Days pass, and winds keep kidnapping the few green leafs, that hardly grew up on my young, yet dry trunk. This miserable life everyone's holding onto is overrated, at least to me. My dad once told me that " The more you give interest to your fear, the more you get imprisoned by it ". Maybe he said that intentionally, knowing that i'd live a miserable life after he's gone. I only wish he'd explained how I could that.
Peter smiled, widely " i cant believe i wrote that when i was 7. Quite the kid i was " then he instantly grinned from ear to ear " but life really goes on ".
He closed that old metal box filled with musty papers and returned it back to its safe place, under the bed. It was a quite good idea to check his old writings and diaries, at least its a short break from his summer routine. But peter almost regretted doing that when his mother opened up his door with no pre warning, he was a second away from getting busted, checking his painful diaries.
“Oh thanks god you’re here.. its kinda difficult to find you, you know ? I need a favor “
" sure mom "
" you know, your aunt is visiting us, and …."
" you need some stuff from the market "
" Exactly "
His short brown hair tickled his eyes when he jumped off the bed and went down through the house old stairs. Almost everything in that house was old, beginning from the carpets and ending with the televisions and sofas. Peter couldn't complain though, as it was his grandpa's house. The house was small woody one and the rooms were close to each other. Red carpets covered the floor in most parts of the house.
Peter hasn’t seen his father for ten years. He was seven when the shadow of his father disappeared. His mother told him he died, but doubts never stopped invading peter’s imagination. He had a younger brother and sister, fred and karla, they were almost at the same age. They tied their mother's apron strings, and no one could ever deny that these two were the noisiest kids a single mother could ever have .The house had a big back yard, it was fred and karla piece of heaven .
She looked at him for less than a moment, then rolled her eyes back to the tv, his grandma. Her best friend was her rocking chair, the one she bought right after peter's been born. She was behind the times and was bursting with curiosity over everything. Simultaneously, she had a heart of gold.
" where to, kid ? " she asked, without even looking.
"Mom needs some stuff, You know, Aunt megan is coming “
“ Huuuuuh ? “ she cried, then finally turned her face “ why hasn’t anyone told me ? “
“ I guess they have told you “ peter innocently replied, but that did not aid him at all. She threw the closest subject to her, the remote controller, neatly at peter’s face. The latter barely dodged it.
She yelled “ Are you saying I’m old enough not to remember things ? “
Peter slowly backed off, while apologizing.
On the corner of the small warm living room, karla and fred, his younger brother and sister were as busy as a beaver building a dam, exploring their mom's ipad, surreptitiously. Peter glanced at them, then his mouth spitted " what are you doing huh ? five years old kids shouldn't be playing with adults stuff right ? you know mom would kill you if she saw you ! "
Karla shouted " Im not five, im six " then fred turn came " and im four "
peter sighed desperately " kids these days… LEGO were like a dream to me "
He swiftly pushed the black door and got out of the house. It would take him only fifteen minutes if he walked, three minutes by car. He took his call, he's walking. Going to that small market at night reminded him of school days, where killing time had no better place than there.
" if i only went with jennifer and dylan to that chinese cousine. " peter complained. The street was calm at that time, no cars nor pedestrians at all. Peter was starring at the butterflies playing around the light pulp, exploring their beauty.
The leaves of the trees felt on his head often, each one reminded him of a memory, some pulled him back, but some injected doses of hope.
Few minutes later, he found himself inside of the market, at last. It was a small white colored one. Some boys were smoking at the far corner, observing the road perfectly, not to be busted by their parents.
It was a quiet small market, but well organized. Gabi Martinez, the owner knew peter very well, he's an old school customer after all.
" Yes mom, i'm there, tell me again what you want " peter called his mom, but he couldn't listen very well, there were two voices mumbling behind him.
Peter tried to walk away, and then repeated the same question, but the noise behind got even louder. Peter turned his back, and found two guys in there twenties staring at him, with a grin on their faces. They were muscled, and the evil look on their faces reflected perfectly their sinful intentions.
" Go to your mommy, little chick " one of the two said. From the way he talked, he was obviously drunk.
In that furious moment, peter acted wise . He turned his back and walked away, then called his mom again, as if nothing happened.
But the two voices haven't stopped. Peter's face went red, but he kept ignoring.
“ He’s talking to his mom. How innocent “
“ Look at him, I bet his mom is more beautiful than yours “
“ You know, I can buy you and your mom anything you want “
The gloves were off ! Petter turned his face toward him and his fist was flying fast to that man's face. He wanted his head on a platter, but his friend grabbed peter's arm and gave him a hard punch on his stomach. Peter felt dizzy, and fell on the ground. The first man kept kicking peter who was lying there, powerless.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Maria heard nothing but her son's painful screams penetrating her phone. Her mind couldnt stop sending stressful signals, bounding her to an endless chain of anxiety. There was no time for unneeded questions like "who might want to beat my boy? " or " why would he scream like that? ". She instinctively knew her son was in danger, and all she could do was to run to where he was, and pray from the deepest point in her heart he's fine.
She got out of the house, with awful pictures projecting in front of her, none of them was blood free. Those pictures blocked her mind, that she didn't even think of taking the car. Running in that tree-full street under the faint lightning was never as that bad. She was stepping one step ahead, and her other leg was pulling her back, she wanted to save her only loving son, the man of the house, the boy who suffered but came back and refused to fall, but she couldn't bear seeing him in a pathetic shape.
Passing through that street was slower than anytime before, and maria was finally standing ahead of the white colored market. Close to the door there was an old man, smoking a cigar. She held him with a strength of a thousand men from his black shirt, and asked him swiftly " what happened to my son, tell me know ".
"How the hell would I know, get your hands off me "
Maria was breaking out in a cold sweat, she hurried to the inside but no one noticed her insane invasion, they were all circling the kid beaten black and blue, peter.
Later at the same night, between the cold walls of benhamton hospital, a conversation, colder than the hospital itself, was being held between two doctors. They were walking fast, passing those dark brown halls. Benhamton was quite at that time, quite in a way that you might hear the screams coming out of some rooms . It was the closest hospital to peter's house, about twenty minutes away by car.
The first doctor said, as he was looking at the papers in his left hand, " Whose the patient in room 180 ? "
" a 17 years old boy "
" what happened to him ? "
" he had a fight "
" when ? "
" couple of hours ago "
" whats the chief complaint ? "
" head concussion resulting in a coma "
" Hum …. "
One hour pass midnight, inside of benhamton's elevator, another conversation was taking place.
" I'm sorry, megan. It wasn't supposed to be like this " Maria was explaining.
" You know its not your fault. you shouldn't be worrying about minor things like that. What's really important is peter's health "
" Oh, poor son. "
" did they find them ? "
" No. They ran away. The detective said that it may take days, and that the clues are quite few "
" Why do think this happened ? i mean why did they beat him up ? "
" i have no idea " Let's just hope peter wakes up and tells us everything "
The elevator's door opened, Maria and her sister went out, heading to room number 180. The hospital was cold, but the faint lighting gave it the quite, calm atmosphere. Most of the decorations were contemporary. Ten steps away from peter's room, there was a coffee machine, both maria and megan gave themselves a very good portion of caffeine, for no particular reason.
less than an hour, two white coted men entered peter's room. Maria instantly stood up and asked " whats wrong doctor ? why isn't he awake yet ? "
" His head was injured, and the pressure exerted on his brain was enough to keep him unresponsive to the environment"
" unresponsive to the environment ? " maria asked, anxiously.
" in other words, he's on coma right now "
The younger doctor wanted to show off at the presence of this old experienced doctor, he fluently said " head injuries can cause the brain to swell, as a result, the fluid pushes up against the skull which will eventually make the brain push down on the brain stem causing some damage to the RAS, the area responsible for awareness. "
The old doctor looked at him resentfully, as if he was saying " its not necessary to tell all of that ", he loudly said " Anyhow, don't worry and lets hope he becomes well in less than a week "
Maria's shivering lips desperately said " lets hope ? "
Before his answer, the whole dark orange room heard someone mumbling, barely.
" Basement…. Dad ….. Hate ……. Port " Peter chocked
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