Road to Nowhere

Thanks toSierra, Steel, Iggy and Square for editing this.
Hey there. The name's Josh.I live in Ontario Canada, And I work in a small business store with my Dad on the weekends, and go to school. Y'know, the usual. For an 16 year old, my life is nothing but hard labor.
Everyday I come home from a long day of school, watch My Little Pony, go on the internet, then work on weekends. A typical day in the typical life of a typical teen, right?

The day had started like any other. I'd finished my work and headed off to the store as I normally did. It was a pretty nice workplace, as workplaces went. If the place was quiet you could quite easily sit in the back of the store and browse the internet on the coal-powered PC. Thankfully the store had appeared empty, so I quickly pulled up in the car park and sauntered through the back door. I'd barely got inside before my father came up to me, smiling happily.

"Today Josh, I want you to take the day off. You've been working all week and I reckon you could do with some downtime. Anyway, the store's been pretty quiet today so I'm sure I can handle it".

"Thanks dad, take care of yourself, alright?" I said. I happily walked out the back-door and moved to the parking place to get my car.

'So, a whole day to myself!' I thought happily to myself, planning the day out. 'Where to go, what to do...' I pulled onto the highway, cruising along at a steady speed. 'Heh, no need to rush today, I can just take i-' I snapped back into alertness as I saw a fire engine and ambulance scream past on the other side of the motorway.
I punched my father's number into my brick of a phone and waited for him to pick up. A kind of icy fear ran through me. We'd had a small electrical fault the other day and the electrician hadn't arrived when he was supposed to. It took thirty agonizing seconds for the phone to cut to voice-mail, so I quickly headed back towards town. If he hadn't picked up, it was most likely because of a customer or...
'Don't even think that. He'll be fine, its just better to double check,' I thought anxiously, following the two emergency service vehicles.

***
I pulled up outside the shop, frozen with fear. Greasy, black flames licked through the front windows, scorching my face even at this distance. Firemen rushed around, setting up equipment and pushing civilians away from the growing inferno. "Dad!" I yelled, sprinting towards the building.

A fireman leapt out of the cab of his truck and tackled me. "What the hell are you doing! The place is gone! Get back behind the cordon while we try and put the fire out!" he shouted, dragging me across the softening tarmac towards the makeshift boundary. I could do nothing as I watched the building burn to the ground, sending huge clouds of dark smoke tumbling into the sky. Slumping against a shop window, I tried to persuade myself this wasn't real. However, the immense heat and flashing, vivid sirens presented me with plenty of evidence to the contrary.

It felt like hours, just watching the dancing flames, listening to the crackle of destruction running across the wood and glass of the shop. I was paralyzed; I couldn't focus on moving any parts of my body, simply focusing on a single face: Would Dad be ok? I guess my hearing shut down as well, because as the water flew from the hoses to start their long, one-sided battle against the fire, it was a muffled spray.

Man after man rushed into the blackened skeleton of the building, picking through the debris. Their shouting didn't quite make it through my mind, but one started walking towards me. “Hey kid, you alright?” He asked, or at least I think he did, putting a gloved hand on my shoulder. The weight barely registered as I continued to watch the flames rage. Finally, I turned back to the fireman, barely aware of anything beyond the sweltering heat.
“Is he okay?” I asked, hoping against everything; he had to be alright... The man shook his head slowly and sighed, and I felt like I just dropped off a cliff side over an endless abyss.

“No. We found a body by the cashier’s desk. We.....we barely managed to ID him through dental records, But we believe it's your farther. I’m sorry kid,” he said, voice thick with regret. Suddenly, the black husk of the store collapsed as the wooden supports finally gave way, the whole thing caved in on itself as the fireman turned back, shouting orders at a couple of his peers. I watched as the man took a fire axe and ran to the still burning ruins, hacking his way into the infernal nightmare. An EMT approached from the side, handing me a cold thermos of water and a heat jacket.

“Hey... look, sorry about your dad. I promise the body will be ready in the morgue, but you gotta leave. The fire’s starting to get out of control, and all the dry brush around here’s gonna ignite sooner or later,” the man stated. He was tall and barrel chested with two thick mutton chops running down both sides of his face. His eyes were a soft light hazel and the contours of his face were just right enough to give him that pleading old man look. I took the thermos numbly, drinking thirstily as I turned back to the fire. My mind was blank as I watched the yellow spires rise and fall. The only sound I could hear was that licking as the flames destroyed my life, right before my eyes.

I vaguely heard the EMT responder sigh as he sat beside me on the open flatbed. “Come on, I’ll take you home,” he said, picking me up and setting me farther back in the flatbed before climbing in the unmarked white truck and starting it up. Only then did I come out of my stupor and blink, sliding open the small back window connecting the cabin and the truck bed. “Say kid, do you have any family? Mother, uncle, brother, aunt?” he asked, rattling off the names. I only shook my head, to which he simply sighed, agitated, “Damn.”

“They’re all dead. I’m the only one left.” The words seemed to tumble out by themselves as he started up the engine, pulling off the gravel and dirt road and onto the street. Kind of shocking how life can turn around on you like that...
“Look, I hate to do this now, but we’ll have to put you in a foster home ‘till you’re eighteen.” He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably as my stare went from numb to shocked.
“What? WHY?!” I shouted, my sadness turning to rage.

“I’m sorry kid, it’s the law. All children under eighteen are placed in foster care until a legal guardian shows up,” he said, voice low and melodious. “It’s just the way it is. I don’t make the laws.”
“H-how long can I live at home? Before they send me away?” My lips quivered as I spoke. I couldn't even begin to imagine not living at home. Losing that really would be like like losing myself; it was the last thing I had, something that sheltered me and my parents for who knows how long!

“Sorry, kid, but tomorrow’s your last day. We all gotta follow the law, and we can’t bend it for ya. You’ll just have to wait till you’re 18,” he stated, turning into the country road and hitting a good cruising speed of thirty miles per hour. The rest of the ride went on as an uncomfortable silence, just leaving me to my thoughts. He dropped me off at the house, once more saying his condolences before driving off and leaving me alone. Being alone was the last thing I needed, when the rest of my mind was burning to the ground like the store...

To take my mind off things, I figured I’d use my fallback; smiling through the smiles of others. A cartoon immediately came to mind, a fictional retreat for me. A story about six ponies living in a technicolor world, dealing with problems that seemed so small... My spirits lifted a little as their voices played through my head, and I made my way up the stairs.
Funny, everyone said I spent too much time on this old machine, but the Internet really was the only escape from reality you could use. The digital life had a certain degree of freedom that real life just couldn't give, and it’s where my retreat was within arm’s reach. A quick few key presses later on the keyboard, and I’m carried away by the simple plot lines and humor of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic.

I tried to immerse myself in it all, but those flames kept pulling me back out... it was like some ravenous animal that refused to give up its place in a cave, no matter what you tried. It just kept pulling me back... I kept trying to lose myself in Equestria, but everything just kept lighting on fire, ponies screaming in my head...
‘It’s all a bad dream, just forget... the funeral would bring back a lot of pain, but it’s a bump in the road, right?’
That just... no, this wasn't just a bump in the road. This was a pitfall that I’d have to live with for the rest of my life. A chunk of coal weighing me down... and losing that set of hands, that fatherly smile that I’d come to depend on for so long, was just another support that crumbled under me.

Still... maybe there could be a future. Dad wouldn't want me to just lie down and give up... the prospect of a foster home scared the crap out of me, for sure; no one wants to be forced out of a place they’d called home for so long. There’s just gotta be some bright side I can look to though!
Some silver lining in that storm cloud! Something that’ll get rid of the God-forsaken flames licking at the corners of my sanity!
There was a way to fix all this, right? Maybe if Twilight was here, she’d help me... she fixed problems for her friends all the time. Maybe she’d just whisk away all my troubles with a quick flash of her horn, bring my dad back...
Great, now my escape was bringing me down.

Rarity’s problems with popularity just seemed so small... I can’t do this anymore. I closed the video, and the laughs of those ponies, the songs, everything...
It all just faded back into those flames.
Just me... and that damned inferno.

Sluggishly, I went back down the stairs. Maybe some food will get my mind off things. I went down to the pantry, looking to see what we had left. Spaghettios, canned soup, and more Spaghettios. Wonderful. I grabbed a can of Spaghettios, poured its contents into a bowl, and threw it in the microwave for a couple minutes. I took it out, and the little noodles spelled out “DAD.” I pushed the bowl aside. I wasn't even hungry anyway.

I walked off to the family room. Perhaps the television would offer something to take my mind off things. But that didn't work. I barely even paid attention to what was on TV. My mind was lost in thought... Dad was dead, and I was off to some foster home. I still couldn't comprehend living somewhere other than home. It was... home, ya know? Somewhere you were used to, smelled familiar, looked the same... that one thing you wanted to remain constant. My phone’s ringing woke me from my stupor, replacing it with some thankful slight annoyance at its high-pitched chiming. It was Jake, a good friend of mine, he's like few years older then me.

“Hey man... what’s up?” I answered lethargically.
“I, er, heard about the accident. I’m so sorry, man. Must be tou-”
“I’m fine, Jake. Really, I’m fine.” I didn't need his pity. As depressed as I was, this was something for me to deal with on my own. I didn't need him hovering over me all the time.
“...Whatever you say, pal. Anyhow, we figured we’d throw you a goodbye party tonight. You gonna be able to make it?”
“Uh, sure, why not? Where?” I answered, really not sure how I felt about a party right now. I mean, sure, it’d probably be fun, but the timing is just off.
“The usual place. Fred’s got the house to himself this weekend.”
“Again?” I asked. That kid always had the house to himself. It was kind of sad really.
“Yep!” He answered cheerily. “Just come on down sometime tonight... Maybe at 9:30?”
“Sure. I’ll be there.” ’I guess...’
“Great! I’ll see you then!”

He hung up without another word. ’Wonderful,’, I thought. ’A party. Just what I needed. Ah well, might as well make the most of the time I got left here in town’. I looked at the time. ’8:57 already? Might as well head over now.’
I grabbed my keys, then went out the door, locking it behind me. Within five minutes, I was at Fred’s.
“Hey, man. You’re here early,” he said, opening the door for me after I knocked.

“Yeah... I am.” I sighed, walking into the house, ready to be done with the party already. Jake was there to greet me, booze in his hand. “Look mate, I don’t want to get drunk. I've got enough on my mind at the moment, alright?” I muttered wearily, looking at my friend with concern.
“Come on! It’ll make you feel a bit better! When was the last time you kicked back and relaxed?” Jake smirked, holding a grubby, beer-filled glass out towards me. The pounding music assaulted my senses, making me smile. It’d been awhile since I’d felt this good.

"Oh, what the hell!" I laughed, grabbing the pint. As I took the beer from Jake's hands, I took one little sip. After that sip, I tasted a little more. Then more, then more. All of a sudden I just wanted to get wasted like no tomorrow. Next thing you know I’m completely and utterly hammered. After drinking 8 cans of lager, I felt like passing out.

“Haha, you’re completely wasted! Lightweight," Jake giggled, being no better off than me.

"You sure you’re okay to drive?" I asked seriously, trying to focus my spinning mind. The bright lights and loud music shut down my reasoning, reducing me to a drooling wreck of a teen. Well, more so than usual.

"Hah, I only had about twelve beers! It’s all good,” Jake affirmed, grinning wildly. I grinned, albeit stupidly, right back at him. We staggered out to his battered Fiat Punto, a shabby, rusted mess of a car.

Unfortunately, I didn't notice the final tin, clutched in his hand. The can that meant the difference between life and death. Like I said, I didn't notice the damned thing. I slid into the passenger side, trying to stop myself from vomiting all over his stained upholstery. It took him about ten minutes just to shove the key into the ignition, but we eventually pulled away into the dark street.

Jake quickly brought the battered car up to speed. Top speed.
“Jake, we’re going a bit too fast, don’t ya think?” I laughed, half serious. The drunken side of me was having an awesome time.

“What, you pussying out on me? Man up buddy, I’ll have you tucked up in bed in no time, you little baby!” Jake giggled wildly, massively amused by his own humor. I just sat back, watching the scenery roll by while I focused on not spraying the contents of my stomach all over the windscreen. I’m only half joking.

Eventually, we pulled out onto the motorway. The blinking highlights of cars on the other side of the motorway enthralled me. I hardly noticed the snap of another lager can next to me. The beating music of the radio, the smell of lager and body odor, the taste of acrid stomach acid on the back of my throat, some screeching sound...
“Shit, Jake! EYES ON THE FUCKING ROAD!” I screamed frantically, grabbing the steering wheel. Jake looked up from his can of lager just long enough to see the braking minivan ahead.
And that, as they say... was that.

***
The doctor looked up from his mass of charts, x-ray scans and notes. The patient had just exited theatre and was on the way to ITU. Multiple fractures, brain hemorrhaging, spinal fractures, collapsed lung, comatose... The list of injuries went on and on. The other patient had been pronounced dead at the scene.

There wasn't much doubt. Word around the theatre was that the paramedics hadn't even tried to resuscitate the other casualty. There wasn't enough to resuscitate... Jerry had to take the week off after that scene. He was about to retire the next day, for Christ’s sake! The paramedics had to administer life support while the fire service were cutting the collapsed vehicle apart.

His theatre team had been swapped twice, crowds of exhausted scrub nurses, surgeons and anaesthetists had been used to bring this boy back from the brink. He’d ‘died’ several times during the surgery. Massive force trauma has that effect on the body. It’s not built to survive a two-second deceleration from close to eighty miles per hour.

Every time they’d been on the verge of stopping the surgery, he miraculously slammed back into frantic life, giving his surgeons time to patch the Somehow, the passenger had been able to swerve the car, only ripping off the driver’s side of the vehicle. It had rolled for several-hundred feet, flinging his patient around like a rag doll. He’d required immediate adrenaline just to prevent his heart from cutting out due to massive alcohol consumption.

That didn't prevent his heart stopping several times on the frantic ride to hospital. Nothing short of divine intervention could be said for how this patient survived his ordeal, and even that was a dodgy theory. Everything about this case seemed dodgy, weird, even impossible... yet here he was, surviving through careful care and a lot of life support. This kid won Life’s Lottery, and it was doubtful the prize would be handed out for a long time yet.

It was difficult to say when this lucky bastard would ever wake up... or if he even would. Granted, this kind of trauma would just be bad for anyone coming out of a coma...
It’d be up to someone else to pull his plug though. To this doctor?

Pulling the plug would be mercy to everyone.