Twisting his neck, he looked at the alarm clock sat next to his bed and sighed in exasperation. It was 2:32 in the morning and he still hadn’t got to sleep.
Pushing the covers off himself, he sat up on the side of the bed and held his head in his hands. The conversation he had had with his parents just a few hours ago had brought up the memory of his elder brother. He had left the house years ago for no apparent reason. Bug’s memory was hazy about the entire situation.
All he could remember was his brother storming into the house one night, throwing a piece of paper into his father’s lap and then going upstairs into his room to pack. The next day, Bug had awoken to his mother crying and his father not really doing anything. His brother had left him, all alone. A good bye hadn’t even seemed enough for his brother to bear, let alone a conversation.
His brothers room had constantly been there for him through times of sadness and happiness, his brother had always been there for him and then, suddenly, one day he was gone. Remembering this, Bug suddenly felt the depression that he, as an eleven year old, had felt. That feeling of his brother’s absence had been too much for the eleven year old to feel and still was now. Thinking about how close they had been and their relationship, Bug felt tears fill his eyes.
The sudden vibration of his phone disrupted his thoughts, like a bullet through glass. Feeling under his pillow for it, he unlocked the phone to see that he had received a text from an unknown number. Frowning, he read the text, the light from the phone showing his facial expression change from upset to partially confused and angry.
Flicking the options bar on his phone, Bug rapidly called the number. Waiting impatiently for the person to pick up, he sat there tapping his foot. Reaching voicemail, he groaned and tried once more. Again, the irritating woman’s voice came through the phone, telling him to leave a message after the beep.
Throwing his phone onto his bed, he groaned and rubbed his forehead anxiously. And then lay back into his bed, resting it on the pillow and closed his eyes.
The light from the phone lit up the entire room, the text still visible on the screen.
Today’s the day your perfect life gets turned upside down. Spain’s the answer.
…
Waking up to his dads face, as he had been doing so for the past four years, the text and his brother had been forgotten, replaced by a pounding headache. Opening his blinds, he looked outside the window, expecting a normal summer day. Instead, he was welcomed to torrential rain, the kind that leapt at the window as though it was trying to get in. The weather had changed as quickly as Bugs mood.
Going to the gym with his father still took place regardless of what had taken place the night before, his father acting as though nothing had happened, whistling cheerily like he always did. Normality had taken its rightful place.
Coming back from the gym, Bug took a shower. Somehow, standing underneath the pressurised hot water seemed to take all the stress away. Although his father had tried to act like nothing had happened, it was obvious that he had been hurt by it and, him trying to act normal, was just making the situation worse.
Stepping out of the shower, Bug quickly dressed and ran to his room, trying to avoid both his parents. Sitting on his bed, he grabbed his iPod and shoved it into his pocket, the headphones trailing on the floor. Picking them up, he placed them into his ears and turned the iPod on. The Script had always been there for him.
Looking at the time, he wondered if his girlfriend would be awake. Thinking she wouldn’t, he looked at his phone and flicked it open. The text glared at him in brilliant black and white, taunting him with its threat.
Flicking open the options bar, he scrolled down to the delete button. His thumb wavered for a moment and then he clicked on it, the warning prompt jumping up immediately.
Stopping there, he moved his thumb to the ‘yes’ button and then back to the ‘no’ button. Seeing the word ‘Spain’, he froze. His brother was living in Spain now. He knew that because a week after his brother had left, he had sent his father a letter saying that he was currently residing in Spain. His father had torn up the letter.
A sudden surge of excitement went through him. Maybe his brother was trying to tell him to come to Spain. But, no. The number was a United Kingdom number, not a foreign one. And he knew from the voicemail that it was an O2 number. Besides, why would his brother warn him that his life would be in total ruins today? It didn’t make sense to him that his brother would do this. But why Spain? The excitement died down and was replaced by suspicion. Pressing the ‘yes’ button, he put his phone into his pocket when a scream ripped the air. His mother’s.
Leaping to his feet, he ran towards the door, his every molecule trying to get to his mother fast enough. Reaching the stairs, he ran down two steps at a time and leapt down the last seven and entered the living room panting. Looking around for his mum, he spotted her breathing frantically in the kitchen. Walking over towards her, he looked at where her line of vision was and nearly screamed himself.
His father lay on the floor. Lifeless and limp. His breath coming out staggered, as though his body was forcing him to breath. Feeling his heart sink into his feet, he nearly broke down. His father could be dead.
Forcing himself to not cry or think about what could happen; he knelt down by his father. Checking his pulse and breath, he flipped open his phone and dialled 999, explaining to the authorities what had happened and where they lived with such calmness that it was as though nothing had happened. His mother stood by him, her face ice-white, her breathing fast and ragged. Her husband lying down on the floor of her kitchen seemed to be too much for her and so, she fainted, her body collapsing like a puppet without its strings. Lying down next to her husband, they looked as though they were dead.
Not letting this thought get to him, Bug sat there for the full seven and a half minutes the ambulance took to get to him. Getting up to answer the door when they came, he found that it already been open and they were inside. The question of why occurred to him for a second but he was distracted by the men looking over his parents.
Picking them both up and placing them onto gurneys, they pushed them outside and began loading them into the ambulance.
‘Come on, son.’ said one of the paramedics, in a soothing Irish accent, placing his arm around Bug. ‘I think you should be with your parents.’ Helping him up, he placed him into the ambulance and sat next to him, going on about how his mother had died of a heart attack. Although the man meant good, Bug felt as though he wasn’t really helping by talking about how his mother had died of a heart attack when his own was lying on a gurney across him, lifeless for all to know.
Determined not to break down in tears in front of a stranger he hardly knew, he looked out of the window at his house, which was slowly growing smaller in the distance. It looked normal, the tree in the front garden, the rusty old gate, the windows. Almost normal. Except for one thing.
There was a man standing next to his house, looking at the ambulance. Clothed in a black cloak and a black hat that covered his eyes, he had his face in the direction of the ambulance. Feeling his heart beat quicken, Bug looked at the Irish man who was still talking and looked back at the house and felt his heart jump into his throat. The man had gone, disappeared. Frantically looking around his road, he tried to spot where he had gone, but there was nothing.
Turning away from the window, he felt that the man had something to do with what had happened. As soon as the thought has appeared in his head, he pushed it away. Logic told him that there was nothing someone could do to make this happen. It was impossible.
His phone vibrated again, making him jump. Taking it out of his pocket, he saw that he had a text. From the same unknown number that he had gotten a text from yesterday. Feeling apprehensive, he opened it to see that it contained a bunch of random letters and numbers. Feeling confused, he saved the text into his phone and laid his head back against the ambulance. Why was this happening to him?
…
Sitting in the hospital waiting area, Bug sent out three important texts. He sent one to Selena telling her that he was at the hospital and that he wanted her to be there with him. One to Mustafa asking him when he was back home. And the last one, the most important, was a text to Adam Schiffer, the local Bill Gates.
Bug needed Adam to figure out what the random numbers and letters sent in the text meant. He was positive that there was a meaning behind them and, if he couldn’t decipher them, then there was someone out there that most definitely could. It seemed that he would have to wait for Adam’s response seeing as he was half asleep and needed time to get over his hangover from the night before.
Sighing, he leaned back against the uncomfortable chair and closed his eyes. Being stressed out was something he rarely did, but it seemed that the situation called for it. A thumping headache coupled with a stomach that had decided to want to throw out his breakfast was not something that he wanted to deal with.
‘Antonio?’ a voice broke through his thoughts.
‘Yes?’ standing up, he faced the slim, blonde doctor that had walked out of the doors across him. Had he been here for any other reason, he might have said that she was good looking or thanked God that he had got such a doctor, but now all he could think about was how he was going to be left alone. Again.
‘Walk with me.’ Motioning back through where she had come, she looked at him and thought about the news that she was going to give him in a few moments. ‘I’ve treated both your father and your mother. I can safely say that your father will live.’ Pausing for a moment, she looked at his face. There was no response. ‘He had a minor heart attack. Nothing too big, but it was still worth looking at and I think that he should no longer smoke. Your mother…’
Cutting her off, he stood still and looked confused. ‘But he doesn’t smoke. How can he have had a heart attack linked to smoking when he doesn’t smoke? That makes no sense.’ Looking at her in utter confusion, he played with his headphones, twirling them rapidly.
‘The scans made on his lungs show that he has been smoking. Not a lot, but enough to cause some serious damage to his heart and lungs. That’s the reason of his heart attack.’ Going back to him, she put her arm around him and sat him down on the chairs nearby. ‘I understand that this is a hard time for you to go through at such a young age. But…’ Sighing, she looked at her chart and then the time. ‘Do you have anyone to stay with?’
‘Yes, I do. There’s no need to worry about that? Now my mother?’ standing up, he brushed her arm off him and motioned towards where they had been walking.
Clearing her throat, she stood up. ‘Yes. Your mother was admitted to the hospital because she fainted at seeing your father in his situation. Now we cleared up her head injuries so that they will completely heal. However, we found that there was a lump on the back of her neck. So we sent her in for a CAT scan to see if anything came up.’ Here she paused, uncertain of whether she should tell him. ‘Your mother has cancer.’
Stopping in his tracks, he opened his mouth to let out words but nothing came. His brain just simply failed to make sense of what she had just told him. She had cancer. His mother. The one person that he thought he could rely on more than anyone, the one person that he thought would never leave him and she was going to die. Looking at the doctor in utter sorrow, he shut his mouth only to open it again. ‘That’s not possible. She-she can’t have cancer! My mother cannot have cancer. Mums aren’t meant to get cancer. Why are you lying to me?!’ Pushing past her, he ran down the corridor until he reached the ward his mother was in. looking around at all the feeble patients strapped in their beds, he broke down. Falling to his knees, he rested his head in his hands and cried, every tear leaving a trail on his cheek.
The blonde doctor came after a few moments, her hair had come undone as she had run after him. Seeing him on the floor, she crumpled inside, remembering the day that her own mother had been diagnosed with cancer. She had only been eleven and had, since then, vowed to become a doctor and stop anyone else from feeling that way. And here she was, failing that vow.
Walking up to him, she placed a comforting arm around him and brought him to his feet. He had stopped crying now, but looked lost, as though he didn’t know where he was. ‘Come on, I think you need something to eat and a nice drink.’ Leading him away from the ward, she took him through the doors and out into the parking lot. There was a McDonalds across the hospital and she was going to take him there to eat.
Walking across the parking lot, she stopped him as an ambulance rushed through, screeching to a halt just in front of them. Two men jumped out from the front and one from the back, opening the way for a gurney to deliver its load to the hospital
Normally Bug wouldn’t look at the person lying on the gurney as he considered it to be nosy but today, he felt as though he should.
Pushing past the doctor he walked forward towards the gurney. There was blood dripping down from it, making a trail across the parking lot. Trying to see the source of it, he saw a hand which had been cut. A hand that he recognised. A hand that he had held, embraced him, the hand of Selena.
Realising this took but a minute and he rushed forward, pushing past the two paramedics trying to get her into the hospital. She lay on the gurney as lifeless as his mother had. Her beautiful face covered with dried blood and mud. The rest of her body was covered with a white cloth, but Bug could see that she was wearing the clothes that he had bought her for her birthday. Reaching over to her hand, he choked back a sob, his stomach twisting itself into knots.
From there on, everything seemed to go into slow motion. The paramedics pushed him back and drove her into the emergency room. Following them he heard the words ‘car accident’ and ‘another person involved’. Pushing her past the two white doors, the paramedic that had been there for his mother and father recognised him and took hold of him. Sitting him down and telling him to stay there, he walked off to find someone.
He was alone.
…
Walking out of the hospital Bug didn’t think about the text, his brother or the strange man waiting outside his house. His entire mind was focussed on the events that had just taken place in the last three hours.
Three hours?! He couldn’t believe that so much had happened in such little time. It seemed like yesterday was decades ago.
Walking down the road, he looked at the numerous people that were coming out of McDonalds, with their families and friends, not even realising how close they were to death. How much their lives didn’t even matter to the entire universe. They were just a speck of dust compared to the rest. If anyone of them died, nature wouldn’t care.
The fifteen-minute walk from the hospital to his house seemed to take longer than usual, his iPod’s headphones trailing behind him. Reaching his house, he turned in to open the door when he found that something was out of place. There was something wrong with the street.
Turning around to see what was wrong, he could see nothing. Absolutely nothing. The gardens were all pristinely kept as usual, the cars parked in the same places day in, day out. There was nothing wrong with the way that the street looked but it just seemed odd.
And then it dawned upon him what was making him feel like something was wrong. In all the years that he had lived there, there had always been some form of noise, whether it was kids playing or adults going about their daily business, there was always some form of noise. And that was what was missing. There was no-one to be seen. The entire street was empty, devoid of human life but him.
Standing outside his house, he contemplated whether to go in or to stay outside. Unable to make a decision, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at his reflection. He resembled something out of a horror zombie movie, his eyes bloodshot and face pale. Unlocking the phone, he saw that he had four new messages.
The first one was from Mustafa explaining that he had already got home and was there now. The second was from Adam telling him that he had just received his text and would get to work on deciphering the code. The third text was from the unsaved number that continually texted him without reason:
mothers dead. fathers next. girlfriends disloyal. Spain.
Sighing at the mention of Spain, Bug moved to the final text that he had received. It was another from Adam:
Dude! I tried to check if the code meant something from some kinda foreign language or anything but it doesnt so I just typed it into google, and the answer that I got was so simple youll LOL when you read it
Itsa plane number. So simple and yet so damn complicated. Basically the code was a number for a plane that is due to leave at 3.30 am from Birmingham airport. Its destination is Spain. Hoped that helped or whatever
Feeling a burst of disparity at reading this, he realised that all these things that have happened weren’t just coincidences. They had been planned. But what he didn’t get was how. How could it be possible that someone had made his father have a heart attack? For his mother to be diagnosed with fatal cancer? For his girlfriend to be in a car accident?
Selena! He had forgot about her in the shock of actually seeing her as she was. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he walked to where she lived. This, fortunately, was just around the corner. They had lived nearby each other nearly their entire lives but had only found out in secondary school. To think that they had grown up with each other, seen the same things, played with the same toys. And now, life had cruelly taken her away from him.
But no! he couldn’t think like this. He had to keep a calm head and try to figure out just what exactly was going on.
Rounding the corner, something stopped him in his tracks. The entire street was crawling with police and, yet, his street seemed to be so quiet. This was the reason why. They were all gathered around the car accident that had taken place.
From the looks of the things, it seemed that a car had swerved onto the road and crashed into a parked car that had been parked right where he stood. The two cars had then swerved down the road and stopped. He could see it now. Selena walking into the road. Hearing the sound of the cars, she turned to look at the danger that was coming but didn’t get to safety. The cars hit into her, the sickening sound of metal hitting flesh and then the squealing of the tires. And she was still.
A film of tears obscured his vision as he moved forward to see the actual damage of the accident. The car that had taken the full blow of the accident was crumpled, the metal collapsed inwards. There was blood dripping from there. The car that had driven into the street was a few metres away, damaged but not as much as the other.
Its bumper lay on the road, smiling drunkenly at the sky. A few more parts of it lay there to, including the license plate. A license plate that was recognisable to Bug and he knew it. A memory struggled to get past his brain and into his cycle of thought.
He knew that car. He knew the person who drove that car. And yet, he didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it.
Stumbling forward towards the wreckage, he bent down and picked up the license plate.
TO2 PHAT
The license plate was personalised and there was only one person who lived around this area that had this license plate. Feeling a burst of anger, Bug stood up and flicked his phone up. Selecting a contact, he dialled the number and waited, the license plate still gripped in his hand.
The phone on the other side of the call rang. Once. Twice. And then, before the third ring had a chance to buzz in Bugs ear, the phone was picked up.
‘Hello?’ the voice inquired, with a tinge of panic to it. ‘Hello?’ again, the voice inquired, but to no hope.
Bug let go off both phone and license plate and ran. Before the phone even had a chance to hit the floor, Bug had disappeared.
The name on the phone flashed briefly and then the screen went dark as it cracked in several different areas. Falling apart, the name flashed again and then was dead.
MUSTAFA…
…
Rounding the corner, Bug panted and looked down the round. Putting his hands on his knees, he looked around and then just slumped down to the ground, placing his hands in his hair, his forehead glistening in the sun. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take all this. He just couldn’t. He was sixteen, for crying out loud. This was not supposed to happen to him, not now, not when everything was going good.
Feeling as though he just wanted the earth to swallow him up, he choked back tears and stood up. He couldn’t give up. His parents were both in hospital and his girlfriend now too. At least he knew the cause of his girlfriend being in hospital; or so he thought. Feeling the anger return his strength to him, he walked purposefully down the road until he reached a house.
Stopping in front of it, he shielded his eyes from the sun that had just decided to come out, and squinted.
It was an ordinary house. Two windows on the bottom floor and two on the top . The door was set in the middle of the bottom two and had the number 82 written on it with gold embroidery. The front garden was pristinely kept and the gate twinkled looking brand new. Each window had a different set of curtains in it and, currently, were shut.
Swinging open the gate, Bug knocked on the door three times and waited. And waited. And waited. Knocking again, he looked up to the top left window and saw the curtain move. Moving back from the door, he placed his hand on the gate and swung it as though he were to leave. It was here when the curtain moved back into its original place and Bug knew he had been watched.
Silently creeping around to the back of the house through the alley next to it, he jumped over the fence and saw that the bathroom window was open. As he knew this house as well as his own, he knew that it was a simple matter of jumping in through the window and confronting the inhabitants.
Reaching up to the window, he pulled it forward and placed his head in it. Looking around, he closed the toilet door and squeezed himself in.
After a few minutes, he landed on the floor of the bathroom and stayed there for a moment, listening as to whether he had been heard.
He hadn't.
Walking forward, through the kitchen and into the living room, he found two suitcases. They had the letters M.M. plastered all over them and he knew that his supposed best friend had returned home without telling him. Walking past these, he walked into the front room and saw that there was a jumper with blood on it. Or, at least, it appeared to be blood.
Bending down, he picked up the jumper and saw that there was a badge on it. And inside the smiley face there was a man who was actually moving within the badge. Turning it around, he saw that the man moved as well. He seemed to be coming closer to the edge of the badge, lifting a sort of bat right over Bugs head. Bracing himself, the man stood on tiptoes and was just about to bring the bat down when Bug realised that this was not happening within the badge.
It was a reflection. A reflection of the person behind him. Turning round, he saw the confused face of Mustafa and then anger. Anger as hard as steel.
Bringing the bat down, Mustafa let out a roar. Twisting, so that the bat missed him, Bug caught it in his hand and pulled it out of Mustafa’s hand. Throwing it behind him, he grabbed Mustafa by the neck and pushed him up against the wall.
Both of them panting, they stood there for a moment. And then, showing some sort of final resort, Mustafa head-butted Bug and pushed him so that he fell backwards.
Regaining his balance, Bug stood still and strained his ears to listen. The silence seemed deafening. And then, a slight panting noise seemed to be coming from the kitchen.
Walking on the balls of his feet, Bug moved into the living room and saw the reflection of Mustafa in the tiles across him. He seemed to be standing against the wall next to the door, waiting for Bug to come so he could ambush him. There was something glinting in his hand, something that looked like the blade of a knife, taken from one of the kitchens drawers.
Stepping forward, Bug saw a phone on the sofa in the room ahead. Picking it up, he recognised it to be Mustafa’s. Unlocking it, he saw that the last call he had received was from Bug himself. And then the one before that was a number that seemed familiar to him.
Placing his hand into his pocket, he searched for his phone. And then realised where it was.
And then the realisation of whose number it was hit him. The number was Selena’s. She had phoned Mustafa just before she had been admitted into hospital. Just before the car accident. But it had been a missed call. Mustafa hadn’t picked up.
Feeling his anger rise, he opened the message inbox and saw that Mustafa had received a message.
You have one new voicemail.
Calling the number of the voicemail, Bug put the phone on speaker.
Message received at 1.32 pm today. ‘Mustafa, Mustafa, I can’t do this nomore. We’re going against him. He’s your BEST friend. You don’t do this to your best friend. I won’t let you do this. I don’t even want to do it. That stupid kiss the other night meant nothing. YOU kissed ME. YOU betrayed him and I hope to GOD he finds out. You disgust me.’ Press 1 to delete message or press 2 to keep message… Message deleted.
Mustafa had come out from the kitchen now, the knife swinging in his hand as though he no longer had the energy to hold it.
‘Is it true?’ asked Bug, his voice quiet, his eyes staring at the phone in his hand. Mustafa stared blankly at him. ‘I said is it true?!’ he shouted, looking up at him. A tear had spilled from his right eye and slowly made its way down his cheek.
Mustafa nodded, his eyes red. Walking forward, he dropped the knife on the floor. ‘I didn’t mean it to happen. I swear Bug, I swear. She was upset because you had argued with her and came to me. I comforted her and then…’
‘Then what?’
‘Then I kissed her.’ Saying this, Mustafa crumpled. Taking another step forward, he put his hand out to reach Bug.
‘Stay away from me. You kissed my girlfriend. And you’re supposed to be my best mate?!’ clenching his fists, he threw the phone at Mustafa. ‘You stupid ignorant little idiot!’ running towards him, he tackled him to the floor. ‘You…were…meant…to…be…my…best…friend.’ With each word, he punched him in the face until, finally, he stopped. ‘Why?’
‘Because I love her.’ He stated. Spitting out a few teeth, he crawled back. ‘Because I love her more than you ever could. And you know it.’ Standing up, he put both of his hands behind his back.
‘And you know that’s complete bullshit.’ Turning around as to walk away, he stood in the doorway for a second. ‘I’ll never forgive you or your brother for what you’ve done today.’
‘My brother?’ evidently confused, Mustafa stopped. ‘What’s he got to do with anything?’
‘Ha! He’s the one that put Selena into hospital. Didn’t you know?’ walking away, he opened the door and stepped outside.
‘Don’t walk away from me!’ screamed Mustafa, running forward, a glint of silver in his hand. Sighing, Bug turned around and saw the hand. Saw the knife. Saw the anger.
Standing there as to welcome his death, he made no move as to get out of the way. His mouth curved at the sides, smiling at the idea of his best friend killing him, he looked as though he was a little kid. A little kid who had just received the best of news.
As Mustafa came closer, Bug noticed a black figure out of the corner of his eye. It seemed to be approaching them, intent on reaching them both in a hurry.
Nearing them, the figure jumped over the fence and side tackled Mustafa, sending him flying to the other side of the front garden, just seconds before Mustafa would’ve stabbed him.
Hitting the gate, Mustafa groaned with pain and then gave in to unconsciousness. Bug, looking at his saviour, mumbled a few words and then gave in to the tiredness that had made its way into his limbs and blacked out.
…
Groaning, Bug woke up and rubbed his eyes. His head pounded with every beat of his heart and his spine was twisted comfortably. He knew, without seeing, that he was sat somewhere. Opening his eyes, he squinted in the light. It took a few minutes to adjust, images becoming clearer and clearer by the second.
There was a man across him, sitting on a seat like the one he was sat at. ‘Where am I?’ The question escaped his mouth before he could figure the answer out himself.
Laughing, the man turned his face towards him. ‘You’re clever aren’t you? We’re in a plane. My plane. Before you make some accusation of what’s happening here, know this. Your brother planned the whole thing and I won’t refrain from inflicting hurt towards you if you piss me off. Got it?’
Bug nodded, keeping his face straight, not letting it betray emotion. Underneath the surface, however, his emotions were in turmoil, throwing up questions to his mind.
The day was turning out to be extremely entertaining.
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