Sirius's eyes greet an unfamiliar ceiling.
He blinks multiple times to adjust to the room's lights.
-What... happened?Where...?
He tries to sit up but is physically incapable. His eyes dart down to his body.
Tubes run through his nose and chest, connecting to a machine on the right. His arms and legs are casted and propped up. That's when it occurs: everything hurts. He starts hyperventilating again.
-I can't breathe. Am I going to be in a hospital for the rest of my life? It hurts. It hurts.
Pain medications sit on the table beside him. Did they even work? My body is throbbing.
His mother comes rushing over, he hadn't even realized she was there. Her eyes are red, she's definitely been crying.
"Oh, Sirius!" She leans in to hug him but restrains herself. If she hugs me, I'll probably snap in half. She begins crying out of joy, "...You... lost so much blood." Her sniffling interrupts her sentence. "I was so worried... I'm so glad you're alive."
He doesn't feel the same. Instead, he feels guilty. Even in gut-wrenching pain, he feels guilty.His breathing starts to slow.
-I'm sorry for making you worry...
The father emerges in front of Sirius, he hadn't noticed him either.
"Finally, you're up." The man forces a smile.Yeah, that's real endearing...
"What happened...?" Sirius's voice is grave and raspy. It tickles his sore, crooked throat.
His mother answers. "You got hit by a truck. Your limbs are broken, and your... lungs are severely damaged." She's trying her best to hold back tears. She has never had a kid experience such a horrible accident. In fact, Sirius and Canopus have never needed to go to the hospital since they were babies.
"My lungs..."
"Yes, they said you won't be able to breathe on your own anymore," she chokes. "So that's why... that's why you are hooked up to this... thing. It helps you breathe. The driver is paying for everything and even left a gift basket over there."
On a table by the window sits a large woven basket full of "get well soon" imagery.
-At least you don't have to pay anything...
"How long... have I been out?"
Thoughts of what his life will be like from now on rush across his mind. Will I ever leave this hospital? If not, what's even the point of living anymore? Why keep me here? It'd be easier if you just pulled the plug...
The boy hasn't thought of a point to his life in years. He doesn't even want his life. But he can't say that. How do you tell the people who brought you into this world, that you don't want to be apart of it anymore?
Especially now... his mother's been through too much.
"About a day or so, but you're going to have to stay here for... a while."
"Just when soccer season started too," his father blurts.
"Oh, shut up! That should not be your concern right now!" His parents start bickering back and forth.
His father's remark doesn't even surprise him. Sirius catches a glimpse of his brother sitting in the corner of the room. He looks... frustrated.
A faint knock on the door is followed by a nurse entering the room. She kindly asks everyone to leave. They all do as they're told, Canopus stalking Sirius as he exits the room.
The nurse examines Sirius, asking him questions that seem to have no end.
...
-While the setting has changed, my life continues to bear repetitiveness. Day after day, it's the same questions, the same doctors and nurses. Mom comes to visit every day, apparently, she quit drinking wine. And grape juice and energy drinks for that matter. She feels responsible. She shouldn't.
It's my fault.
They've increased my dosage... I feel numb. The pain is finally minimal, but I can't feel anything. Nothing at all. Canopus sits in the corner each time mom or dad visits. He hasn't spoken a word to me since the accident. I suppose I haven't spoken a word to him either.
My dad hadn't cried when it happened. Neither had I. Would he if I died?
No one. Not a single person other than my immediate family has said anything. My phone remains dry as always. Maybe if I died somebody would care... No, that's a horrible way to think. I don't want people's pity.
I noticed that this is the same hospital room my grandpa died in. I had almost forgotten. It might have happened in this very bed...
The days seem longer. Though, that's probably just because I lie in bed all day. In theory, I could sleep but, I've never been good at that. Instead, I watch the same cable channels on the hospital-provided TV.
It's mind-numbing.
My eyelids are so heavy... it's hard to keep them open, but they just won't close. They refuse to. I refuse to let them.
I'm so tired.
...
"Saiph?"
A nurse asks his mother to leave for the night. Sirius had almost forgotten that is her real name. Had the nurse and his mother gotten close over these past weeks without him realizing?
His mother had been telling him a story from her work, but Sirius wasn't listening. He tuned out the whole conversation. His mind was going blank. It has been about a month... All words spoken to him are nothing more than fuzzy static.
His mother stands in the doorway and smiles gently.
"I love you, honey."
Sirius doesn't respond.
Her words ring hollow in his ears.
With a saddened expression, his mother leaves the room along with the nurse. As the door shuts, Sirius is left with the insistent beeping of the machine. The sound has been ingrained into his brain; he's heard it nonstop for weeks.
A small shuffle on the other side of the room catches his attention.
Canopus is still here.
He's sitting behind the door; they must not have seen him. The boy stands up, he appears hesitant.
"What... are you doing?" Sirius mutters in his raspy voice.
Canopus slowly advances towards him.
"You... you always have that stupid look on your face, like you have something to be sad about," Canopus' voice is cracking. Sirius examines the boy with knitted brows. "It's always... always about you. What makes you so special?"
Canopus stalks his crippled brother. They both sit in silence.
Sirius lies his head back on the pillow.
"Nothing. There's nothing special about me. I don't get it either."
"You're always in your own world, never paying attention to anyone else." He lets out a small giggle. "You must be in love with yourself."
Canopus walks behind the bed Sirius is rotting on. There is a shuffling.
"What? No... I... don't love myself."
pluck
The sound of a plug being ripped out of socket.
All in an instant, the air feels heavier.
It's getting harder to breathe.
Sirius can't breathe.
He gasps desperately but nothing enters his lungs.
Canopus, his brother, steps back in horror. A wave of guilt flushes his features. A faint "sorry" leaves his lips.
Sirius grasps his throat with casted hands; it feels like he's being strangled. His vision blurs as he sees his brother's shape continuing to back away. He feels his eyeballs could pop out at any second.
Fear swarms his mind in a violent flurry. He values his life little, but this... Is this really happening?
An anxious smile morphs his face. He wished for change, but this isn't what he meant.
With all the breath he can muster, Sirius croaks: "Wait- why- please stop, I don't... want to... die. Not like this, please- I'm... sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"
The phrase repeatedly escapes his dying body.
He doesn't know why he's apologizing. Somewhere deep within him stirs an insatiable regret.
Desperately trying to move, his crippled body doesn't allow it. He can't squirm, can't run, can't breathe... he can't do anything. The overwhelming weight of hopelessness stabs him through his sunken heart.
As his apologies get slower and less frequent, images of his life play out before him. Random snippets he doesn't recognize...
A gray cat on a stairwell; his cold breath visible on a cool morning; climbing a tree; nothing notable... Nothing special, just everyday things, yet they look beautiful. Vibrant colors, sun flares. A city skyline, a broken bike, an aged hand holding his as a baby...
His life is flashing before his eyes.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... I'm sorry... sorry... I'm sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... I'm sorry... sorry... sorry... sorry... ....."
His apologies trickle out, unmet and unatoned. His sins collapse with his limbs.
He tastes nothing... he smells nothing... his senses crumble with his lungs.
Met with the final image, his hand holding another's, the hospital room cuts to black.
Words no longer release from the husk and the last traces of air leave the boy's lungs.
His brain, starved of oxygen, shuts down.
The flatlining monitor falls deaf to his bleeding ears.
The faint light in his eyes goes out, as his breathless body stares at the ceiling...
The boy has died.