doesn’t matter. He stopped panicking. His best friend had his back.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” Matt said. Clay walked over and held him. Matt shuddered as he stifled a sob. He had to be strong. He had to get to his sister. “We have to leave. I have to get to Kayn. I don’t have time for counselors. I have to get to my sister.”
His roommate Ryan said, “I got this. You go to Kayn. I’ll tell them where you went. You just go.”
“Thank you,” Clay said patting his roommate on his shoulder before they ran down the hallway to the courtyard.
The friends drove in silence. They sped down the highway only to be pulled over almost immediately.
Clay said, “Crap, we do not have time for this.”
An officer leaned down and looked into the window “We suspected you boys were not waiting around to talk to the counselor. Follow us. We’ll get you back to town a lot faster and more safely.”
“Thanks,” Clay stammered.
They were escorted back to town with sirens wailing and whirling bright lights. They arrived at the hospital in half the time it would’ve taken. Matt walked towards the front door of the hospital with Clay at his side. He entered with a whoosh of the front door, and Matt’s eyes met Clay’s parents’ eyes with unspoken gratitude. The nurse at the front desk escorted him away to another area of the hospital.
The nurse said, “You should prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. She has been to hell and back today. Thank goodness you made it. The helicopter is here. She spent the night in surgery. She is one strong, young lady. She’s been stabilized, and is being airlifted to Vancouver. We held the flight to give you a few minutes to say … to talk.”
