Priceless

They say that when you get a flashback of your whole life when you’re dying. But when that car hit me, I saw nothing. Everything just went black and that’s it; nothing.

But before I woke up, I saw that flashback. There were my parents, looking happy as someone took a photo of them with my six-year-old self. There was that time I was crying when I found out Dad cheated on Mom. I saw the time I cried over a scraped knee and Erin calmed me down. Then that time Erin and I fell on the swings, and Trey took care of her broken wrist while Garrett enjoyed staring at my wounded elbows for a few minutes before cleaning them up. I also saw the time I was introduced to The Maine, then A Rocket, and finally, The Summer Set. All the rooftop scenes I’ve had with Stephen played in my mind, and that first time we did it.

I struggled to open my eyes and when I succeeded, the first thing I saw was Erin’s panic-stricken face. She quickly walked towards me when she saw I was awake.

“She’s awake! Call a nurse! Beep that thing!” she quickly exclaimed, and it took a moment for Trey to do that. Then she touched my IV-free hand and said something I was unable to hear, because everything suddenly started spinning and my eyes fell close.

The second time I woke up, it was only my mom in the room and Erin. They were talking in shushed voices on the corner of the room, but I was able to hear a few parts.

“….that boy near her…never…”

“But…happy…and the…”

“Mom?” I croaked out. I don’t know how, or why I did that, but I was able to and the moment I let the word out both she and Erin turned and rushed to my side.

“Bails…”

“Erin, would you be a dear and call the nurse?”

I was still heavily drugged but I could fight the drowsiness and that was what mattered. As Erin walked out of the room to alert the nurses that I was awake, I turned to my mom and let tears fall out of my eyes.

“Mom, I’m sorry…”

To be honest, I didn’t know why I was apologizing, as if the accident was my actual fault. But my mom just hugged me, and in a sweet voice I haven’t heard since I was a kid, she told me she had taken care of things. I meant to ask her about the conversation she and Erin were having earlier, but then the nurse and the doctor came and I was practically interrogated about what happened and how I was feeling—after which, I was told to rest, which was bullshit since I’d been resting for like forever, but I didn’t have a choice or else I would be drugged again.

I stayed at the hospital for a few more days, having no visitors at all except my mom and Erin, which baffled me at first but then Erin explained to me that Mom had reiterated that no one else was allowed and I were to be left alone until I was clear to go home.

No words about Stephen were ever mentioned from either of them, or even me, but I was dying to know how and where he was. The last conversation I had with him was in no way pleasant, but I missed him. It killed me that he wasn’t with me as of the moment, but I was positive I couldn’t do anything about it.

The drive home felt the longest I’ve ever had. I sat on the middle, between Erin and Mom, and just felt blank. The fact that I almost died more or less traumatized me, but I was more hung up on what would happen after all this. Mom and Erin asked me questions, but it was as if I was on auto-pilot; I couldn’t process what they were asking and what I was answering. My mind was just on one thing. Or one person, rather.

“Are you sure you want to be left alone, Bails?”

I glanced up from my bed, having no memory of how I got here, to Mom, who stood by my door, looking actually concerned. I simply nodded, and just like that, the door closed and I was alone.

I realized I could do one of two things: lay there and think of everything I wanted to say to Stephen, or call him right then and there. My mind dictated the first, but my gut ignored it, reached for my phone, and dialled his number.

“Hey, I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m either drinking, playing on stage, or doing something else that requires me to be away from my phone or put it on silent. Leave me a message.”

I tried a few more times, but voicemail was all I got. I tried to muster up the strength to leave a message, but this was all I could come up with:

“Stephen. It’s Bailey. Where are you? I want to see you, I…miss you.”

My message literally had that pause between the words I and miss which was utterly embarrassing. But I managed to shrug it off, and call his brother.

There was no answer as well.

I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but it was annoying. Throwing my phone to the floor, I laid on my side and that’s when I noticed it: a small box placed atop my study table, which hadn’t been there before. I stood up and walked to it. Sitting on the swivel chair, I grabbed the box and opened it, my heart beginning to race when I saw what was inside.

Stephen’s copy of Damien Rice’s O record was in there. I could tell it was his because of some markings, but that was beside the point, because there was a note inside. I took that piece of paper folded in two, and opened it. As soon as I read what was inside, I already knew what was coming. I didn’t even have to wonder why the record was there, I knew it was because of a particular song.

I read the note over and over again, my heart breaking each time, because I knew he had given up.

You deserve someone better.

That was all it said, but those words were all it took for my world to come crashing down on me.