In This Madness...I Lost Control
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-Brian’s POV-
I have been drinking pretty heavily all night, but it’s only because I’m stressed. Alcohol seems to numb the pain and make me forget about all my troubles. Sure, that is probably the pussy’s way of dealing with shit, but I could really care less.
“Dude, you really need to slow down on your alcohol consumption. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to drive yourself home tonight,” Zacky said to me after I downed my seventh…yes, seventh beer in the past two hours.
“Zack, I can take care of myself, thanks. I’m not just some five-year-old kid, and you’re most definitely not my babysitter,” I snapped at him in return. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to be a good friend and help, but seven beers to me is like a bee with honey; it’s nothing to write home about. I’ll be fine in an hour or so,” I said in a sympathetic and sincere tone once I realized what I’d said and how harsh it sounded.
Two hours have passed, and though I’m still buzzing, I’m not drunk anymore. I’m just going to go home, get some rest, and try to keep my mind off everything. I know Zacky doesn’t want me to get behind the wheel… in fact, I know he’d kick my ass just to keep me from it, but considering he’s passed out on the couch, I’m pretty sure he’ll just have to find time to hate me for it later.
-Jimmy’s POV-
Michelle and Brian broke up about a week ago because she felt like she was being pushed aside with all the recording and interviewing Avenged have been doing for the upcoming self-titled album. She simply gave him the ultimatum of being with her, or continuing on with the band…lucky guess as to which he chose.
He’s been acting weird lately, even for him. He’s been irritable, and it’s almost like he’s mad at the band for his relationship falling apart. We’ve all tried our best just to be there for him, and comfort him as much as possible. Although, I must admit, that’s easier said than done when the person you’re trying to help gets pissed off at you for helping.
“Brian, I’m worried about you. You really need to stop drinking and driving,” I said to him as he headed for the door with his car keys in his hand. I knew I should have tried to stop him, but I was too drunk myself. He also seemed more sober than anyone else here, so even if I had tried to get his keys, no one would have been able to drive him home.
“I’m fine, Jimmy. It’s only a twenty-minute drive from here to my house. I am sober enough to walk in a relatively straight line, unlike yourself, and isn’t that part of the field-sobriety tests they give you if you’re pulled over for driving under the influence,” he stated in a reassuring tone.
Perhaps if I were sober, they wouldn’t have sounded so reassuring. However, for the time being, it worked for me. I nodded to him, signifying my retreat, and out the door he went.
Within ten minutes of Brian leaving, I lied down on the couch along with Zacky to try and sleep…only to be awoken by my cell phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID and it said “Unavailable”. I was hesitant to answer it at first, assuming it was probably some telemarketer wanting me to sign my life away just to get a free cookie, but something in me told me to answer it.
-Johnny’s POV-
I overheard Jimmy talking to someone on his phone, and usually I would be respectful and not eavesdrop, but Jimmy’s voice sounded worried and upset. I listened more, and heard only one side of the conversation.
“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling? What happened? Is he okay? Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you, Dr. Monroe,” Jimmy said in a frantic tone as he hung up the phone.
“Hey, Jim, who is Dr. Monroe?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“He’s the doctor on call in the Intensive Care Unit at Huntington Beach Hospital…” he stated; his voice overflowing with concern and nervousness.
I cut him off before he could continue, “Huntington Beach Hospital? What the hell is going on?”
“Johnny, it’s Brian. He drove home tonight, and I knew good and well that he was too intoxicated to drive, but I didn’t stop him. And now, because of my stupidity, he’s lying in a hospital bed in critical condition,” he said while tears welled up in his eyes.
“Oh, my God. You go ahead to the hospital. I’ll wake everyone up, and we’ll meet you there...” I paused, then proceeded, “do you think Brian would want Michelle to be there, or should we wait to see how things turn out before calling her?”
“I don’t know. I know she’d want to know, but she’s part of the reason he’s where he’s at right now, so I don’t know if Brian would be too thrilled having her there. But, maybe if you do call and tell her and she does show up, maybe she’ll reconsider their relationship,” he said as he grabbed his leather jacket and left.
I took it upon myself to contact Brian’s parents and Michelle. She sounded upset, but I don’t think she was sure if she should show up at the hospital either. She wanted to support Brian, but given the circumstances, she was unsure what he’d think if he woke up with her at his bedside.
Once I contacted them, I started waking up everyone else. Matt, Valary, Leana, and Lacey were all woke up fairly easily. Zacky, on the other hand, was a bit more trouble, but he finally woke up, and off to the hospital we went.
The desolate city streets just added to the overwhelming tension and eeriness of the night. The car ride was relatively silent, despite a few words along the lines of ‘I hope he’s okay’ being spread throughout the beginning of our journey. I think we were all wondering what and how it happened, and were worried about his current condition.
-Jimmy’s POV-
After receiving the phone call from Dr. Monroe and informing Johnny of what had happened, I drove as quickly (and safely) as I could to the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to think about what happened to Brian. I mean, I knew he was in a car wreck and was obviously badly injured, but I couldn’t make myself imagine what he felt or was feeling when he hit the tree.
Once I arrived at the hospital, I went immediately to the ICU and asked a doctor I found roaming the hallway where I could find Brian Haner, Jr. He informed me that he was Dr. Monroe, and that Brian was in Room 284. I asked if I could see Brian, but instead of the answer I was hoping for, Dr. Monroe told me that only family members could see him right now. I even told him that I was James Sullivan, the one he had called, but even that didn’t allow me entrance to Brian’s room. I accepted my defeat, and made my way to the waiting room. By the time I made it to my destination, the gang had arrived and was waiting patiently.
“Can we see him?” Val asked when I approached the corner they were all occupying.
“No. Dr. Monroe said that only family members were allowed to see him at this time. When his parents arrive, they can give us permission to see him, but until then, we have to sit here and wait,” I said in a somber and depressed tone. They all nodded their heads in understanding.
When Mr. and Mrs. Haner arrived, they were taken to Brian’s room. A few moments later, Brian Haner, Sr. came back to the waiting room and told us we could go see Syn. We followed Mr. Haner to the room and one by one we made our way into the small white room; each of us taking a seat either in a chair or on the floor.
One at a time we went over to Brian’s bedside. He was unconscious, but we talked to him anyway. I apologized to him for letting him leave the house in the condition he was. I felt horrible. I was probably the worst best friend he could have possibly chosen, and now both of us were paying for it.
As I was going back to sit in my spot on the floor, I heard him whisper something in a raspy and strained voice. I couldn’t understand what he said, so I asked him to repeat it. I felt horrible making him talk again because it sounded so painful, but it was obviously something important enough for him to want to tell me.
“It’s not your fault, Jim. I would never blame you for any of this, and you know I love you, man,” he repeated.
I felt tears escape my already bloodshot eyes. “I love you, too, Syn. You’re like a brother to me.”
As I finished my sentence, I looked at one of the machines that sat next to his bed. The constant beeping that rang through the room suddenly turned into a long and ever-present loud tone. The spiked and bumpy line that had been there, suddenly turned into a flat, straight line. He was gone forever.
I have been drinking pretty heavily all night, but it’s only because I’m stressed. Alcohol seems to numb the pain and make me forget about all my troubles. Sure, that is probably the pussy’s way of dealing with shit, but I could really care less.
“Dude, you really need to slow down on your alcohol consumption. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to drive yourself home tonight,” Zacky said to me after I downed my seventh…yes, seventh beer in the past two hours.
“Zack, I can take care of myself, thanks. I’m not just some five-year-old kid, and you’re most definitely not my babysitter,” I snapped at him in return. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to be a good friend and help, but seven beers to me is like a bee with honey; it’s nothing to write home about. I’ll be fine in an hour or so,” I said in a sympathetic and sincere tone once I realized what I’d said and how harsh it sounded.
Two hours have passed, and though I’m still buzzing, I’m not drunk anymore. I’m just going to go home, get some rest, and try to keep my mind off everything. I know Zacky doesn’t want me to get behind the wheel… in fact, I know he’d kick my ass just to keep me from it, but considering he’s passed out on the couch, I’m pretty sure he’ll just have to find time to hate me for it later.
-Jimmy’s POV-
Michelle and Brian broke up about a week ago because she felt like she was being pushed aside with all the recording and interviewing Avenged have been doing for the upcoming self-titled album. She simply gave him the ultimatum of being with her, or continuing on with the band…lucky guess as to which he chose.
He’s been acting weird lately, even for him. He’s been irritable, and it’s almost like he’s mad at the band for his relationship falling apart. We’ve all tried our best just to be there for him, and comfort him as much as possible. Although, I must admit, that’s easier said than done when the person you’re trying to help gets pissed off at you for helping.
“Brian, I’m worried about you. You really need to stop drinking and driving,” I said to him as he headed for the door with his car keys in his hand. I knew I should have tried to stop him, but I was too drunk myself. He also seemed more sober than anyone else here, so even if I had tried to get his keys, no one would have been able to drive him home.
“I’m fine, Jimmy. It’s only a twenty-minute drive from here to my house. I am sober enough to walk in a relatively straight line, unlike yourself, and isn’t that part of the field-sobriety tests they give you if you’re pulled over for driving under the influence,” he stated in a reassuring tone.
Perhaps if I were sober, they wouldn’t have sounded so reassuring. However, for the time being, it worked for me. I nodded to him, signifying my retreat, and out the door he went.
Within ten minutes of Brian leaving, I lied down on the couch along with Zacky to try and sleep…only to be awoken by my cell phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID and it said “Unavailable”. I was hesitant to answer it at first, assuming it was probably some telemarketer wanting me to sign my life away just to get a free cookie, but something in me told me to answer it.
-Johnny’s POV-
I overheard Jimmy talking to someone on his phone, and usually I would be respectful and not eavesdrop, but Jimmy’s voice sounded worried and upset. I listened more, and heard only one side of the conversation.
“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling? What happened? Is he okay? Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you, Dr. Monroe,” Jimmy said in a frantic tone as he hung up the phone.
“Hey, Jim, who is Dr. Monroe?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“He’s the doctor on call in the Intensive Care Unit at Huntington Beach Hospital…” he stated; his voice overflowing with concern and nervousness.
I cut him off before he could continue, “Huntington Beach Hospital? What the hell is going on?”
“Johnny, it’s Brian. He drove home tonight, and I knew good and well that he was too intoxicated to drive, but I didn’t stop him. And now, because of my stupidity, he’s lying in a hospital bed in critical condition,” he said while tears welled up in his eyes.
“Oh, my God. You go ahead to the hospital. I’ll wake everyone up, and we’ll meet you there...” I paused, then proceeded, “do you think Brian would want Michelle to be there, or should we wait to see how things turn out before calling her?”
“I don’t know. I know she’d want to know, but she’s part of the reason he’s where he’s at right now, so I don’t know if Brian would be too thrilled having her there. But, maybe if you do call and tell her and she does show up, maybe she’ll reconsider their relationship,” he said as he grabbed his leather jacket and left.
I took it upon myself to contact Brian’s parents and Michelle. She sounded upset, but I don’t think she was sure if she should show up at the hospital either. She wanted to support Brian, but given the circumstances, she was unsure what he’d think if he woke up with her at his bedside.
Once I contacted them, I started waking up everyone else. Matt, Valary, Leana, and Lacey were all woke up fairly easily. Zacky, on the other hand, was a bit more trouble, but he finally woke up, and off to the hospital we went.
The desolate city streets just added to the overwhelming tension and eeriness of the night. The car ride was relatively silent, despite a few words along the lines of ‘I hope he’s okay’ being spread throughout the beginning of our journey. I think we were all wondering what and how it happened, and were worried about his current condition.
-Jimmy’s POV-
After receiving the phone call from Dr. Monroe and informing Johnny of what had happened, I drove as quickly (and safely) as I could to the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to think about what happened to Brian. I mean, I knew he was in a car wreck and was obviously badly injured, but I couldn’t make myself imagine what he felt or was feeling when he hit the tree.
Once I arrived at the hospital, I went immediately to the ICU and asked a doctor I found roaming the hallway where I could find Brian Haner, Jr. He informed me that he was Dr. Monroe, and that Brian was in Room 284. I asked if I could see Brian, but instead of the answer I was hoping for, Dr. Monroe told me that only family members could see him right now. I even told him that I was James Sullivan, the one he had called, but even that didn’t allow me entrance to Brian’s room. I accepted my defeat, and made my way to the waiting room. By the time I made it to my destination, the gang had arrived and was waiting patiently.
“Can we see him?” Val asked when I approached the corner they were all occupying.
“No. Dr. Monroe said that only family members were allowed to see him at this time. When his parents arrive, they can give us permission to see him, but until then, we have to sit here and wait,” I said in a somber and depressed tone. They all nodded their heads in understanding.
When Mr. and Mrs. Haner arrived, they were taken to Brian’s room. A few moments later, Brian Haner, Sr. came back to the waiting room and told us we could go see Syn. We followed Mr. Haner to the room and one by one we made our way into the small white room; each of us taking a seat either in a chair or on the floor.
One at a time we went over to Brian’s bedside. He was unconscious, but we talked to him anyway. I apologized to him for letting him leave the house in the condition he was. I felt horrible. I was probably the worst best friend he could have possibly chosen, and now both of us were paying for it.
As I was going back to sit in my spot on the floor, I heard him whisper something in a raspy and strained voice. I couldn’t understand what he said, so I asked him to repeat it. I felt horrible making him talk again because it sounded so painful, but it was obviously something important enough for him to want to tell me.
“It’s not your fault, Jim. I would never blame you for any of this, and you know I love you, man,” he repeated.
I felt tears escape my already bloodshot eyes. “I love you, too, Syn. You’re like a brother to me.”
As I finished my sentence, I looked at one of the machines that sat next to his bed. The constant beeping that rang through the room suddenly turned into a long and ever-present loud tone. The spiked and bumpy line that had been there, suddenly turned into a flat, straight line. He was gone forever.
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