Chapter 1

The man sat staring out the window. The only thing he could see were blurs of color as the truck he was in blew past them. The sight of all the motion made him want to vomit. He got the sensation to do so but suppressed it with a swallow. It pained him to do this. His throat felt like it was burning from the vodka he had poured down it only moments before. He lifted his hand to see if he could focus his eyes on something but failed. He laughed at his own failure in an attempt to make himself feel better. The woman in the driver seat turned to him with a disappointed look on her face. He couldn’t see her eyes with the big-lensed sunglasses she was wearing but he knew behind them she was piercing his soul with the gaze. “How much did you drink,” She asked with a tone of worry in her voice.

            “I . . . . I don’t really know,” the man said, barely managing to get that out of his mouth without again feeling like he was going to vomit. A muffled tone came from underneath the man’s leg. He reached under it and pulled out a cell phone. He sat up and looked at it. As he started to focus his vision became a bit clearer, enough so that he could read the screen. He slid his finger across the screen and a message appeared.

 

IM ON MY WAY. DON’T GO IN UNTIL I GET THERE.

 

            He put the phone down on the seat and went back to staring out the window. He knew whom the message was from but he didn’t care. He wondered why she was even bothering to worry or was even coming to see him. The girl, who he fell in love with for so long, left him over something he couldn't quite even remember. Thinking about this only made him upset so he attempted to rid his mind of the thought, he couldn’t do it. It haunted him. He had gotten drunk to forget but now all he could do was think about it. He remembered the way her lips felt pressed to his, the way her hair fell across her face, how soft her skin always felt pressed against his. He thought about all the good times they had and wondered how it could have ended.

His daydream was quickly interrupted as the car door opened. If it weren’t for the seat belt he would have fallen out of the car smashing his face on the concrete. “We’re at the hospital,” She said. The woman unbuckled him and helped him get to his feet. She helped him stumble into the ER and sat him down in the waiting area on a couch. The woman went up to the check-in desk and sat down. There was a young woman sitting behind a desk wearing a cardigan over her scrubs. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“Can I help you?” the lady at the desk asked in a perky voice.

“My son has drank a lot of alcohol and says he’s going to kill himself and ranting about things that aren’t making any sense. I just dont know what to do,” She replied worried. Tears fell down her cheeks.

The woman began to type on the computer in front of her. “What’s your son’s name?” The lady asked.

“Vincent Stone” The woman replied.

The receptionist typed on the computer in front of her. ”It says here that he was recently admitted for an over dose.”

"Yea that was last week," Vincent’s mother replied.

The receptionist reached for a clipboard next to her and passed it through a slot under the glass that separated her and the woman. The woman took the clipboard. “I need you to fill that out and bring it back to me.” The woman nodded and thanked the girl and went to sit next to her son. When she arrived to where she left him she found him sprawled out over the entire couch. One leg was on the armrest, another on the floor, arms flailed everywhere. She sat down at the adjacent couch and started filling out the form.

“Do you have your insurance card?” Vincent’s mother asked. Vincent put his right hand in his back jean pocket and pulled out a black leather wallet. He flung it in her direction, hoping she would catch it. The wallet landed in her lap and she turned to him with a look of disgust. She wanted to say something but kept it to herself. It wouldn’t make much sense anyways because he would just forget when he sobered up. She continued filling out the form as her son laid there drifting off in a daydream. When she finished she got up and walked back to the receptionist. By the time she reached the desk a thin brunette girl came running into the hospital, franticly looking around until she spotted Vincent. She rushed over, kneeling in front of him. She touched his hand. A cold shiver ran up his spine and Vincent quickly sat up. He removed the black-lensed Ray Ban Aviators he had been wearing and let them hang off of the open black button up shirt he wore.

“How are you feeling,” the girl asked with concern.

“I feel decent at the moment. I’m just really drunk,” He muttered in response.

She took a seat next to him and stared into his eyes. Vincent turned and matched her gaze. He couldn’t help but be drawn in by her frosty blue eyes he had so longed to stare into once more. He had always loved to gaze into them; the beauty they held was unlike anything he had ever seen. His eyes slowly moved down to her lips. He remembered the last time he kissed her, how good it made him feel. They were his heaven. He moved in to press his lips against hers in hope to get that feeling once again but he quickly pulled away. Even though he was still in love with her he knew she didn’t feel the same way. 

            Tears slid down her cheek. He went to wipe them away but she turned her head away from him. His face went from a drunken smirk to a look of sadness. He didn’t want to see her cry. Its not what he ever wanted but he had seen her cry before. He sat there thinking about all the tears she had shed during the two years they had known each other and even though they were not all his fault he still blamed himself for her pain. He felt he should have taken better care of her. She turned back to him and noticed the look of sadness on his face. “What are you thinking about,” she asked.

“Angela . . . I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to cry over me,” He replied.

Angela looked at him puzzled and then said, “When you’re hurting it’s going to make me cry. You should know that.”

Vincent tried to stand up but only stumbled back on to the couch. He laughed at his failure once again. He was always one to find humor in dark places because it helped him cope with something he didn’t quite want to deal with at that time. He looked at Angela and stared back into her eyes. He could get lost in them for days and that’s exactly what he wanted to do. She broke his gaze only moments after he started.

“Why do you do this to yourself? Do you know how worried people are? How scared they are that they will lose you,” Angela asked with tears running down her cheeks again.

Vincent turned and took a moment to think to himself. “I don’t know Angela. No one really cares about me. I see that now.”

“This is why you need to pull your head out of your a*s Vincent. No one wants to see you like this. Every time you’re feeling sad you run to alcohol. That’s not healthy,” Angela said with anger.

Vincent looked at Angela. He felt disappointed in himself and it reflected on his face. He didn’t know what to say to her. He could only look at her with his pale green eyes hoping that she could see how sorry he was. The conversation was slowly sobering him up and he felt it. He had run from his feelings for over a month and now he was starting to feel something. It made him want to scream, cry and even punch something but he contained himself.

“Why did you come?” Vincent asked.

Angela paused for a minute. She stood up and paced back and forth. “You know why I’m here Vincent. I care about you.”

As soon as those words left her lips Vincent saw something in her eyes. A look he knew all to well. “There’s something you’re not telling me isn’t there,” He asked. Angela turned away from him. She didn’t want him to see her face. He could always read her so well. She used to love it because he knew when she was feeling upset and he’d always know the right thing’s to say. “I’m right aren’t I?”

Angela turned back to him. “I need to go,” Angela said. She started to walk towards the door with Vincent following right behind her. She turned the corner and walked out the door. When Vincent turned that very same corner she was gone. He franticly looked around for her but there was no sign of her. Like she had disappeared out of thin air. This made Vincent feel worse then he already did. He had so much more he wanted to say, to know what had been weighing on her mind.

Vincent stood in front of the doors for a few minutes just blankly staring outside. He wondered if he should run after her. It’s what he wanted to do. Just as he took one step towards the door his mother came up to him touching his shoulder.

“They’re going to take you in now,” Vincent’s mother said to him.

"I just saw Angela," he told her. His mother turned to him confused with a small hint of terror in her eyes.

      "Sweet heart, Angela died about a year ago."