Watch You Take The Fall

“Hello?” I asked down the phone, slightly sharply.
“Hello, is this Sierra James?” A nasal voice responded.
“This is she, can I help you?”
“I’m sorry Miss James, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is Danville Regional Medical Centre.”
“Oh. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Questions were racing through my brain at the speed of the cars alongside the moving bus I was aboard. I only knew one person living in America that would have me listed as a contact, Pat. My breathing quickened as I remembered his out of character actions, and how different he had seemed.
“No, I’m sorry, it’s not okay. Your brother, Pat James, has been taken into intensive care.” And that was it. That was the sentence I never wanted to hear, the sentence that brought my entire world and stability crashing down around my shoulders, leaving it in broken pieces on the floor. But still, it was intensive care, he was going to make it through, right? Everyone has a chance, and he had more fight in him than anyone I’ve ever seen. If anyone was going to fight through against the odds, it would be Pat. No, Pat would be fine. He would make it through, he had to. Even so, the words struck me like a tonne of bricks. I stumbled backwards, almost as if they had had physical impact, until my back hit the wood of the bunks behind me.
“Intensive care? S-so he’ll be alright, yeah?” My tone was laced with nervousness and anticipation. I just kept repeating over and over in my head that he would survive, he had to.
“I’m sorry.” That was all it took. At that, I slid to the floor, phone gripped weakly in my hand that I somehow managed to keep to my face. My world was falling to pieces, and I didn’t feel like I was doing any better. The fragments of my life had been ripped into tiny scraps and scattered into the wind. Pat wasn’t supposed to leave. It wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was so fucking strong. He was my big brother. He was ought to stay and look after me, things weren’t supposed to happen like that. It’s not how it’s meant to go. How dare he be taken so young? He had so much life left to live, so much he wanted to do. Unfair was an understatement.
“W-why? What’s happened? How long left until- well, you know?” I couldn’t say it, I couldn’t get the words out to ask properly how long left they were giving my brother. It seemed so harsh, so clinical to say it out loud. It made the whole thing so real, something I was trying in vain to avoid.
“We’re keeping life support going until you manage to get here, which I assume you will? And, I can’t tell you much over the phone; it has to be done in person. However, I can tell you that we presume that this is self-inflicted. In other words, suicide. I’m so sorry. Please tell reception when you reach the hospital and you can see him right away. Once again, I’m sorry.” And with that, the receptionist hung up the phone. My mobile slid from my hand and I assume it made a clunk sound on the floor, however, I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t hear anything and my vision was going in and out of focus. The only words I could fully grasp were “suicide”, “self-inflicted”, and the worst of them all “sorry”. As much as her condolences were appreciated, they were falling on deaf ears. No amounts of “I’m sorry” could ever mend that gap that was going to be there when the turned off the life support. As soon as they flicked that switch, I was losing my best friend, my brother, the only one who kept me sane the majority of the time. I was losing so much more that someone with some of the same genetic coding, I was losing practically my entire life.
I rolled onto my side, not on purpose. I wasn’t in control of my actions. My mind had shut down, leaving my body on auto pilot. I could only watch as Jack and Vinny stumbled from the back lounge, laughing loudly and pushing at each other. Only my eyes were seeing as they stopped and stared at the broken mess of a person on the floor. I couldn’t do anything but observe silently as they dropped down to my height to talk to me, to check if I was okay. I could only see their mouths yelling for help as I began to shake uncontrollably. I didn’t feel anything as I was lifted from the floor and carried to the front room that I had just left. I watched as Matt looked up from his paperwork and promptly dropped his water all over everything. I couldn’t feel anything but the silence that my mind had provided for me. I was only vaguely aware of the hands shaking me, and someone pulling them off. I assume that they all tried to give me some space by sitting at the opposite end of the room, but space wasn’t what I needed.
I don’t know how long passed before my hearing finally returned and my vision wasn’t the only thing I was aware of. I could suddenly hear the quiet murmurings of the people around me, my name being dropped in conversation once or twice. It wasn’t surprising really, after all, I had just been found catatonic on the floor of the bunk room. I stood up from the sofa suddenly, having to grab at the back of it to steady myself. All conversation in the room stopped abruptly as I opened my mouth to speak.
“I need to get to Danville. Now.” My voice cracked from not being used, from the pent up emotion building inside of me. We were in Charlotte; Danville wasn’t technically all that far away but it felt like it would take light-years to travel the necessary 3 hours.
“Sierra, what’s going on? First Jack and Vinny find you practically passed out on the floor in the bunk room and now you’re saying you have to get to Danville? What’s happening?” Came the always worried tone of Matt. I didn’t feel I could tell him. It’s not that I was ashamed of the position I was in, I just didn’t want to explain it. I was doing my utmost to pretend like it wasn’t real, like I was going to wake up from this like it was a horrifically realistic nightmare.
“Let’s just say, Matt, there’s someone I care about deeply in Danville that I need to get to as soon as possible. I don’t have a choice in the matter, I need to be there. How can I get there quickly?” A frown grew across his face as I vaguely explained my predicament. He clearly wasn’t happy with my lack of detail, as a tour manager you savour all the detail you’re given.
“We’re passing through, it’s our next stop. We have a hotel night, the bus driver needs a break.” He informed me, no doubt still trying to work out just what the hell was going on. I nodded at him before beginning to gather up the crap that was lying about the front room. Arms already feeling weak, I stumbled into the bunk room and started packing. This was not the way it was supposed to end.