James

"You need help up, James?" his dad asked, offering a hand. James did not reply. He ignored the hand and got up himself. His beaten body rebelled against his resolve and screamed in pain at the effort but James managed to keep a straight face on his accent. The nurse interrupted the odd exchange between the two and handed his dad a pill bottle. She was saying something to his dad about the pills but James was not listening, he was much too busy trying not to fall back down. By the time the initial fatigue from getting up ebbed away from him it was time to go. Though James didn't look back, he felt Derek's gaze on his back as he walked out the door. The hallway made their footsteps echo loudly, so the two people in it sounded like an army. James kept his silence while his dad hummed a happy little tune.

Though despite the optimistic outlook of the song he was humming, James couldn't help but recognize a sad expression nestled into his dad's features. They walked through the puddle ridden parking lot, it was raining. The dreary sky wept cold grey tears that streaked down to the ground in great bowing arcs. The gentle caress of the water swept down James's brow, like broken pieces of ice sailing swiftly down a brook. By the time James and his father got to the car they were soaked. So when the rhythmic murmur of the raindrops were silenced by the staccato door slams the only noise left was the awkward silence ringing in their ears. They began the long drive home, his dad still humming that stupid little tune. Throughout the journey his dad kept making sideways glances at James, opening his mouth slightly to speak, but then closing it again as if thinking better of what he may have said. James offered him no help to his apparent wish for conversation, he instead pretended not to notice.

Unsettled from the awkward silence James settled his gaze on the window. It was glazed with raindrops, turning his view into smeared pastel colors of the countryside that seemed to be melting down to the earth as the water slid in weaving lines down the glass. He watched as the world before him liquidated behind the veil of tears that had fallen from the churning grey heavens. Other cars passed, their headlights swept across the raindrops, which in turn winked at him with refracted light that rippled across their domed surfaces. The light and water danced together across the glass, smearing the world in the wake of their waltz.

His gaze became unfocused from the window as his dad started humming again. James looked over at him, the sad expression once again wrought into his father's face. And with a sudden jolt of realization James stiffened, he now recognized what he was humming. A flood of memories swept through him, a torrent of happy memories. His mother had been a composer, she made a living by writing music for movie companies. He remembered with a dull happy feeling the piano music that once lived and breathed within their house. The happy memories slowed to a stop, as he remembered the silent house they lived in now, the music long since dead and decayed. That stupid little tune his father was humming, had been the last piece she was working on before.... Before the car accident.

The car pulled into the driveway, the familiar forest outside James's window regarding him accusingly. Branches of trees drooped low, the wet leaves had turned a dark teal, and the algae on the tree bark showed bright lime green against darkened trunks. Wordlessly, James pushed open his door and pulled himself out. He walked through the rain towards the door. He stopped as his dad called after him.

"I'm actually on my lunch break James, I need to head back to work. Think you'll be alright by yourself?¨ he asked hopefully.

"I'll be fine," James mumbled back.

"Wait, what did you say?" his dad asked, unable to hear James over the downpour.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead dad!" he called back, this time a little more loud than necessary. His dad closed the car door and started the car again. James watched the wheels move back a couple inches before they stopped, the door opening once more.

"Oh, and I should probably give you these," his dad said, tossing the pill bottle to James. James, not expecting it moved his arm to slow and the bottle landed on the ground. His dad failed to notice that however, for he had already ducked back into the car and started to pull out of the drive. James was entirely soaked at this point, as he watched the car disappear down the road out of sight.

"Great," James said, to no one in particular. He stooped down and scooped up the pill bottle, wiping the slimy muck off with his hand. He trudged into the door, closed it behind him and leaned his back against it. He closed his eyes and sighed, sliding his back down the door till he sat on the floor leaning against it. Through the house, all he could hear was the clock. It ticked rhythmically, pounding into his skull. James unscrewed the cap on the bottle, poured about a dozen pills into his palm. He stared at them, contemplating the lethality of the drug in an overdose. They seemed to call to him, offering him mercy. The key to a sweet sweet sleep, one he didn't have to wake from. But remembering the last line of the note he closed his palm on the pills. Rains last words echoed in his head,

And I know that when I leave, you'll want to come with me. But this world needs you James, it needs more good people. Because your the best person I know...Goodbye James, I love you.

James opened his eyes suddenly and threw the pills in his hands across the floor angrily. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head in them. This time though, the tears would not come. He shivered from his wet clothing, and waited for the inward sob, to stop. But it felt as though it would not. And through it all the clock reminded him of the present. The hands moving on and on across the face, tick...tick....tick...