Dimensia Read online

  DIMENSIA

  By: Steven Thornton

  Editors: Dieter Jacobs & Daniel Bales

  Art: Jason Chaney.

  Copyright 2008 Steven Thornton

  Published by Steven Thornton

  Dedicated to the living memory of

  Raymond Earl Busha & Louise Thornton.

  Raymond Busha: Papa (1928-1999). The best road grader operator/fisherman in all the world! He taught me that with hard work, success follows. Honestly, he taught me most of what I know. I spent the best years of my life sitting by his side on the dusty back roads of Oklahoma. A God-fearing man, he loved his neighbor and he loved his gospel music. He was the best man I have ever known, and I can only aspire to someday compare.

  Louise Thornton: Grandma (1943-2003). To this day, the truest artist I have ever met. She never needed recognition for her many talents. She spoke to me beyond the grave, telling me to get my act together. She always encouraged me to push the envelope; to look beyond what is seen with the naked eye; to follow my dreams, no matter how big or small they may seem, regardless of what anyone else says.

  The ones I have spoken of are my angels. They are my wings! Most cannot see them, but I do, and I speak with them often. They're always with me, and I will never forget them. To those of you with lost loved ones, this is their dedication as well. We must never forget those who have passed. Whether or not you know, they are not too far away.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Dimensia

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About the Author

  Dimensia

  This writing will be my testimony, meant not for personal gain. My disposition is to share my experience, and to clear myself of the stigma folded into my responsibility. This responsibility! Your responsibility! I haven't always been so pessimistic towards people. Recently, I enjoyed all the human qualities of life but took for granted what once was. As the days grow into night, everyone I once loved are now but memories hidden somewhere in my mind. I vaguely remember laughing at a funny joke or being overcome with emotion to cry. It sounds pathetic I know, but once you have seen what I have perhaps you shall feel the same. With this in mind I shall proceed with my testimony, which takes place some years back in the heart of Missouri.

  Chapter: One.

  This is how I envision a nightmare to begin, or end:

  A junior in high school, I had recently moved from my Dad's to live with my Mom. I was another statistic and product of a disjointed, dysfunctional family. It was the last day of school, and summer was around the corner - I couldn't wait! Typically I earned good grades, I had a job and a modest car. Life was exactly as it should have been, great!

  I had a best friend named Chance who was on the shorter side, and somewhat stocky. He had his labret pierced, (or la-brett, the piecing below the bottom lip) along with his brow. He maintained medium-length brown hair, and took pride in being a ladies man. With a reputation of being charming and rebellious, when we hung out things happened, some good, some bad, but all the same, things.

  "Yo squirrel nuts. I got invited to this bonfire party at Joey's house tonight," he said with a smile, eager for my response.

  I wasn't much of a partier, but felt I could appreciate a fun night out, especially on the last day of school. Naturally, this piqued my interest.

  "We're leaving around nine and you're going, I don't care what you say." Chance cunningly said.

  "Snap. I hear Raquel will be there," as he winked, he slugged me in the arm as he often did. Cunning!

  To bring you up to speed, Raquel was a freshman and the love of my life. The only problem was that her parents weren't hip to the idea of her dating an upper-classman. For those thinking I robbed the cradle, or perhaps categorizing me as some sort of pervert, allow me to explain: when you live in a small town your options are limited and two to three year's difference, well, is appropriate. I just wished her parents had shared this philosophy. Anyway, I had the opportunity to see her at the party, so with little hesitation I agreed to go.

  "Cool. Pick me up at eight so we can pre-game," Chance said. With a smile he grabbed his book bag and left.

  As the final bell echoed throughout the halls, it was as if a flood of animals in a stampede rushing toward the nearest exits, drooling and scampering to escape from the predators who had kept us caged. Walking toward my car I felt the sun warm against my skin, heard birds chirping from nearby trees, and saw clouds seamlessly floating overhead. Needless-to-say, I was excited for what was to come: summer. Tonight. Raquel.

  On the drive home I called my Mom at work to ask if it would be okay if I went to Joey's house that evening for a weenie roast. I wished I could have told her the truth, but the truth is a bonfire tailgate party would have been a deal-breaker. After a little convincing and charm on my behalf I got the green light, and like a duck on a June bug: it was on. I hurried home, eager to begin my daily chores which included emptying the dishwasher, cleaning my room, feeding the dogs, and babysitting my kid brother and sister.

  As I pulled into our driveway I could no longer deny the kindling excitement. I pulled into my parking spot and remained in my car, absorbing all the thoughts that were running through my mind: 'this summer is going to be great. No school for three months. Raquel.' Hearing the bus come down the road and brake to a stop, I turned just in time to notice my brother and sister exit it and run toward our house. I turned to grab my backpack for the last time of my junior year, and stepped out of my car. I ran to the house and beat them inside.

  I retired my bag under my bed for the summer and engaged in my daily chores. In the early afternoon my Father returned home from work, as did my Mother half an hour later. As I hopped into the shower to prepare for the evening, Mother had begun preparing supper. Fast forward:

  "Slow down there Pedro," my Dad offered as I piled the food into my mouth.

  "Dad, knock it off." I replied, once I swallowed. Mother laughed as I continued to shovel the coal into my steam engine. Once finished I asked to be excused and proceeded to get dressed for the evening. Shortly thereafter, I said my farewell to the family, hopped into my car, and was off to Chance's house.

  I began to drive while fumbling through radio stations, seeking something other than country music. Not to say I don't like country music, but when that's all you have to listen to sometimes it can become redundant. Redundant, I decided to plug in my iPod. With my windows rolled down and blasting Cloud Control, I felt the cool summer breeze as some loose papers I had in the back of my car hovered about as the breeze had influenced them to do. Gaining momentum for the evening, the sun was vanishing into the distant horizon. The trees in passing swayed from left to right, with elegance and grace, contentedly. Excitement within surged as I anticipated seeing Raquel.

  I wanted to get a jump on the evening and began rehearsing conversations as they may or may not present themselves. Minutes later, I arrived to Chance's house and made my way down his quarter-mile dirt drive. Beginning to gain speed in my car, I imagined myself as a racecar driver. I tried not to let the dust from the road catch up to my car, or any imaginary cars pass. Arriving at the finish line (in front of Chance's house) the crowd cheered. Waiting for the dust to settle, having learned in the past the hard way tha
t had I opened the door immediately, a cloud of dirt would have consumed me. It wasn't more than thirty seconds (or thirty-fifty heartbeats) until the dust had settled, and I headed for the house. Just as Chance's dogs came barreling toward me, excited and with ears tall, tails wagging, and tongues dragging on the ground. I bent down to acknowledge each of them with a loving pat, and ruffled their hair. Staying the course, arriving at the welcome mat, I knocked on the door and waited for Chance to appear. Seconds later, I could hear footsteps walking towards the entrance of the house as the doorknob slowly turned. Standing before me was Rita, Chance's Mom. Well, for a Mom, Rita was hot. Besides that, we had our differences. She, standing in the doorway, expressed a smirk of discontent, glaring, as if trying to read my mind. A kind of awkward silence developed and to be honest I felt uncomfortably awkward.

  "Is Chance here?" feeling annoyed that I had to ask. Chance entered from the side, nudging his Mom back.

  "Dude, my bad," Chance said while rolling his eyes.

  "I need like two minutes to finish getting ready, cool?" Leaving the question suspended in midair like cigarette smoke in a Las Vegas casino.

  "Yeah man, all good," I said confidently.

  I entered and grabbed a seat on a sofa in the living room and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing. An episode of TMZ played on the television and I sat for a few minutes watching and was mildly amused. Moments later Rita entered from her bedroom, smiling deviously and settling into the love seat across from myself, folding her legs beneath her delicate frame.

  "What do you guys have planned this evening," she asked, folding her arms in her lap. Logic would lead one to believe that Chance would have told her Joey's house but one can hardly be certain of anything.

  "We're going to Joey's for a weenie roast" I said. Pleased with my response, Chance emerged with a toothbrush in his mouth, a bright red face, and eyes bulging from his skull. Rita stood, becoming suddenly serious. Chance, being the ultimate planner he is, had told her we were going to a movie. A movie? Really? The last day of school, summer break . . . let the inquisitions begin.

  Well folks, if you haven't gathered I should tell you that Rita thought I was a bad influence, which I found ironic because I was pretty confident that Chance was a bad influence on me. Understand, I am not entirely innocent of the accusations. However, one can't hear the conversations behind closed doors. To drive the point home, in a Mother's eyes, the flaws elide their children. I couldn't help but laugh at the situation, which only adds insult to injury, as Rita demands Chance downstairs. Drawing from the passionate patter of her footsteps, I formulated a troubling resolution. Seconds later, Chance entered the living room and released a sigh of aggravation. He appeared unenthused and overwhelmed, then turned and proceeded downstairs to his pending but eminent doom.

  After ten minutes of waiting in suspense, Chance appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a smile and giving me two thumbs up. More than ready to go, I stood and headed for the door.

  "I have to be home by midnight for lying, and can't stay the night at your house," Chance breaking the silence as he rolled his eyes, clearly upset. Mostly because he wanted to stay out later than midnight and to spend the night at my house, or at least say he was (wink). At this moment, a dark cloud formed above my car as we departed the vortex. En route to the party we made a quick stop at a local Casey's general store and snatched up a can of SKOAL, Long Cut Straight. Although neither of us liked to dip, we did because we could and because it was the cool thing to do.

  Shortly after, we arrived at Joey's house and found parking. If the view of mini- skirts, tank tops, and cut-off shorts was any indication of the fun to be had, we were in for a blast! Every girl from freshman to last year's graduates was accounted for. From the car, we started walking down the beaten path and could hear the music from the street, a good half-mile away. In a sudden motion, Chance took off running and yelling,

  "I love summer!" I couldn't help but laugh. That's why we were best friends; I liked his high energy and spirit.

  The sun had hung its hat for the day, as noise from the party ushered the night. The smell of fresh-cut grass overwhelmed our sense as fireflies flashed their love light as twilight approached. Realizing summer was official.

  Well, the bonfire turned out better than a forecaster could have predicted. Joey had gone all out from couches around the fire, to a DJ, to kegs. I had only had beer a couple of times and wasn't a big fan. I thought it tasted like horse piss. But it was summer, and everyone was drinking and having fun, so I jumped in. After all, who am I to judge? In what seemed like no time, the party grew huge. I waited nervously and continued scanning the party people with hopes of finding Raquel.

  Like an insect compelled by a light, I stood in line for the keg. When I felt someone tap me on the shoulder from behind, as I slowly turned and there she was. Everything came to a staggering halt. Lights, music, everything seemed to stop. Why, how? It was irrelevant. With the fire blazing, her beautiful hazel eyes reflected the lawless flames. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail while a few loose strands dangled in front of her face. Her hair had some curl to it, which I have to admit, I liked. Wearing a pair of cut-off shorts, flip-flops, and a Lynyrd Skynyrd tee shirt, I was rendered unable to overlook her body, which was kizane. (Killer + insane.) Glitter sparkled like diamonds on her upper chest, reflecting the flames, or was it the fire inside of me? Raquel hardly ever wore make-up, but would often throw some eyeliner into the mix, which I found to accent her sparkling eyes. She looked amazing. She looked beautiful. I searched for my voice, but it had abandoned me in the moment. A moment developed unlike any other I had experienced in my seventeen years of life. At this moment, nothing in my life or in my orbit mattered. Not care, nor sorrow; nothing, but everything. She, us, WE, came to light. Feeling my eyelids weigh as the picture came to a close, my mouth salivated, I swallowed and inhaled a sweet breath, feeling a calm serenity spread throughout my body. As I opened my eyes, the picture gained focus as the chaos resumed its predictable falsehood.

  "Are you from around here?" I nervously asked, unveiling my unguarded emotion.

  "Actually, I'm in town visiting my grandparents, and uh . . ." as she laughed, seeing her cheeks rosy red, apparent somewhat embarrassed.

  "Are you looking for a boyfriend, because I am interested in the concept of a semi-serious summer girlfriend? I normally don't do this, but I can make an exception. You know, since you're not from here and all, my name is Fisher," as I extended my hand. In like fashion she reached out, gently placing her manicured fingers in my palm. Her fragrance demanding immediate attention, resembled a sweet smell, like blossoms of flowers, if that is possible? Feeling awkward, I laughed, hoping to mask my attraction.

  It was such a beautiful starlit night, and everyone was carefree. As the night played on, Chance made his rounds. I talked to everyone but focused on Raquel, most moments were a drunken blur. At one point midway though the night, Chance pulled me aside, and handed me a condom.

  "You don't know what you're missing out on bro," Chance said with a smile, possessing a mischievous look in his eyes. At the time, I was a virgin; he always made fun of me, and called me gay, because I hadn't had sex yet. Reluctant, I took the condom from him, placing it safely in the front pocket of my jeans. Consequently, all of a sudden felt really nervous around Raquel.

  "What's the matter?" she asked, sensing the vibe. Gun-shy, practically sweating bullets, I tried to play it off like a cool guy, and shrugged my shoulders.

  "What are you doing later tonight?" I asked, hoping that those were the words that came out of my mouth.

  "Oh, I'm going to this bonfire party, and hope to see this guy I am kind of, maybe, sort of, interested in. Other than that, nothing much," Raquel replied with an exuberant smile.

  "I am staying at Jennifer's house tonight," she said, with her eyes sparkling, raising her ri
ght brow, smiling with a hormone-raged grin.

  "You should come over, her parents are out of town." No sooner than the words fell from her lips, thundered in my ears, causing my palms to sweat, sending my heart into hyper-speed race mode.

  "Okay," worried that I jumped, or said it too soon, too excited. Not-to-mention the delivery; was it like, OH-kay. Okay? Or, oh..k?

  "Cool. I mean, I'll see if I have any plans and get back to you." I replied staggering back, placing my hands in the lining of my pockets, looking around the party and not wanting to appear obvious that she smote me. Then, became aware of Chance calling out my name from across the party. Scanning the faces I knew by name, I located him stumbling towards us, fifteen yards off.

  "What are you two love birds doing?" he asked in drunglish (drunken English).

  "Well, I'm going to roll tootsie." Chance said, swaying from left to the right.

  "I'm going to Meredith's house tonight," as he winked, attempted to slap me in the arm, but missed, wide. Grinning, feeling a buzz from the poison,

  "Dude, aren't you supposed to be home by midnight?" I posed, not wanting to kill his buzz. Glancing down at my phone, as I zeroed in, realized it was eleven-thirty.

  "Yeah right, I'm also not supposed to be drinking," as he raised his beer like one displaying a trophy.

  "I'm not worried about it. Leave the worrying up to me." Oddly, with his delivery, I found the needed reassurance.

  "Who's driving you to Meredith's man?" I asked, seeing him stumble, clearly unable to operate any type of machinery.

  "Jacob is, don't worry wart. He is driving him. Jacob hasn't too much had to drink," still uncertain how we understood him, we laughed and watched him stumble off in drunken stupor. A smiling Meredith stood patiently on the other side of the fire, awaiting her knight in shining armor.

  Not long after Chance left, we also decided to leave as the party had begun to fizzle. Raquel and Jennifer decided to abandon their cars, as I asserted that I was the least inebriated among the involved. Headed to Jennifer's house, fortunately for me, only a couple of miles from the party. As I began to drive, blasting Group Love, feeling the beer creeping up faster than one might anticipate, everything in focus seemed out of focus, delayed, and blurred. I resorted to close one eye, which seemed to help. One or three-mailbox's later, I asserted that I probably should not be driving. Thankfully everything worked out.

  When we arrived at Jennifer's house we realized she was three sheets to the wind. Actually, I had never seen someone so: faded, twisted, loaded, sauced, falcon-punched, crunk, skullied, pie-eyed, cloaked out, crocked, juiced, shnockered, hamboned, zonked, like a pile of coat hangers. She could barely walk without falling and her speech was slurred to the point of gibberish. As we entered Jennifer's side entrance of her house, Jennifer Nestea plunged onto the couch in the living room. In the kitchen, searching for food, Raquel and I watched Cooter Brown spew all of her alcoholic beverages and food from that day all over her Mom's expensive couch, which was rather a buzz kill. We now had a mess to clean up, on top of having to baby-sit Jennifer. Running to her aid, after cleaning the lukewarm puddle of puke, we picked her up and guided her to the bathroom to get her cleaned up.

  In the bathroom, Jennifer shamelessly started to undress in front of me, and tried to lure me into the shower. Despite my fear of water, she was very attractive. However, she was really drunk, and I was there for Raquel. Not-to-mention but will mention, her breath having been rancid, and chunks of food dangling in her blonde hair - just didn't have the same appeal?

  Voice:

  "I don't feel sorry for the blind, for they know not what they are missing. I feel sorry for the ones who see, but are blind."

  After we managed to cage Jennifer in the shower, Raquel and I headed for the spare bedroom. Upon entering, Raquel closed the door and turned out the lights as I lunged for the bed. Jumping head first into the pillows, I turned onto my back as Raquel approached, crawling on all fours, while making some kind of crazy high pitch meowing cat noise. Somehow, by acts of magic, she now was only wearing a white bra and yellow panties. Abracadabra! Lying on my back and with hormones raging and feeling aroused, I was content in the moment. Seeing Raquel's flawless body, absorbing the reality at hand, my heart raced as my mind struggled to keep up. During this moment of prosperity and euphoria I guess its only natural for my phone to ring? Annoyed at the untimely distraction, I quickly reach for my phone, which had been in the front pocket of my jeans, making sure it wasn't my Mom checking up on me and saw, 'Chance house,' on the ID. 'Great,' I thought to myself, switching the ringer to silent, placing my phone on the carpet beneath the bed. Returning to our previous positions, kissing and caressing, content in the moment. Seconds later, we hear an authoritative banging against the door. Startling both Raquel and I, jumping to the unwary conclusion that Jennifer's parents had returned home early from their trip. A bit manic, after a moment of confusion, we heard Jennifer with a small, annoying, whiney voice yell,

  "I'm hungry." I let out the breath trapped in my lungs, Raquel laughed as she jumped out of bed and rushed to the door, cracking it open slightly, and softly whispered something to Jennifer as they both giggled. Seconds later, Raquel closed the door and turned towards me. Despite feeling nervous, I felt consumed with excitement, as Raquel slowly, sexually, seduced me in her approach. Her foxtrot.

  "Where were we?" she asked in a sexy hushed voice, as if she had forgotten. As she climbed into bed she wrapped her legs around my torso in a clamping manner. Falling within inches of my face, she braced her fall with her hands. She anchored herself on top of me and ran the tip of her tongue across her succulent lips. This moment was indeed, everything and more than I had dreamt. Perfection is a verb. As I succumbed, I gently kissed her neck. I closed my eyes and in my mind rose petals began to descend from the ceiling. Seconds passed, kissing, caressing, and finding us satisfied, lost but found in the moment, while trying to ignore my conscience.

  "Fisher! Fisher!" Jennifer yelled from behind the door. Her voice seemed panicked, but at the time was the equivalent to fingernails being drug against a chalkboard. Raquel and I jumped out of bed and headed for the door. Opening it halfway, wearing only boxers, Raquel wearing a sheet, Jennifer wearing a towel, her face seemed stricken with panic. She had become as pale as an albino squirrel.

  "What's the matter J-drunk?" I asked, becoming increasingly annoyed, as Raquel laughed. Jennifer fell to her knees engulfed in tears. Raquel quickly kneeled down next to her, placing her arm on Jennifer's shoulder to comfort her, hoping to help her calm down. Thinking, diva, amongst other things, when Jennifer stood and shot down the hall, as fast as if she had a third leg,

  "We have to go!" she turned back and yelled.

  "Go where?" I yelled, looking down the hall, but received no response. At this point, becoming worried, I turned to Raquel.

  "You might want to get some clothes on," as I took off running towards Jennifer's room, to find her crying uncontrollably.

  "Go where?" I asked, standing at the entrance to her bedroom.

  "Go where?" I repeated, only more stern. When Jennifer looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.

  "Chance!" she shrieked as tears raced down her face. Entering Jennifer's room, I stopped dead in my tracks and bent down, grabbing Jennifer by the shoulders, looking into her eyes.

  "What about Chance? What about Chance?" I asked alarmed, beginning to shake her, wishing she were not so drunk. Swift panic possessed me, as I felt a cold chill sweep over me, consumed by a tidal wave of nausea and feeling my body begin to tingle and go numb. Feeling much like I was about to faint, I took a seat on her bed. As Jennifer caught her breath, she looked up at me with puzzlement written on her lifeless face.

  "He got into a car accident. He's in the hospital." forcing the words out of her mouth, as she broke into tears. With her deliverance, my heart stopped. My stomach clenched, and then plunged
. I quickly stood and ran out of Jennifer's room, but the hallway seemed to extend beyond infinity2. Weird, but a pack of blood hungry hellhounds emerged. 'Why was this happening, not to mention, how?' I mused. Hearing a whistle being blown, the hellhounds engaged their pursuit, as I switched into survival mode. I bobbed and weaved, until I arrived safely at the spare bedroom. I found my phone and saw that I had five missed calls and two new voicemails - all from Chance's mom. After checking my messages, I received the confirmation, which I wasn't prepared to hear. My eyes glazed over and I instantly had tears streaming down my cheeks. Simultaneously, my nose started to run and my heart raged. Instinctively and thankfully the computer took control. I reacted by grabbing my car keys and asking the girls to head for the car. Despite my previous impaired driving skills, the news had had a tremendous sobering affect. As the girls mad-dashed for the car, I dressed myself and sped to the hospital. Oddly enough, I can't seem to recall one detail of the drive.

  Five or so minutes later, we had arrived at the hospital. Upon entering, I saw Rita standing swarmed by a crowd of friends and family. Appearing to have just rolled out of bed, her eyes were bloodshot and in a crazed panic. Jacob and Meredith's parents were also standing amongst their group of supporters. Perhaps paranoid, but it seemed that everyone paused when I stepped foot in the room. I looked at Rita and could see the equivalent of shock in her eyes, but also her trying to be strong.

  "Gimme a second," I whispered to Raquel, as I released her hand. Acknowledged with a simple nod, her and Jennifer lowered their heads and headed outside. Feeling my legs stiff, my feet became heavy in approach. Scanning the Emergency Room I felt the tension and emotion; like a slow burning cigarette left unattended, everything felt as if in slow motion. Seconds passed like hours, as a feeling developed, a waking dream, but eerily too real.

  "Why did you let him go? Why did you let him go?" Rita commenced shouting hysterically in recognition of me. The words echoed in my mind, still in the dark with what exactly had happened? In an explosion of energy, Rita began charging towards me. She swung her arms with intensity, stomped her feet, clenched her jaws, and pumped her fists. Stopping dead in my track, as we intersected paths, Rita began to punch my upper chest with both fists clinched, crying aloud, as she crumbled to the floor below. I didn't try to fight, resist, or restrain her. I took it. I stood, feeling the room begin to spin, feeling hurt, and embarrassed. Thankfully, a nurse approached, grabbed Rita by the arm and guided her to a different location. With emotions running haywire, everyone in the Emergency Room glared at me with shameful, judgmental eyes. I felt the room abnormally silent, and for the first time, I could feel my heart raging in my chest cavity and thundering in my ears. Despite being muffled, it seemed as loud as the speaker's overhead, 'Code Red. Code Red. Paging Dr. Xoxo.'

  Moments later, a couple of kids from school arrived. I decided to walk outside and have a plug, (dip). Outside, Raquel explained:

  "Chance left the party with Meredith and her brother Jacob, and were hill topping (which is going fast over hills, trying to get the wheels off the ground) in Jacobs Jeep. At some point, a deer ran out into the middle of the road."

  Voice:

  "There are 1.5 million crashes involving deer each year. One hundred and fifty of these accidents are fatal, and more than ten thousand people are injured."

  "What I am told is that Jacob swerved to miss the deer, and hit a ditch. Jacob's Jeep rolled four times, ejecting the passengers in different directions, killing Meredith and Jacob instantly."

  "What about Chance?" I asked, as Raquel's face turned to pain.

  "He is in intensive care, in a coma. He suffered a severe blow to the head and has lost a lot of blood," Raquel said as she broke into tears.

  Feeling void of emotion, guilt overcame me and I hung my head. I was convinced I was in a dream, that none of this was real. I mean I saw him about an hour earlier. Minutes later Chance's sister Kara arrived, and grabbed a seat next to us. Seeing her, for the third or fourth time in my life, I felt speechless. Unable to control my emotions, I felt as if someone had ripped my vocal chords right out of my throat, as Kara leaned over and gave me a hug. In that moment, reality hit, or at least began to set in. It was the reality that I might not ever see my best friend who was always so full of laughter and fun, ever again. I lived my life thinking that nothing like this could happen to me. Essentially, I lived my life thinking that I was invincible. It seemed surreal and hadn't truly impacted me to the fullest extent.

  We waited in the Emergency Room overnight and into the morning hours, praying to God, hoping by some miracle, Chance would live. I felt lost; I felt I had betrayed a brother. I felt at fault and guilt-ridden and ashamed. There is no worse feeling I have experienced than waiting in a hospital. A place of extremes; we rejoice the gift of life, and mourn the callous of death. Seeing all the sick, hurting, and miserable people is overwhelming, and it takes a toll. Your faith begins to wear thin. A realm of life that is a realm of its own, the small moments become large, the large moments become small.

  Watching the sun come up is normally a good thing, but this morning, for the first time, I wanted it to go down as it peaked in the distance, rejecting the subtle reality of life's continuum. I thought, 'Chance might not see the same sight ever again, and I was to blame.'

  The following days were emotional for everyone. Family and friends took turns waiting bedside, with Chance experiencing abnormal posturing, praying for a miracle, with hopes Chance would sit-up, open his eyes, something; anything. Na?ve, as the days dragged our optimism grew unrealistic, and our prayers, unanswered, rendering our minds spent. On the third day after the accident, after much contemplation, Rita decided to take him off life support. The reasoning behind her decision was from Doctors, including medical staff, that had told her that he could never be the Chance we all knew and loved. It was said, 'if he ever came around, he would more than likely be a vegetable the rest of his life. Never walk, or talk, again.'

  Standing in the room, I witnessed Chance appear to get better for a few short hours, then, gradually, decline. In the background, keeping vigil, he painfully struggled to breathe until he tried no more. I saw and heard him flat line, as Rita hunched over the bed next to him, held his hand and cursed the heavens. Chance expired. A scene I struggled with, a familiar scenario, involving my Papa, years earlier. I knew he was gone, and understood the concept of death. I realized, I will never see him again, and was broken with hurt.

  The following nights I was restless, and my days were long. The local town people expressed their loss of the kids by showing support, as the entire community suffered, and helped where possible. Often, I found myself questioning: 'why? Why couldn't it have been me? Why did I let him go? Why did it have to be this way?' Now I was forced to live with this baggage for the rest of my life. I was ashamed, scared, and felt singled out by the entire town. I didn't feel welcome. I received glares from strangers, and could read what people were thinking by their expressions. The two-horse town of Lebanon, the place I had lived my natural life, now treated me like an outsider, an outcast of society, and a leper of biblical times.

  In the following days, the wake and funeral took place at a local mortuary. The day of the funeral, getting around, I received an unexpected phone call from Rita.

  "Will you ride with me in the hearse?" she asked. Choked up at first, not able to find the words to speak,

  "Yes, yes I will." I forced the words out of my mouth, and hung up the phone.

  After I finished getting dressed, I drove to Chance's, or where he used to live. Only this time, there was no race down the driveway. No loving dogs, excited, ears tall, tails wagging, mouths slobbering, cornering the house. When I arrived, needless-to-say, it felt weird. Understanding he was not there and I would never be able to kick it with him again.

  I sat in my car, absorbing such a reality until the hearse arrived, then I r
ode with the family to the cemetery. Of which, seemed long. A ride I could have lived without. It felt as if it were a scene from a movie. With rain falling on the decadent setting, dark clouds loomed overhead. Time had slowed to a snail's pace and I knew what anyone would say before they said it. Mindlessly peering out the window of the hearse, I observed life and people living it: the scenery, the cars, the people in them, seemed strange, felt strange. I witnessed smiles fade, followed with a simple nod of the head of strangers who showed their respects.

  When we arrived at the burial site, the mood was unsettling since the entire school including faculty had come to grieve. Lightening flashed as thunder clapped overhead and the rain continued to fall. Deep down, I felt that Rita blamed me for what happened. She seemed disconnected, somewhat reclusive, which I can't say I could blame her. Looking around the funeral, familiar faces in the crowd, each person held a white candle that was given to them prior to the ceremony. Emotionless and unsatisfied, I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to be anywhere else but there. To be more precise, I wanted to be anyone else but me. Plagued with questions, tormented with why.

  I hoped that someday the accusing parties would find it in their hearts to forgive me. I felt horrible, but felt I could justify my situation. One: I wasn't driving the car. Two: I didn't make Chance ride with them. Lastly, Lord knows, I didn't make him drink. Yet, I could see the errors from Rita's, and others, perspective. He left with me, and I should have brought him back. We can rationalize all we want, but that won't change the result of our actions. The fact of the matter is: he's gone. Humanism leads us to question and attempt to rationalize. Reality leads us to face our struggles, views, and actions. He once lived and is now gone, but never will be forgotten. I love you Brother. I miss you. The words on the note I wrote, and tossed into the gravesite.

  The impact of the accident shook the foundation of our entire town. A previously trusting, predominantly friendly, religious community feared each other's child, a memory that is forever seared into my brain.

  *

  Voice:

  "Forgive and forget? Ehm - relevance."

  *

  Seeing Chance's casket, I felt he wasn't at rest. I felt he was not finished. I knew it in the deepest levels. I knew, but had no idea?

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