Don't Forget

I slammed the refrigerator door behind me as I clenched onto the carton of orange juice I’d retrieved. I slammed it down on the kitchen counter as Oliver watched each one of my movements calmly from the other side of the room. His arms were crossed and lips curled into a cruel smirk. It took everything for me to fight back these tears.

“Yeh leavin’?” I managed to compose myself to ask as my shaky hands poured me a half glass of juice. I screwed the cap back on the bottle and set it to the side, not touching my cup.

“Aye,” he spoke calmly. He truly was as heartless as the rumours told.

“There a reason yeh’re leavin’ me?” I finally sputtered out as I let the first tear fall. “Am I not as good as the girl’s yeh fuck behind my back? Don’ like the same music or movies? Wha?”

He shrugged as if he was bored and I was an inconvenience. “Jus’ wanna. Already told the mates’ yeh were leavin’ to go live with yer brother or somethin’. Yeh got one day to pack.” He held up a single finger and twirled it in the air as he spun on his foot and left me alone in the room. The front door slammed and I allowed my world to crumble around me.

~~~~

The beeping was deafening. I wanted nothing more than to tear apart all the machines around me from the moment I awoke. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I knew damn well where I was and exactly what had happened.

Scott had barged into the emergency room holding my body that I was convinced had just moments left to survive. He screamed and hollered at the receptionist along with anyone else delaying my treatment. All the events after that had blurred into a collage of doctors, needles, drinks, and barking orders. I had passed out physically but my mind had continued on, watching my body below it. I watched the activated charcoal fail and the crew move onto gastric pumping. I witnessed them nervously operate on me, knowing that if one mistake was made it could cost me my life.

And now I was stuck on this damn bed without the strength to open my eyes. I heard breathing next to me and felt a hand resting on mine. I would have tried to move it, but it was comforting. In the world I was forced to view now it was nice to know I had a link outside of my mind. I tried to mumble something but the groggy state I was in was fading too slowly.

“Never again,” a pathetic voice spat to himself. I recognized it as Scott. I used every ounce of strength I could conjure to react to him, but all I could manage was a small squeeze of his hand that he probably didn’t even notice. “I’ll never lie to yeh again. I’ll never leave yeh again. Jus’ be okay.” His voice shook through his struggle to fight back tears. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel the fear and pain radiating from his presence. A single sob rose up in my throat but couldn’t escape. My heart was breaking all over again for the agony I’d apparently dawned onto Scott. But nothing could have prepared me for his next sentence. “I love yeh.” It felt like my heart had literally stopped beating.

My mind raced in the silence of the next few minutes. I needed my eyes to open, I needed to be aware that this couldn’t have been Scott, but had to have been my brother and I was just feeling my high wear off. I peeled my eyelids back just enough to want them shut again as the white walls loomed around me. The television was on but muted, and other than the beeping of everything around me Scott was crying softly. Not the kind I have when I’m upset or angry, but the type of crying I did after I lost something important to me. I used that as my motivation to ultimately pry my eyes open fully.

Scott was hunched on a chair beside the bed with his forehead resting on the bed beside my arm. His hand still grasped mine firmly. His disheveled hair was stuck up in random places from where I’m assuming he pulled it in worry. He was still whispering things to himself under his breath.

“If yeh die then I can never make wha’ I did right,” he continued. I furrowed my brow and painfully adjusted my position so that my neck would stop cramping.

“Scott,” I managed to speak so softly that I’m surprised his body flinched at my voice. “I’m ‘ere.” He didn’t move. I know he heard me, but he refused to budge.

“Yeh’re awake,” he said obviously, maneuvering his hands to wipe at his eyes. “I-uh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For wha?” I asked curiously.

“Please don’ be mad. Jus’ promise me tha’.”

“Scott I won’ be mad,” I reasoned reassuringly. “But wha’ are yeh talkin’ about.”

He slowly raised his body so he was sitting erect, not allowing my hand to leave his. He had begun to squeeze it tighter as if he’d never touch me again. His head remained hung low, but I could see from the angle I was at that he didn’t have the comfort of his glasses anymore.

“Look at me,” I told him, more of a demand than anything. He lifted his chin but kept his gaze low until he finally held enough courage to lock eyes with me. They were deep brown and filled with sorrow. They were familiar. I knew those eyes; I could never forget the first thing that made me fall in love with…

“Oliver?” I choked out in fear. It had to be the drugs. I had to be crazy. There was no way.

“It’s me,” he confirmed with a small nod.

“But,” I choked out. Tears fought to fall over my swollen eyelids. “No.”

“Calm down,” he said sternly, reaching for my hand again. I pulled away so harshly that I felt the IV dislodge a bit in my arm. I hissed in pain and held my other wrist to keep my hand occupied. “Yeh need to be calm. Yer ‘earts weak.”

“How?” I spoke. “Oli…Oli isn’t yeh! It can’t be! ‘e was chubby and yeh’re skin an bones. He was full of life and yeh…yeh look dead!”

“Chris,” he started. I released my wrist and connected the palm of my hand to his cheek forcing a loud slap to echo throughout the room.

“’e didn’ ‘ave any tattoos,” I continued as I attempted to scoot away from him though I was hooked up to many machines meant to monitor my heart. They weren’t doing their job because my rate had to have been through the roof. “Black hair. Long hair. ‘e was short! Yeh’re just lyin’ again!”

He sighed and bit at his lip, chewing so hard that he drew blood. He used the sleeve of his jacket to rub it away before his gaze landed on me again. I refused to meet his eyes. I could never forget Oliver’s and I didn’t want to be proved wrong again. “I came ‘ere to make things right,” he stuttered, clearly unsure of what to say. “I fucked up by leavin’…I couldn’t handle it. I grew; it happens. I got tattoos. I admit, I tried my ‘ardest to look nothin’ like I used to. I couldn’t look at tha’…tha’ fuckin’ child in the mirror anymore.”

“Another lie,” I spat, rolling my eyes up to the ceiling. He wasn’t allowed to see how badly he’d hurt me. I’d told him everything. Oliver had known nothing of the severity of our break up and I wanted it to stay that way, but now he knows everything.

“I ‘ad to,” he countered. “I’d never get a chance. No way in hell, and yeh know tha’. I’m so sorry, Chris. Yeh ‘ave no idea ‘ow sorry I am.”

“Leave,” I said venomously, daring to meet his eyes again. I watched any hope he had left drain and disappear from his body. He pursed his lips tight and nodded in understanding.

“More than anythin’ I’m jus’ glad yeh finally got the apology yeh deserve,” he concluded as he rose to his feet in defeat and dragged himself to the door. “Feel better. Yeh deserve all the good in the world to come yer way.”

Then he left. Oliver had left for the second time, but this time it was because I said so. I should have felt a sense of accomplishment, but this was indescribable. I cried so hard that nurses had to rush in and calm me, and when that didn’t work they forced a mild sedative into my bloodstream.

“Five minutes yeh’ll be asleep,” the one who I’d assumed was the main nurse told me. “Yeh’ll be nice and relaxed.” The door sharply opened, startling everyone in the room as four other grown men barged into the room. Unfortunately, I knew exactly who they were. “Yeh can’ be in ‘ere righ’ now!” the nurse shrieked as she attempted to order them all out.

“Chris,” the first spoke. It was Matt Nicholls, the “Matt” Scott…Oliver, had called that night we had played that drinking game. “Yeh can’ end it this way.”

“Please for Oli’s sake,” Lee said next, completely disregarding the stressed nurses dialing for help. “e’s an awful wreck now. ‘e’s different, ‘e’s changed.”

“And he fuckin’ loves yeh,” Matt yelped in his defense.

“’e did this all to himself,” I spoke calmly as my energy began to drain. Had five minutes passed already?

“Yeh’re the last bird ‘es even thought about! ’e’d do anythin’ for yeh!” Matt’s words were the last thing I could make any sense of before I was out cold.