We Used to See with Wide Eyes

It was unusually wet that day.

So many tears.

Even the sky was crying alongside us, fat raindrops plummeted to earth for hours, making it seem as if the world was grieving our loss. Only I wasn't crying. Just numb.

For awhile I sat there in the silence trying to make sense of it, but the raindrops lashing against the diner glass held my attention now. My hitched breathing was the ugly overture to the impending thunderstorm. But everything was ugly.

Carla was dying as I sat there.

And what bothered me the most is not how angry I was about Carla, but how I was angrier that Brendon was missing. I had no reason. No call. No nothing as to why Brendon left me alone or why I haven’t talked to him in two weeks.

I was right not to tell him anything, I don't need his false front of friendship and care. I don't need those kind of people in my life.

But how could he leave me by myself in a time like this?

How could he not be here when Carla dies? If he doesn't care anything about me, whatever, but what about being here for Mac? Selfish bastard.

Last time I saw him, he gave no sign that he would be gone. None.

He is the one person who I can talk to. And over the past couple months its become quite apparent that he is the kindest, genuine and self giving person that I have ever met. He's my first friend in a very long time. And he left. Gone.

They all leave.

A particularly large flash of lightning cut across the sky, followed immediately by a clap of thunder that I could feel in my bones.

Seeing that they were heading up to the counter, I clenched my teeth in an attempt to smile at the last customer of the day. It was only four, but I was closing up, unable to keep up the façade any longer.

"Have a nice day," the woman replied as I handed her her change, stealing my line.

I grimaced, another attempt at a smile, "You too."

And with that, they were all gone and I was alone with my grief but the shrill ringing of the diner telephone started, only to be drowned out by an enormous clap of thunder.

I dragged over to where the phone was and shakily grabbed it, fearing the worst, "Hello?" I said, my voice unusually hoarse.

"It's me," Mac's gruff answered; "I have some bad news."

I scrunched my eyes together and tried to make my mouth work, "What?" I croaked.

"She had another seizure. And… and she's slipped into a coma."

I dropped the phone, my fingers weren't working. This hit too close to home. I sank back into the barstool that was luckily located next to me. I stared, feeling dead, at the phone until some part of my brain realized that a voice was still coming out of it.

Reaching down my fingers clumsily grasped the smooth plastic of the phone.

"Parker?" said Mac's urgent voice, "Parker? Can you hear me?"

"Oh Mac," was all I could manage.

"I know," he sighed wearily, "I know."

"What's –" My voice cracked and I swallowed, "Mac, what's gonna happen?"

"They said," he choked out, "They said that if she doesn't come out of it tonight, she won't ever. And she told me once, back before, that she would never want to live like that. They don't think she…" he couldn't say any more.

I closed my eyes, but didn't say anything.

"I – I have to go, I just wanted to… to tell you."

"Bye Mac," I whispered.

There was a click, and then the dial tone. And I sat there with the phone against my ear until the automated message told me to hang up and dial the number I wished to call. I set it back on its cradle, above the old fashioned part where you had to move the circle thing to choose your number; I forget what they're called.

Unsure of what to do with myself I drifted through the diner, cleaning up here and there.

Why did this always happen to me? The people around me don't deserve to always be hurting and dying. The others that I loved didn't deserve to be constantly grieving. Why was I always the one who made it out? Why was I always the one left behind?

Suddenly my knees quivered and collapsed. I shut my eyes in anticipation of the impending memory, but when I opened then the same tiles where inches from my face, along with a straw someone had discarded. From my throat came a rasping and rattling noise and I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to stop the trembling that came from deep within my skin.

Harsh dry sobs ripped from my chest. I couldn't cry. I haven't had the strength to truly cry since I lost him. Only one silent drop here and there had left my eyes. And with tonight that hole in my heart only grew. And no matter how tight I clutched my legs to me, that hole wasn't getting any fuller.

But what made my heart hurt the most was how utterly alone I was.

I was so lonely.

Time blended together as I huddled there on the cold tiles, my limbs not responsive enough to move. If I had been truly conscious and of sound mind I might have realized that I was having a small panic attack, but after awhile the trembles turned into more natural shivers of cold. And the wheezing quality in my breath quieted.

I think I slipped into blissful unconsciousness after the sun went down, although it was hard to tell when that was because the sky was already dark and stormy. The driving rain and claps of thunder were my harsh lullaby.

I woke to the feeling of a warm embrace and the ground moving away from me.

My eyes fluttered open and immediately as the unsympathetic sunlight struck my sleepy eyes. I squeezed them together again and waited to sleep again.

"Parker," someone sang in a pleasantly smooth voice, "Parker, wake up."

I felt myself being lowered again onto a much softer surface than the tile, but the warm figure was letting go. So I hugged tighter, still half in dreamland.

"C'mon now," said the voice softly and reluctantly I let go, and let myself be set down.

It wasn't until I heard a familiar giggle-like-chuckle that my eyes flew open.

"Brendon?" came my strangled voice.

I sat up. Another giggle.

He was there. Standing in front of my. Hip pushed to one side, with that cocky expression on his face. His dark eyes were wide with innocence, like he was a small child who had just played a trick.

"Hey, doll. Did you miss me?" he said smiling wider.

As happy as I was to see him, I was furious beyond belief.

I stood up and made a move to go around him, but he caught me by the shoulders and tried to catch my eye, "Hey now, what's the matter?"

I tried to shrug off his hands, "Brendon, let go."

"Ok," his hands slid off but returned when I turned to the door, "Wait, where are you going?"

I shoved off his hands and looked him full in the eye, "I'm going home."

He honestly looked perplexed, but I didn't care. He was the last person I wanted to see right now. I walked to the door and had one foot out the door.

"But wait –" he started.

I spun around.

"What Brendon Urie?" I cut him off venomously, "What the hell do you want?"

He flinched as if I had just slapped him, "I don't understand," he said, the hurt laced heavily in his voice.

I marched up to him and jabbed a finger in his chest causing him to stumble back, "Do you have any idea what it's been like the last week?" I choked, "Any idea?"

"No," he said, alarm written all over his face.

"Well," I spat, "It's been terrible. But you weren't here to know that. Were you?"

"Parker," he said almost pleadingly, "What's going on? Why –"

"Carla is dying," I stated coldly. I wanted those words to drive straight into his heart so he could start to contemplate how much pain I was in. I wanted him to hurt just as much as I did. And I felt horrible for wanting him to feel that way.

"What?" Brendon asked disbelieving, sitting down heavily on the edge of the booth I had just vacated.

"She will be gone tomorrow."

"Why?" he asked gingerly, afraid of the answer.

I looked at the floor, unwilling to look him in the eye and see the grief welled up in them, "Seizures put her in a coma. She'll never wake up. They'll take her off life support in the morning."

It was then I realized my voice didn't sound cold, it sounded lifeless. I couldn't muster up any emotion and more. I was tired. I could feel it in my bones. I knew that these past months have been just a small distraction from how tired I was. I just wanted to be done with people and the tears that they took out of my already tattered heart.

I heard a ragged sort of sound from his direction that made my dead heart wrench a little more when I knew I couldn't stay here with him without shattering into a million pieces. And so I ran to the door, leaving him behind as I tried to force the air out of my constricted lungs.

I ran from the one person who had a chance of helping me put myself back together again.