shatter

Pale exhausted light comes in through the large glass paned windows making the pallor of Lucas' face look even worse. His forehead drips with sweat tinted red and he sits holding his ankle close in pain. Even the sweatshirt I hold pressed against his forehead began to slide over the soaked hair making it hard to keep it steady. 

“What's with that face, Keila I'm fine,” he smiles up at me. No you aren't, we both know that. I shift my weight on the old couch a cloud of dust rising in my wake. He winces as I move the sweatshirt to get a better view of the gash. “See I didn't jump this time,” he pointed to his wound eyes lightly glazing over. “I'll be back to my handsome gallant self in no time.”

Panic flutters in my stomach like feathery birds and I have to turn my back to him before I cry uncontrollably. The impending tears burn my eyelids like acid. It's all my fault.

*      *      * 

When I had met Lucas it had been freshmen year. He was a junior but of course that didn't stop him from making friends with most kids in Burrillville High School, of course that included me. Even when he graduated we hung out. Sometimes at this guy's house, sometimes at that one's, but never alone. He was the carefree spirit to counter my gloomy one.

People came to take us as a set never mentioning one without the other. The time we spent extended into our private lives. Every Friday night was movies and pizza at my house. He made my heart thump but I ignored it as I always did. Even if I wanted it to be more than friends he would never choose the gloomy serious Keila Marshals. We were the best of friends but the worst matched in terms of a relationship.

I respected Lucas in ways I had never before, because he was everything I wanted to be. I didn't think anything about it when he asked me out that night, we were friends as I said.  He brought me out into the woods behind his family home. We went deeper and deeper until I started to get suspicious. Where on earth is he taking me?  When the evergreens with their picky needles finally gave way, a Victorian style house stood in the clearing. Ivy had grown up the side encasing it in a timeless way preserving every window and board. It was obvious it hadn't been lived in for centuries. 

It was breathtaking and the only thing more shocking than the house was when he started climbing onto the roof. The ladder was mismatched against the out of time manor with its chrome steel and Heavy Duty printed on the side. His hand extended out to me pulling me up in front of him before he went any farther. He looked so excited when ever I turned to him, like a kid on Christmas. My heart thudded  and pounded against its bone prison with every move he made.

Lucas and I sat on the roof and waited. For what he wouldn't say but he shook with excitement. I got restless and cold and refused to sit here any longer without my sweatshirt: conveniently at the bottom of the ladder.

“I’ll be right back,” I told him. The sky darkened and I got up. Taking one, two, three steps before tripping. Holy hell.

“Hey, wait you're gonna miss it. Comeback,” he said turning eyes wide as plates when my foot slammed down and through the roof. Suddenly I was falling, and falling down, with Lucas right behind me.

He caught me and took the brunt of the fall, bouncing his head on the wooden floors.

*       *       *

Now here we are two hours later, the wound has gotten worse and the house is locked down tight with no way out. I'm pacing back and forth in front of him sobbing hysterically.

Lucas is showing signs of a concussion. I sit beside him rivers running down my cheeks. Very weakly he wipes them away and says, “you know this is just my luck. I finally decide to tell you how much I love you and this happens.” He laughs but it dies out. It must be too painful to laugh. My heart clenches at the sight of him. He closes his eyes and I realize I do not want to lose him. I love him too much. Wait, he loves me? A sad tragic happiness builds up inside my chest

I have to get out of here, I have to get him help. I look at the window. I look at the bloody sweat shirt, and adrenaline runs through my veins. I cocoon my hand with the sweatshirt and, arm in front, run straight at the window.

Shatter!