Young Writers Society

Four years had passed since Antonio ‘Bug’ Khan’s life was turned upside down. Four years to that specific day when both his parents were admitted to the hospital as well as his girlfriend.

The town in which he lived had recoiled from the news, each gossiping their own little story about what had happened. Mustafa had been questioned relentlessly about where his best friend had disappeared to although he maintained a sense of confusion over the whole thing.

Selena had been put into a coma by the accident and people were contemplating whether or not there had been a love triangle between Mustafa, Selena and Antonio. Selena had obviously chosen Antonio (why wouldn’t she?) and Mustafa had run her over in his brothers car, who was missing as well. Although he wasn’t that much of a worry.

Rumours escalated in that first few months that Antonio was missing, each pinning the blame on a different person of the situation.

Some said that Antonio had tried to kill Mustafa and then ran away when he didn’t succeed.

Others said that Mustafa had tried to kill Antonio and succeeded. He had thrown the body away and sent his brother off so that he could be kept out of trouble. If the police suspected Asif, he would be in the clear.

However, most said that the parents were at fault. Maybe Selena’s father disliked Antonio and had killed him in a moment of madness. He had then drove over his own daughter in an attempt to place the guilt on Asif and then tried to kill Mustafa. This story was a bit far-fetched but everyone lapped it up.

After the year had subsided, the rumours had all died. Selena had come out of her coma healthy but suffered from amnesia as to the car accident. She couldn’t remember a thing about it. Asif returned from his little ‘trip’ and Antonio’s mother and father were released from hospital. His father had given up the smoking and his mother had only six months to live.

Everything was slowly going back to normality.

…

‘Mustafa Mohammed!’ a scream came from the downstairs of his household, working its way between his earphones and bursting into his ears. Pulling them off he screamed back, ‘What?!’

‘Get your ass down here now!’ his father yelled.

Sighing in exasperation, he paused his game on the PlayStation and put the controller on the floor of his bed. Making his way down the stairs, his brain went through all the things that he could have possibly been found out about.

Walking into his living room, he saw his father standing there, brandishing a letter in his hand. ‘What is this?’

‘A letter?’

‘What’s inside the letter?’ His face was slowly getting redder and redder by the second.

‘You’re the one holding it.’ Mustafa muttered.

Letting out a growl of frustration, his father screamed at him. ‘IT’S A LETTER FROM YOUR COLLEGE! YOU MISSED THE ENTIRE LAST MONTH OF IT!!!’

‘Yeah, so?’ leaning against the wall, Mustafa folded his arms.

‘Right that’s it. I’ve had it with you. You’re 18 for the love of god. And yet you mope around the house ever since that ‘best friend’ of yours did a runner. And guess what? He’s probably having a better time then you right now. You stupid little….’

‘Idiot. Yeah I know Dad, thanks for throwing that in there once again. I’m so thankful for having a father like you. Awesome.’ Sticking his thumb in the air, he turned and walked back upstairs.

This happened nearly every week. His father would find something out about him, they would argue and he would win.

Ever since he had returned from the hospital, both his parents had been treating him differently. His father had taken it upon himself to become the strictest man in the world while his mother tried to show him that she loved him. His brother, having returned from his little ‘trip’, sat in his room all the time, a shell of the person he used to be before.

Going upstairs to return to the PlayStation, Mustafa turned to his brother’s room which was, as usual, locked. He could hear nothing from it and wondered if his brother was dead. It wouldn’t really affect him if his brother did die, he’d probably have to go to the funeral, but that was it.

Sitting on his bed, he looked at the earphones that lay beside him. They were white and looked brand new even though he had had them for about three years now. They had been a present from his brother, when he was actually a sane human being. He had given them to him with the warning that ‘if he ruined them, he would pay in both pounds and blood’ and Mustafa had yet to.

He missed those days.

Lying down next to them, he closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head.

…

Waking up with a start, Asif shook his head and looked around. It was dark. There was no sound coming from anyone or anything, just the ragged sound of his breath leaving his lungs.

Getting up from his bed, he blindly moved around the room until he found the light switch. Flicking it, he closed his eyes, expecting a sudden flash of light. There was none.

Swearing under his breath, he moved around the room a bit more and hit his foot on the bed’s leg and gasped in pain. Hopping around the room now, he sat on the bed and moaned in pain. A few minutes passed and he didn’t move. After the pain had subsided, he got up once more and, this time using his phone, made his way to the door and opened it.

Stepping out, he felt a breeze of cold wind make its way across his face. Shivering, he peered into the darkness, using his phone as a light. Shining it across as to where the hallway should have been, he found nothing but never ending darkness.

Feeling panic brush his consciousness, he took a step out into the hallway, expecting the warmth of the carpet. Instead, he felt the cold harshness of stone. Pulling his leg back, he started to breath quickly.

Where was he? He has to be in his house, he had just come out of his bedroom for Christ’s sake!

Tentatively placing his foot down on the floor again, he made his way forward. After a few moments, his phone began vibrating in his hand, the light flickering on and off. Shaking it, he whispered ‘No, no, no…’ until it finally went off, leaving him in the dark.

Standing there for a few minutes, he felt the panic reach his throat, rendering him unable to breathe. Falling to the floor, he clutched at his throat, his brain frantically trying to get enough oxygen to it. Forcing himself to calm down, he breathed in slowly and then out, expelling all air from his lungs as he did.

It was a trick that he had learned from his teacher in school, and it worked. The bulge in his throat disappeared and he was able to breathe properly.

Standing up on his feet, he realised he had dropped his phone. Swearing, he threw his arms up in front of him and walked forward in this manner.

Another cold breeze, much harsher then the last one, rubbed against his face. It felt like someone was trying to claw away the skin from him. Shivering, he rubbed his hands together in a poor attempt to warm himself up and continued to walk forward, determined to reach the end, if there was indeed an end to this.

Raising his right foot forward, he placed it down and found nothing, just air. Gasping in shock, he waved his arms to regain balance but couldn’t, his left leg falling out from underneath him.

Grabbing onto the edge of the hole, he gasped and tried to pull himself up, his bare feet scraping the wall. Grabbing onto the stone floor with his nails, he dragged himself half up, his legs dangling down.

Relief washing over him, he continued his efforts until he was back on the ground again. Sighing, he backed away from the hole and breathed. Staying like this for a few minutes, he crawled to the edge of the hole and looked down.

He could see a small light from the bottom of the hole, a bright white light. Looking into, he was mesmerised by it and thought he was dying. Didn’t people usually say they saw a white light before they died? Maybe he was going to die now?
Although this thought should’ve scared him, he was glad. No longer would he have to sit around, feeling guilty about the accident. The accident that no-one knew he had anything to do with.

Feeling the ground shake underneath his feet, he jumped up and panicked. Looking from side to side, he thought it would be best if he ran forward and jumped over the hole. It was worth a try.

Bracing himself, he took a step back and put his hands on his knees. Feeling the ground shake faster, he ran forward and leaped across the hole. For a few seconds he was airborne, that same wind clawing his face. But this time, it was actually clawing his face.

His skin screamed in agony as unseen hands ripped it from his face, peeling it down until it hung from his chin. Blood poured from the wounds, swaying with the wind, the roar of it thunderous in his ears. His screams were unheard by anyone, lost in the air.

Slowing down, the wind but stopped, leaving him to fall into the hole. His eyes white against the redness of the blood, he frantically looked around for something to grab, something to slow his descent. Throwing both arms out, he scraped the wall, his fingernails coming off in the process. The pain was now everywhere.

It was like a monster, something inhuman that had taken residence under his skin. It was killing him from the inside. His screams rebounded off the walls of hole, a never-ending echoing scream.

A rock suddenly jutted out of the wall below him, creating a shadow from the light at the bottom. Twisting around so that he could avoid it, he manoeuvred to the other side. But the hole had suddenly shrunk, he couldn’t move out of the rocks way.

Scrabbling up against the wall, he tried to straighten himself out so that he could fit between the space between the rock and the wall. His legs refused to move as did his arms and his neck.

He was stuck with his right leg straight and his left leg stuck out.

He hit the rock.

The CRACK of the bone followed.

Blood squirted out.

The white light was blindingly close.

This was his fate.

Gasping, he woke up and grabbed his leg. Looking around, he saw that he was in his room. The comforting light from the streetlamp outside bathed his room in orange light.

He had had nightmares similar to this ever since he had caused that car accident. He knew he was guilty, he knew that he would have to go to the police. But he also knew that if he did, he would be placed in prison for a lifetime. He couldn’t do that.

But it was his fault. He had never been able to let go of that memory of that day, seeing Selena lying there on the ground. It was his entire fault.

He had been the one drinking. He was the one at the wheel of the car. He was the one who knocked her to the ground. And he was the one who had run away for a month, returning only when he knew the news had subsided.

It was his entire fault. And now his own mind was turning against him, showing him the true horrors of guilt.

…

Her body had been restored to near perfection, as it had been before the accident. If only the same could be said for her mind.

Selena had made a ‘miraculous recovery’ from the accident and had gone back to her normal life. Both her parents were glad that she was healthy and tried their best to make sure she stayed that way.

This included them not telling her about Bug running away.

Her mother tried to keep her to her bed while her father tried to make sure that no one contacted her. Her younger brother knew about Bug’s disappearance but he was paid off by his father not to tell.

She had remained in her house for two months, not venturing outside because of her fear of danger. She didn’t call anyone or go on Facebook or MSN. She soon seemed to be isolating herself from the outside world. Her doctor told her parents that this was usual behaviour for someone who could’ve died. The best thing to do was to make sure she was comfortable all the time and that they ensured she remained safe and that she knew she was safe. The news about her boyfriend would have to wait until she recovered.

And so they continued treating her differently, caring for her and going out of their way to make sure she was safe. They consistently asked her ‘how are you?’ and ‘are you okay?’ These questions didn’t gain a response; it was as though she didn’t hear them. She ate and slept routinely, as though it were something that she had to do, not something she wanted to do.

It was after Asif’s return to the town that she somehow snapped out of her dream world and came back to reality. Instead of staying in her bedroom, she had come downstairs and sat at the kitchen counter, pouring herself cornflakes.

Both her parents were shocked but didn’t show it. Her younger brother, however, poked her in the stomach and sat beside her.

‘Decided venture out into the real world eh?’ Winking at her, he twirled the contents of his half-empty bowl around. ‘Seriously thought we might just walk into your room and find that you’d turned into Bella.’

Looking at her from the corner of his eye, he waited for her response.

At first it seemed as though she wasn’t going to respond but then something clicked. It looked as though she was waking up from a dream. ‘Oh my God. I cannot believe you just compared me to Bella!’ Feigning mock horror, she grabbed the spoon from his bowl and pointed it in his direction. ‘I think I might just have to kill you.’ She whispered. And then leapt from her seat and chased him into another room.

Both her mother and father had just stood there, unable to say but a word. It seemed too good to be true.

After a few moments, Selena walked back into the kitchen, panting. The spoon was nowhere to be seen. ‘Alright. Now that he’s sorted can I go out today?’ She asked, the expression on her face unreadable.

Her mother and father exchanged a glance. It was simple enough; she seemed okay but how much did they act on this? Did they actually let her go out on her own? Where she could find out the truth about Bug? If that happened…

‘Selena, there’s something that we have to tell you…’ her mother started. Throwing a glance at her, her father sat down opposite Selena.

‘Yes, there is something that we need to discuss. It’s about Bug..’

‘Look Dad, I know you don’t like him. But I do! And he’s amazing so, and no disrespect or anything, but I’m going to continue going out with him. I may be too young to know about love or whatever and I’m not even saying that I love him, but I know I have extremely strong feelings towards him.’ crossing her arms, she stared at the wall behind her dads head.

‘He’s run away.’ Her dad stated, looking at her face for a response. At first, it seemed as though her brain didn’t register what had been said. And then it hit her.

Her features crumpled into confusion and then into one of disbelief. ‘NO, no he can’t have run away. He wouldn’t run away.’

‘He ran away shortly after you car accident. His mother and father were both admitted to hospital the same day. We don’t know why and we don’t where but he has run away. I understand this must be hard…’

Cutting off her mother, she stood up. ‘NO!’ she screamed. ‘No you don’t understand. Imagine if Dad ran away, how the hell do you think you’d feel?! Exactly, you don’t ever think about that and yet it’s happened to me. And you’re going all like you know how I feel?! ‘A tear rolled down her cheek and splashed onto the counter. Looking at both her parents, she covered her face in her hands and sobbed, her cries like knife wounds to her father.

Standing up, he went over to her and embraced her. ‘I’m sure he’ll come back. I’m sure he will.’ Kissing her hair, he rocked her gently while her mother watched with tears of her own in her eyes.

…

‘We have a middle aged woman suffering from knife wounds to the stomach and chest. We need to get her into surgery now! If we don’t, she’s gonna die!’ A voice shouted into a radio, the sound of wheels clattering on the shiny hallway, footsteps running alongside it.

Antonio’s father was one of them. Holding onto the rail of the trolley, silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he attempted to keep eye contact with his wife. ‘It’ll all be alright sweetheart. You’ll be fine. Trust me.’ Smiling at her, he held one of her limp hands and caressed it.

Feeling a slight squeeze back, he held onto it until one of the nurses pulled him back. ‘You’ll have to wait now sir, we’re taking her in.’

And then there was silence.

The double doors had obliterated his sight from where his wife was being taken to. There was no-one else around him.

Sitting on one of the chairs opposite the doors, he put his head into his hands and was motionless, a million different thoughts going through his head.

If only…

…

‘COME ON!’ cried one of the doctors as he grabbed the defibrillating unit and placed the paddles on her chest. Sending a thousand watts of energy through her body, he sent her back arching upwards and then back down onto the bed.

The continuous sound of the flat line filled the room.

The nurse placed an oxygen tube over her mouth and counted to five. Removing it, he placed the paddles back onto her chest and again she launched into the air. Falling back down lifeless, her blank eyes reflected the ceiling above.

Throwing up his hands, he placed them behind his head and stared at the flat line. The nurse came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘There was nothing anybody could’ve done.’ And then she was gone.

Swinging open the doors, he took off his gloves and saw the husband of the woman. He was middle aged, his black hair falling over his face. He had his head in his hands and seemed to be asleep.

Walking over to him, the doctor sat and put a hand on his shoulder. Jumping at the touch, he blinked and looked at him. ‘Is she dead?’ he asked the question with an expressionless face, as though he knew the answer.

‘Yes.’ The doctor gave the answer as best as he could.

‘How?’ looking towards the doctor, he stood up, tears forming at his eyes. ‘She can’t be dead. No. She can’t be dead. She told me shed be here forever. Even with the cancer. She’s not dead. Why are you lying?!’ His voice had now risen and had a tinge of panic to it.

He didn’t want to believe the doctor; he didn’t want to accept the inevitable. That his wife was dead, that he was now alone.