Lessons Learned

Would it sound too much like some corny story plot thought up by two immature teens with way too much time on their hands, if I told you that when I was recovering in a three day drug induced coma that I dreamed I was in a dark room? And that in this room was photos of my life hung up on display on a crisscrossing clothesline strung haphazardly about the place?

There were pictures that I remembered; others that I didn't. People with faces I could place, and strangers who must've meant something to me at some point in life but had been forgotten. Captured moments of holidays and shots of my many firsts- my first tooth, my first day of school, my first carnival ride- all worthless but memorable to me.

Reaching out to touch the photo of a pigtailed girl of seven who'd been my best friend until she moved away, my eyes had slipped from one photo to the next. Lifting up a Fourth of July collection I found a door with "You Decide" scrawled on it. The door was locked, but the key was hung upon the knob just waiting to by turned.

Taking it in my palm I didn't know what lay on the depths behind the wooden barrier, but I had a feeling that I could be happy if I went through it. My worries and problems would disappear once and for all.

But as I was inserting the key I heard someone calling me back. It was faint, barely audible and could've just been my imagination hearing what it wanted to hear. Except it wasn't. Standing there I listened to the voice and recognized it as Vias's.

"Parker damn it don't you dare die on me."

His voice was calm, with a hint of warning as if by my dying he'd make me regret leaving him. On the fringes of his words though were concern and fear.

"Come on, you'll be okay."

It was tempting to ignore him and just go in.

But I couldn't bring myself to give up on life.

There's too much I hadn't done, and friends I'd rather live for than leave behind.

*^*^*

So as we sit in the hospital room, me trying to improve my now somewhat lacking motor skills now and Vias giving encouragement when sensing I'm about to give up, I wonder what's going to happen to me.

My mom and Lance are gone for now, maybe off on a road trip to no where, and Vias's asked me to temporarily move in with him. He's reasoning for doing so was just, "Until things blow over." Little does he know that it's not that simple. Her anger never blows over, it just gets worse. And there's going to be hell to pay when they get back.

But I'll worry about that when that bridge comes.

Focusing on contracting my fingers around the green ball that's supposed to help me recover, I mutter shit when it slips through my fingers. Bouncing on the ground Vias easily grabs it and holds it out for me to take it. Folding my arms I look away like a child, embarrassed that I can even do a simple thing on my own anymore.

"Come one just once more?"

Clenching my teeth I shake my head.

"No."

From the corner of my eye I see him place the ball on the edge of the table and rise. Stretching he says unfazed, "All right. I'm going to go grab a bite to eat, want me to grab you anything?"

Sighing frustratedly I mutter, "the usual."

When he goes I try for the too many-th time to pick up the ball again, but it's impossible. Angry I use every ounce of control I have and hit the ball with my arm. Watching it as it reflects off the wall and bounces three times on the floor I spit, "Fuck you."

Leaning back in my bed I close my eyes and wallow in my pity pool. Can't even pick up a ball, spoon fed food like a baby, hate raised voices and any kind of physical contact… Too bad my memory is still in tact. Maybe this would all have been easier if I didn't remember everything so vividly...

What's going to happen to me?