by Angela Mack
“He is in a fucking coma! He doesn’t even know what he wants!” My screech echoed around the otherwise silent library. My heart hammered as my hands shook.
“I know he bloody adores you and there is no way in hell he would want to see you like this!” Jess shouted back at me. The librarian jumped out of her seat and began to stalk towards us, but Sophie held her hand up at her. Surprisingly, she stopped, waiting, a mixture of concern and annoyance upon her face.
“He would be so angry with you,” Sophie murmured, her eyes locking with mine.
“Excuse me?” She did not just say that to me.
“Josh would kill to be living your life right now. I might not know him as well as you, but I’m pretty damn sure he would prefer to not be lying next to his brother in a hospital bed. He’d give anything to come back here, to be a normal teenager. And you, you’re moping about the place! You've been drifting around for weeks, like a bloody ghost!” She was shaking. She hadn’t raised her voice even a little though, as if the words she had spoken were part of normal, everyday conversation. I was too shocked to reply.
“No matter what happens, Iz, he wouldn’t want you to be like this. And if you drop out of sixth form, become a drug addict and die at the age of thirty, that twat wins. That shithead that beat Josh and Ryan almost to death wins. And I know one hundred percent that Josh would hate that. And he’d hate you for it too.” Jess’ eyes bugged out of her face, staring at Sophie in shock. Tears flowed down my face, my rage dissipating. She was right, Josh really would hate my guts. He’d be furious at me. Sophie’s eyes welled up and she took a step closer to me, holding her arms out. I hesitated, but soon I was flinging my arms around her, my head buried in her neck.
“I...I don’t know what to do, Soph. It hurts, everything hurts.” She grabbed me in a fierce hug, rubbing my back.
“I know, Izzy. I know.” I felt another set of arms wrap around me.
“We’re here for you, Iz,” Jess smiled at me through her own tears. I sniffed, nodding and taking a step back.
“Even if you have just snotted all over my favourite jumper.” Sophie pulled the neck of her jumper away from her, looking at it in mock disgust before grinning at me. A quiet laugh escaped me as I wiped yet more snot away on my sleeve.
“Sorry." Her smile widened.
"Come on, I'm starving! Let's bunk off our next class and go get a hot chocolate, my treat." Sophie looped her arm through mine and Jess grabbed my other hand.
“Drug addict, huh?” I asked, smirking. The librarian eyed us as we exited, but she didn’t say anything.
“Well, you know...it worked didn’t it?” Sophie laughed. As we walked down the corridor, I made a silent promise to Josh. No matter what, no matter how many times I wanted to give up, I would not let that bastard win. Ever.
Chapter 12
Joshua
I hated Charlie. I hated Big Mike too, but that was nothing compared to how I felt right now. I had not let Ryan out of my sight in, I didn’t know how long. I didn't understand how time worked in this place, but I knew I didn’t ever need to sleep. I didn’t get tired, not physically. Sometimes I found myself staring off into space and then all of a sudden, the sun would come up, but I didn’t need to sleep. Neither did Ryan. Ever since that stupid conversation with Charlie, I had been too scared to let him go off on his own. I made excuses to stay with him all the time. And when he went into our room every morning to listen to Charlie, I waited outside. I didn’t want to hear anything else that traitor had to say. Fucking prick. Why the fuck would he tell Ryan it was OK to give up? It bloody wasn’t OK! Somehow Charlie’s betrayal had hurt even more than Big Mike’s―I had expected more from Charlie.
I was sitting on the floor outside our room, my back against the wall so I could see into it. Ryan was by the window and Charlie was sitting beside his bed, as per usual. If I concentrated, I could probably hear what he was saying, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to listen to his fake declarations of love or concern. Dick.
Instead, I people watched, my favourite pastime now. A male nurse pushed a bed with a kid in it towards me. He had the biggest afro I had ever seen, with eyes that were a little yellow and a very skinny body. He looked to be in good spirits though, laughing at something the nurse said as the bed rolled right through my sprawled legs. I contemplated following them, just to learn what his story was, but my eyes flicked back to my room. I still wasn’t ready to leave Ryan. I huffed, looking around for someone else to distract me.
A woman approached the reception desk nearby. The nurse behind the desk was on the phone, but the woman started speaking as if she couldn’t see that the nurse was already busy.
“Deborah Meadows, I’m here to speak to Dr Owens about the Bugg children.” Great. What was this about now? The nurse glared at her, pointing to the phone she was holding to her ear. Her dark skin made the white of her eyes stand out even more, her seething look making even me flinch. Her long hair was made up of lots of narrow braids, all pulled back into a loose bun at the top of her head. At first glance, you might think she was the cuddly, friendly type of nurse, but judging by the look she was giving Deborah, I wouldn't want to mess with her.
Deborah rolled her eyes, fingers tapping on the reception desk as she waited. I stood and walked over to Deborah, careful to keep the doorway of my room still in sight. I didn’t want Ryan to sneak off when I was distracted.
Deborah began tapping her foot as well as her fingers, shifting her weight from one to the other. Her ponytail bobbed around and the satchel over her shoulder swung with the motion. She was wearing a rumpled skirt and jacket and I screwed my eyes up; she looked like a―
“Yes? What do you need?” the nurse retorted as she hung up the phone.
“I’m Deborah Meadows, social worker, here for Dr Owens,” Deborah repeated, her lips pursing as she finished. I took an instant disliking to her. Not only because she was a social worker, but because she was giving off extreme ‘I am the biggest bitch’ vibes. She was also looking at the nurse like she was shit on the bottom of her shoe.
“Dr Owens has been called into surgery but has left this for you.” The nurse thrusted a file into Deborah’s hands and then started clicking at something on her computer, finished with their conversation.
“But I have an appointment. It’s very important that I speak with―”
“Dr Owen’s has prepared an update on the status of Ryan and Joshua Bugg’s conditions. It’s in the file.” The nurse didn’t look away from her screen, but Deborah seemed oblivious to her bored, dismissive tone. Deborah lowered her voice and leaned over the desk, trying to get as close to the nurse as possible.
“I understand that, but there are things I wanted to ask Dr Owens. Things that do not pertain to Ryan and Joshua’s health, but are still relevant to their wellbeing. To their brother’s wellbeing.” Huh? What was she going on about? The nurse flicked her eyes up to Deborah’s, scowling.
“I’ve heard all about you, Ms Meadows. About how you sneak around trying to dig up dirt on patients and their families”―Deborah reared back as if the nurse had slapped her―“about how you insist on meeting doctors face-to-face, when usually an email would suffice, just so you can ask them questions about the parents or guardians, how they’ve been acting in the hospital, what they’ve been saying…” the nurse stood as she trailed off, folding her arms on the top of the desk and leaning towards Deborah’s face. Deborah was a couple inches taller, but the nurse wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. My face split into a grin. I loved this nurse!
“You will not be using any of my staff here as your spies. And instead of trying to rip families apart when they’ve already gone through a horrific ordeal, perhaps you should focus on preventing what brings them in here in the first place.” The nurse held Deborah’s gaze, unblinking.
“Well, Nurse”―Deborah peered down at the nurse’s name tag―“Westcott, I can assure you that I am not trying to trick anyone into telling me their secrets. I am
simply using all investigative measures to assess whether the children, your patients, are in a safe environment. If they have safe supervision. If you insist on speaking to me in this insolent manner, I will have to report you to my superior. Interfering with an open case would be a grave error on your part.” Deborah folded her arms, looking triumphant until Nurse Westcott let out a bark of laughter.
“You can make whatever threats you want, Ms Meadows, but Dr Owens is still in surgery and will not be talking with you today. And if you can’t see that Mr and Mrs Johnson, who I believe have already been granted temporary guardianship, love those boys as much as their own daughter, then you are blind as well as incompetent.” Deborah was about to snap out a response when Nurse Westcott continued. “Superintendent White is visiting again today. Shall I let him know that you stopped by? That you have concerns about the Johnsons?” Nurse Westcott arranged her face into a beaming smile, waiting for Deborah to respond.
“That er, won’t be necessary,” Deborah mumbled as she shoved the file into her satchel. She looked as if she was about to say more but stopped when Nurse Westcott cocked an eyebrow. Deborah cleared her throat and nodded at Nurse Westcott, before turning on her heels and disappearing down the corridor.
“Bloody stupid idiot.” I laughed as Nurse Westcott muttered a stream of insults under her breath, returning to her computer screen. I turned back to my room and saw Charlie leaving. My stomach lurched. I hadn’t been watching the door for the past few minutes, I was too caught up in Deborah and Nurse Westcott’s exchange. Was Ryan still inside? I hurried over, sagging in relief when I spotted him standing in the middle of the room. He had his back to me with his right hand raised. I frowned, watching as he snatched up the green curtain that was bunched up against the wall. He yanked it across the room, his body in the bed disappearing from view. He turned, jolting as he saw me, my mouth hanging open.
“Did you just...just close the curtain?” Ryan stared at me, eyes wide. “Ryan?”
“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his head. “I er, hate looking at er, myself. With that thing in my head. I look like Frankenstein. I don’t want to be reminded of that day.” He barged past me and I was too shocked to follow straight away. When he rounded the doorway and I could no longer see him, I snapped back into action.
“Ryan? Ryan! Wait!” I scurried after him.
“Josh, will you give me some bloody space? Stop fucking following me around everywhere!” Ryan whirled on the spot; fists clenched as he faced me.
“I don’t want you to―”
“I said I wouldn’t go anywhere, didn’t I? Just leave me alone.” He turned away from me. Should I let him go? What if he was lying and he ran for the exit? What if this were the last time I would see him? The idea of him leaving felt like a punch to the chest. There was so much I still needed to say.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there!” I blurted. He stopped with his back still to me. I coughed, trying to dislodge the words from my throat.
“On Boxing Day, I mean. I am sorry that I didn’t go home with you. I shouldn’t have left you and Georgie alone. I knew he could come back at any moment! I know sorry is nowhere near fucking good enough, but I am. I am so fucking sorry Ryan.” I sank to my knees, the guilt from that day bursting to the surface. I had been so careful to not think about it, to not think about that day. About how it was all my fault. I had packaged the guilt and the failure up in a tiny cardboard box, wrapping it in layer upon layer of cellotape. I then shoved the box to the far recesses of my mind, never to be opened again. But the idea of Ryan leaving without me being able to tell him how sorry I was―no, it couldn’t happen. The fear of not saying anything was enough to shred the box to pieces and let the horrors inside spring out, like a fucked-up Jack-in-the-Box. My failure lurched back and forth, taunting me.
“I know I’ve failed you. I am a complete fuck up of a brother. But please don’t leave, Ryan.” Tears burned a trail down my face, dripping onto my lips and running down my chin.
“You didn’t,” he said, spinning to face me. I looked up at him, not understanding.
“You did not fail. I failed. It was all my fault.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye and instead stared at his feet, scuffing them on the floor.
“Of course it wasn’t your bloody fault! I’m the one who left you there! I should have known better!”
“It was. It’s my fault. I...I provoked him.”
“What are you on about? You didn’t―”
“I did! I DID!” Ryan yelled at the floor. “It’s my fault. I just get so fucked off when he treats us all like shit. I get so angry and I lose my shit.”
“What happened, Ry?” I was afraid of what he was going to reveal.
“He came home while me and Georgie were packing our bags.” I knew I should have walked them home. I always walked them home. But I was in such a good mood and I had thought things were finally going our way. I had felt invincible. Untouchable.
“He started taking the piss out of us, laughing at how we thought we’d found another family to take us in. He said that we’d soon fuck them off, just like we had Mum. They’d soon get sick of us, just like Mum had.” I fucking hated that dickhead. You’d have thought he’d have been happy that we weren’t in his way anymore, but nope. What a cock.
“I snapped, Josh. I started shouting at him. I was swearing and yelling and telling him what a shitty Dad he was, how we’d found a new Dad and a new Mum…” Ryan started squirming, discomfort and embarrassment twisting his face.
“Oh Ryan―”
“I know it’s stupid. I know Sammy and Charlie aren’t our new parents. But I just have this feeling that they really do care about us, you know? I wanted that prick to know that we didn’t need him anymore. That we didn’t give a shit about him either.”
“Come here.” I beckoned him with my hand. He started to shuffle over to me, and I grabbed him, pulling him down to the floor with me. I threw my arms around him, cradling him tight to my chest.
“It was not your fault, Ryan. You know what? It wasn’t anyone’s fault but Big Mike’s. Big Mike is the violent prick who beats his own goddamn children to death. Big Mike is the one to blame, Ryan, not us.” I didn’t quite believe the words I was saying. Obviously, Ryan was not to blame, no matter what he shouted at Big Mike, but if I had just walked them home. If I had been there when he had come home, I could have saved Ryan. I could have stopped the beating, the torture.
“You are an amazing big brother, Josh. You really are.” He peered up at me and I smiled, ruffling his hair. “I have never blamed you for anything, not once.” Ryan looked me straight in the eye and I knew he meant it. For some reason, he genuinely believed that I was a good brother. That I was blameless. It took my breath away.
Chapter 13
Isabel
I approached Josh and Ryan’s room and took a deep breath. I didn’t even know why I was so scared to talk to Ryan, to look at him. Yeah, OK, he looked awful, but why was I so afraid? I was not going to let him affect my life. I had never even met him properly for fuck’s sake! He had done something unforgivable to Ryan and I couldn’t keep punishing Ryan for it. He didn’t deserve to be ignored.
I rounded the corner, relieved when I saw the curtain drawn again. I took a minute to compose myself. I was about to head over to Ryan, but then caught sight of Josh out the corner of my eye. I knew I was stalling; I had planned on talking to him after Ryan, but I edged towards him, nonetheless.
“Hey, er, babe.” I felt awkward. I never spoke to Josh. It felt weird. He couldn’t hear me, and he definitely couldn’t answer back, so it seemed pointless. But in our last session, Miss Lovey suggested that I tried to voice my feelings and thoughts aloud to Josh. That it might help me work through my emotions―cue eye roll. I did feel guilty about going out tonight though, like I was betraying Josh. I felt like I owed him an explanation. Sod it.
“I’m er, going out tonight. With Jess and Sophie. We’re checking out a new bar in town.” I sat down n
ext to him and gripped his hand, like I always did. I shuffled the chair closer, so I was right by his face. I stared at his closed eyelids.
“This feels a little strange, huh?” I laughed nervously. I was so glad Mum, Dad and Georgie had gone to get cake at the cafe downstairs. I had told Mum I was going to try and ‘talk’ to Ryan and Josh today and although she didn’t say it aloud, I knew she suggested they all get cake so I could have some time alone. She looked so proud of me when I'd told her, which was ridiculous. How could she be proud of me for talking to two people who couldn’t even respond?
“Miss Lovey, she’s my er, counsellor at school, suggested I try talking to you. Even if you can’t hear me, she thinks it will help me feel better. So, here I am!” I said, trying to justify my strange behaviour. I laughed again, feeling like a complete moron. Just be yourself. You don’t need to put on an act around Josh. I sighed.
“I miss you so much it hurts, Josh. The doctors keep saying you should have woken up by now. Why are you still asleep, babe? Hmmm?” I squeezed his hand, hoping he would sit up, yawn and stretch, and offer an explanation. He didn’t.
“I’ve been...struggling at school without you. And at home. I feel like a piece of me is missing all the bloody time. Soph had a right go at me on Monday. She said that you’d be pissed at me for moping around the place, when you were stuck here.” I peered at Josh’s face, looking for signs of him waking up. His heart rate monitor beeped steadily in the background, but he didn’t move. I lifted my hand to his cheek, rubbing my thumb back and forth. His stubble scratched at my skin and I closed my eyes, trying to pretend that he and I were having a normal conversation.
Of course I’m not pissed at you. I know it’s hard.
“Yeah, but Sophie was right. I was letting life slip through my fingers, and that’s not fair on you or your brothers. No matter what happens Josh, I promise I will look after Georgie. And Ryan.” I wanted to add ‘even if you don’t wake up.’ Although it would feel like someone was ripping my heart out, I wanted to tell him that I would carry on living. I would do all the things that I wanted to do with him, and I would never, ever forget him. But the words clogged in my throat, as if the back of my mouth was closing up. I swallowed, twice. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud, as if even suggesting that he wouldn’t wake up would make it come true.