by V. F. Mason
She was considered the angel of the group. She was always kind and nice, never did a wrong thing nor partied much. She preferred to read books and watch movies, aside from writing songs for us. She was behind every hit we sang, and God only knew where she got her inspirations from. She had long legs and a great ass, but was rather skinny compared to the rest of us, though everyone knew how much she loved good food. She loved leather jackets and pants, and preferred to ride a bike. She had chocolate-brown eyes and black hair, which was styled into a bob cut. Her skin was slightly darker than Sam’s and in my opinion, gave her vibrant features. Sometimes people called her the “Plain Jane” of the group, and that pissed us all off.
She wasn’t into the whole bang-after-show thing, but she never judged us for something we liked.
“Girl, you need to get laid.” While before she was smiling, her face closed off and she frowned. I glanced at Ariel and Sam, who shook their heads, clearly not wanting me to push it. Jane was the good one, meaning the virgin. She was waiting for that special guy who would walk in and make it all better for her. She believed Prince Charming existed. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“Bella, let it go.” I ignored the warning in her voice; actually, it was the constant point of contention. Didn’t she feel the adrenaline rush? Didn’t she need to let go sometimes?
“No, seriously! You are twenty-two years old. How much longer can you wait? When the right guy comes along, he’ll hardly be a virgin, you know. Why not have some fun in the process?” Seemed fair to me.
“I don’t expect anyone to be anything more than they are. Bella, look, I never judge you and the girls for your choices, because they’re yours. Let me have mine, okay?” She gave me a hard stare and I looked down, because this was the one point she always used when we argued. It was true; I was being judgmental, but I just couldn’t get it.
Wanting to find love? Yeah, okay. I didn’t want it, but I could understand it. Dreaming of that special someone who can be like no one else? Sure, why not? Waiting for them and saving myself for that special guy while he probably fucked everything that moved? No, thank you. Such bullshit! But I had to let it go, because oddly, she didn’t seem in the mood.
“Okay, so the concert went well. I hope we raised enough money for the kids. Hope Jer is happy. He was going crazy over this performance. Like we ever had a bad concert.” We all nodded. Jeremy was our manager, and he could be quite demanding. But we didn’t really care as long as we had shows to perform and used our talents. We owed it to him for everything we had.
We were all rich, had millions of dollars, and owned several properties. Not bad for our ages and considering where some of us came from.
“I have several songs I want you guys to look at and decide what we can work on.” Although Jane wrote the songs, Sam and Ariel were the ones who created the music, and I would give inflection and life to the words. It was the whole band’s process.
“Sure, we can start working on a new album soon.” Before that, we needed to take a break. I mean, we loved each other, but a break was a necessary not to kill one another.
Suddenly, the door crashed open, making us jump and drawing our undivided attention. Jeremy stood there, pale. He scanned the room before his eyes fixed on me. My heart lurched at the sight of regret and pain in them.
“Hey, girls,” he said, and swallowed. “Annabella.” There was something off about his voice. It was usually cold and husky. Now it was detached, as though he was making an effort to speak.
“Yeah?” To say I was confused was an understatement. He never ignored the rest and just addressed me, and right at that moment, I didn’t like it much. Something was wrong but I tried to ignore the churning pit in my stomach.
Nerves, it was just nerves.
“Nick—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish. Thank God, he was probably worried my brother wasn’t here and I would make a fuss about it. In the past, I did. I never wanted to perform without him, but with time, that changed, so I relaxed.
“No worries, Jer. Nick called me when he was on the way. He’ll be here soon.” I flashed him a smile, but he remained silent as he stared at the floor, as if he were bracing himself. Finally, his eyes hit mine once again, determination blazing brightly.
“Honey, there was an accident.” Everything and everyone froze as fear flashed through my body. “A car travelling at a high speed experienced mechanical issues and Nick never had a chance of getting out of the way.’’
I blinked.
I didn’t react at all.
Then the words came crashing back at me.
Car.
Accident.
Speed.
I jumped to my feet, my forgotten water bottle falling to the floor and spilling all over the carpet.
“Is he in the hospital? What’s taking you so long then? Let’s go!” The girls rose too, but they didn’t make a move for the door. They stood around me as I tried to do everything in my power not to panic. Why was no one listening to me?
“Honey, he died on impact. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t hear his last words. Silence consumed me as if I were alone in a soundproof room. I zoned out, our childhood flashing through my mind—him making me toast and saving me from our parents, him believing I had talent and cheering from the crowd.
My brother was gone? This couldn’t be. Oddly, I stayed calm.
“It must be a mistake. You probably heard something wrong. We need to go to the hospital. That’s where they would take him, right? Let’s go!” I grabbed a jacket, but Jeremy held me steady in front of him. I struggled in his grip, but he didn’t let me go.
“Bella, he’s gone.” What was wrong with him? I had to go see Nick and prove how ridiculous what he said was. Or heard. Or whatever it was that made him think Nick had died.
“No, you’re wrong. Nick would never leave me. Let’s go to the hospital.”
“Honey, I don’t think—”
“Jer, let’s take her to the hospital.” Sam’s firm, yet trembling voice, penetrated through the haze in my mind. I glanced back at my girls, who all had tears in their eyes, their expression conveying something I didn’t want to see.
Wrong, all of them were so wrong.
We rushed inside the limo, avoiding the reporters, but I didn’t see anything around me. I needed to get to him, see him, make sure he was alive. We would even laugh at this situation once he was okay. On the way there, I didn’t pay attention to the beauty of the city. New York was gorgeous at night; in fact, it was more alive at this hour. Taking a walk at this time of night was an amazing experience that other cities simply couldn’t provide.
At least for me, but I was biased.
We should make sure to go to our favorite bar with Nick once this mess with the accident was over. Seriously, jokes like this weren’t funny, like at all. I squeezed my hands inside one another and didn’t bother to talk—or look at, for that matter—to anyone. I think they sensed it, because no one came close to me.
Finally, we arrived and I rushed inside. I saw no point in waiting on anyone. At the reception desk, there was a young man standing nearby and a lady who was deeply engaged in a phone call. Based on her scrubs, she was probably a nurse and she was busy with a phone. I decided to go with the doctor. Maybe, if I were lucky, he would be the one who treated my brother.
Crazy, I know.
“Hello. Can I ask you if you had a patient? Nick Hastings? He’s my brother.” Thanks to my lucky star, my driver’s license was with me in my back pocket of my pants, and I showed it to him. An odd look crossed his face, but he grabbed something that resembled an iPad and checked a few things before shaking his head.
“There isn’t a patient by that name,” he replied.
I grabbed his arm and insisted.
“Are you sure? There was an accident with some truck and they told me he was here.” Technically, no one told me shit, but I guessed that’s how the procedure went.
He frowned, then typed something on his
device again, and in a second his face grew darker. There it was again. Those eyes that held sorrow. He took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. Yes, we admitted the body several hours ago. I just didn’t know you asked about the body. He died on impact from head trauma.’’ Since I hadn’t let go of his arm, my grip tightened painfully, but he didn’t do anything to make me let go. I tried to keep calm, but how could I if everyone kept on telling me my brother was gone?
I heard my people rushing to me, but the doctor paid no attention to them, his whole focus was on me. He was young—shit, too young. Maybe he was new and messed something up? Stuff like that happened all the time, right?
“It must be a mistake.” I squeezed his arm tighter, if that was possible. Now even I felt the pain of my actions. Physical pain was good, way better than the one I was about to experience.
“I’m sorry.” My hand dropped at his desolate tone. Sam tried to hug me, but I pushed her away. I didn’t need anyone’s hugs. I wanted my brother to show up and let me know it was all a goddamn mistake.
He was a hero! Heroes didn’t die!
“Show me. Where is he?” He shared a look with Jeremy, and they came to some silent agreement.
“Miss, I don’t really think—” I raised my hand and shook my head.
“Don’t think. Show me.” My voice was cold and hard, and I had no idea how I could still be so calm after the shit he’d just said to me.
“Come with me.” We went through never-ending corridors and elevators, but all I did was pray it was someone else’s body. After all, mistakes like that happened all the time.
I felt bad for wishing for someone else to be there; that person was probably someone else’s family, too.
But I couldn’t help it.
Finally, we stopped at a huge gray door and the doctor took a deep breath.
“Are you ready?” I nodded; of course I was. It was all a mistake. When we went inside, I spotted the body on the table and swallowed, but didn’t budge. The room was straight out of some kind of horror movie---silent, detached, and the sound of buzzing echoed through the room. The chill sank into my bones, and I rubbed my arms uselessly. The drawers on the wall looked like large safety deposit boxes. The morgue attendant slid one open and motioned for me to come closer.
After slowly pulling the sheet away from the body, he stepped aside. My hands covered my mouth trying to hold in the scream; my rapid heartbeat almost seemed to create a vacuum of feelings inside me, while my head shook from side to side. The gasp that escaped me almost sent me to my knees.
The body was covered in purple bruises. A huge bloody wound on the head made his hair stick up. There was a deep gash on his cheek and a cut on his lip. His eyes were closed, but that wasn’t what scared me.
He had a tattoo above his heart with two initials entwined; the same one I had above my heart, too.
Our tattoo.
“Nick,” I whispered. Leaning down, I touched him, but he was so cold.
Unrecognizable.
I tried to shake him, but he didn’t move and his skin wasn’t soft; it wasn’t pleasant to the touch.
Where was the warmth I was used to?
“Come on, Nick, open your eyes. Please open your eyes, Nick. Don’t leave me!” No matter what I said, nothing happened. He was dead. My brother was dead. Gone. I heard the loud screams and didn’t realize it was me until my throat hurt. Suddenly, there were strong arms around me and I struggled to get away from them. Someone was pushing me away from the table, from Nick, but I knew I just had to wait him out and he’d wake up. He always woke up when I screamed.
My protector.
I just needed to keep on screaming for him to hear me.
Monsters, Nicky!
Please come and take away the monsters that are slowly creeping inside me.
“Let me go. Let me go!” But the arms didn’t, and after some time, I laid numb in them because I had no strength left in me to fight. Someone scooped me up in their arms and took me away from the cold, gray room where my brother was lying.
I stared at the doors that were slowly fading away from me as I waited, waited, and waited for Nick to run toward me and make it all better, as he always did.
My screaming became nothing more than a low, hoarse cry.
He didn’t come.
That was when I closed my eyes and let go. I didn’t want to know or feel anything.
Numbness and darkness were my only salvation.
“I’m afraid,” I tried to whisper, but failed miserably. I could never keep my voice down.
“Don’t. Hun, it’s just a school. I’ve been doing it for three years now and see, I’m not afraid.”
Nicky was older and had way more life experience than me, but I wasn’t impressed with the whole school thing. He had homework and did it at night after he made sure Daddy and Mommy were asleep.
There was good stuff, too. Sometimes he brought home food in his backpack, and that made me happy.
“I have no friends.”
“You’ll find one there.” This didn’t make me feel better either, because no matter how much I tried, other kids just didn’t like me. They called me names, and school was probably worse.
“Hey, look at me.” He raised my chin with his finger, and I looked in his eyes, which were exactly like mine. “You’re a good kid, munchkin. What’s not to like about you?” He took something from his pocket and gave it to me. “Look, I got it for you. Saved up something from the grocery shopping money.” It was a trinket with a small, pink teddy bear that was so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring at it. “He’ll bring you luck. He’ll be there with you when I can’t be, okay?” I nodded, and he took my hand and we entered the school bus together. He sat me down with him and joked with his friends for a moment before giving a friendly push to a kid with glasses, who was deep into his book. “Hey, Ryan, what’s up, man?”
The boy looked at him and smiled. “Nothing much, just reading.” His gaze then moved to me and I saw the prettiest blue eyes. He smiled shyly and I felt myself blush. “Hey there.” Before I could reply, I was interrupted.
“Hey, Ryan, you nerd! Give me your notebook. I didn’t do my homework.” This voice was mean, just like its owner. I didn’t like that. Mean people made me afraid. I moved closer to Nick, my protector.
The boy tensed and blushed red, but said nothing and his hand went inside his backpack to take out what they asked for.
Oh no! It was like he couldn’t stand up himself if needed.
“Stop,” Nicky said, and then turned his head to the mean boy. “Do your own homework, Ben. Stop picking on the new kid.” I didn’t know exactly what was happening, because it was the first time I was there, but the mean boy backed off right away and didn’t bother the nerdy guy.
It seemed like Nicky had authority.
“Thank you,” the boy whispered.
“No problem.”
That was my Nicky---protector of the weak.
I hugged the trinket closer to me and closed my eyes, because no matter where I was, he would always be with me.
That was my lucky trinket.
Annabella
Present, five days after Nick died
The weather was beautiful with a perfect sun and no rain in sight. There was a slow wind making the heat bearable. The grass, trees, and flowers were blooming, and it was almost a perfect picture for the beautiful artistic paintings Ariel loved so much. Birds were twittering and nature was having a good day.
Such a beautiful day for such a horrible occasion.
I stared at the body in the coffin while one of his coworkers gave a speech about how great he was; at least, that’s what I thought he was saying. I wasn’t listening to anything anyone said. The church was small, but lots of people came. I didn’t invite anyone. I had no idea who took that matter into their own hands and thought about all the details, but I didn’t care. I had no desire to plan such stuff anyway. So whoever did it, had my blessing to do whatever the fuck he o
r she wanted.
It was almost a week since he was gone, but I still couldn’t believe it and didn’t want to accept it. Even now, I was waiting for him to wake up and come to me.
Megan, his girlfriend, was sitting numbly with her parents, who comforted her. She tried reaching out to me, but I refused to talk.
The girls and Jeremy sat next to me looking worried, as though they expected for me to burst into tiny pieces at any moment.
Whatever.
I just wanted for the whole thing to be over with, so I could go to my room and fall asleep. It was all I did lately, sleep. At least it gave me some time to forget and let the oblivion take over. I could dream he was still alive. I went through his accident all the time, looked at the reports, and there was even a video from a road camera. My brother’s car was crushed by another. The other driver had lost control of the steering wheel, which led to the accident. They said it was no one’s fault, it was mechanical failure, and everyone was sorry.
I heard the other guy made it out and was alive.
His car was at fault, yet he was the one left to live.
I guess he was lucky.
His car killed my brother. What was fair about that?
How was I supposed to live with it? There simply was no escape from any of it or the pain. Was there anything to numb it?
I hated my dress, too, which was fucking itchy and black. Nick hated the color black, but had to deal with it as I was into rock and well, there was a lot of black in that lifestyle.
I would never wear anything black again and would burn this fucking dress, too.
Sam gently touched my arm, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Babe, you’re next,” she said softly, and I looked at her with confusion. What exactly did she mean by that?
“At the podium. To say good-bye.” By the look of her, she hated to say this to me, but she probably had no other choice. I didn’t want to give a stupid speech. I hadn’t even prepared one to begin with. Everyone looked at me expectantly, and I rose from my seat and trudged up the stage. There was complete silence. I came closer to the body, but didn’t feel like touching it. He was cold, and the Nick I remembered was always warm.