Red: Part Two

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Clyde wakes up in the hospital, numb and fatigued. He was alive, but Clyde wasn't sure if he was happy about it until something extraordinary occurs.

I slowly opened my eyes, but all I could see was white. I tried to move my body, but every muscle I strived to work was in thundering pain. I let out a cry of agony and fell back onto the bed. Where am I?.

Once I regained my senses, I lifted my head off the plush, cream-colored pillow and scanned the room, trying to get an idea of where I was. From the first glance, I recognized that I wasn’t in my bedroom. Hell, I wasn’t even in my own house! My heart raced from nervousness and the beeping from a heart monitor beside me announced that. I'm in a hospital?! My father, who as in the corner of the room reading a People magazine, heard me shifting and immediately race over to me.

“Son!” He shouted, grabbing hold of the bed frame. “I-I, I d-didn’t even-”

He was cut off by the eruption from the door, revealing my little brother and my mother. They both looked groggy and their eyes were irritated and baggy from crying and lack of sleep. Aside from my mother, I was at least relieved to see that Jack was okay.

“Clyde!” My mother and little brother yelled in unison. My mom went to join along side my dad as Jack threw his arms out and hugged me, tears flowing from his eyes and onto my hospital gown. I hugged back, struggling to hold back my tears.

“I-I’m so sorry, Jack-” I said before i was cut off by his sobbing and gibberish.

"No-no, Clyde! it wasn't your f-fault! I knew something was wrong I-I should've t-tried to h-help you b-b-but I couldn't and n-now you're in the hospital and-"

Before he could finish, a young, female nurse entered the room with a clipboard and a tray of assorted syringes and medicines.

"It's 2:30, i need to give Clyde his medicine. I need everyone to go wait in the lobby, including the parents." She spoke, setting the metal tray beside my bed. My parents nodded and had to pry Jack off of me. They exited the room without another word.

The car ride home was dead silent. Because the nearest hospital was a mere 45 minutes away from our house, it was going to be a long drive home. My father was focused on the road and my mother was gazing out the window, her fingers intertwined with his own. I looked over to my brother, who was out like a light. According to my parents, I was unconscious for 48 hours and Jack refused to sleep until he knew I was okay, so it was understandable that the little guy was fast asleep. I exhaled and turned to face the window, watching the droplets of water from the Oregon rain collide with the glass.

I'm so worthless, I told myself. I'm so fucking worthless that I can't even kill myself. I ran my hand through my long, black hair and tried to hold back tears, hoping my parents wouldn't see me crying. Again.

After a long hour of silence, we finally arrived to our apartment complex. My father swiftly guided the car into the driveway and parked it. Once it was completely stopped, i bursted out of the door and ran inside.

I slammed the door behind me as I hurried into my room, unable to control the tears. I slammed my head into my pillow, not knowing what to think of this. I slit my wrists all the way down my arm, how did I not die! Wiping my eyes, i lifted my sleeve up to examine the wound. It was expertly stitched up, still red and slightly bloody. I winced when i ran my fingers across it, jolts of pain running through my body. I shoved my sleeve down and laid back onto my pillow.

How did I survive that? I asked myself. There's no way I could've lived from that. Maybe... My eyes widened. This was God giving me a second chance...

With all the energy i had, I crawled out of bed and walked over to the large mirror that covered my closet door. I planted my feet in front of it and stared into the reflection that confronted. I stood 5"11 and raven-black long hair that came down to my eyes and ears. I was fairly thin, but not muscular. I stared into my piercing blood-red eyes.

Rolling up my sleeve another time. I examined my severely scarred arm and noticed something odd. There was a symbol tattooed onto my wrist. It was very detailed and drawn with a thick, black ink. From the looks of it, it resembled a "t." The tips of it were curved, almost like a fancy-type of font. After trying to put the pieces together, it hit me like a brick.

It's a cross! I almost yelled aloud.

Up until today, I never had that before. Why was it all of the sudden there? It is God giving me a second chance...

Being overwhelmed and exhausted, i rolled down the black sleeve of my shitt and decided to take a nap. Before i retired to my bed, i remember taking one last look at myself and thinking one thing:

I'm going to change.

 

 

Epilogue

 

Throughout the week, things started getting better. My parents made a promise to cut their drinking habits, the scars started to heal, and people at school didn't bother me anymore. I went back to church with the cross on my wrist clearly visible and the pastor gladly let me return. He even used me in one of his sermons. I was actually able to wake up feelig estatic and put a smile on my face.

It was a Friday afternoon and school had just gotten out for the weekend. I was at my locker, shoving textbooks and papers into my small, navy blue backpack when i felt somebody lightly tap my shoulder. Slightly startled, i flipped around and was faced with a girl that I had never even seen before. She was about 5"6, wearing a plain red shirt, black cut-off shorts and black converse. She had jet black hair with a red bow resting on her head. She smiled and opened her mouth to speak.

"Hi Clyde!" she said, enthusiastically. Her voice was slightly higher pitched and filled with joy.

I felt somewhat skeptical, being that I had never met this girl before and she had already known my name. With one quick glance, i locked my eyes on hers and noticed something that practically made my jaw drop.


She has red eyes.


 


Submitted: December 20, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Devin Baca. All rights reserved.

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Comments

natalayaevans

The guy with red eyes meets the girl with red eyes! Cool ending. Its good to know he made the right use of the second chance he got. Good story out there...

Sat, December 20th, 2014 5:53am

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