Chapter one
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The Ballad of the Bobby

Chapter one

Bobby’s eyes opened. His eyes fell upon the ceiling of his room. It held a dull greyish tinge to it as the streetlights shined into his window. He inhaled sharply, relishing the sensation of the cold night air running through his nostrils and the back of his throat. He lay awake, like he had done for thousands of nights just like this, a troubling dream awakening him, never allowing him the solace of sleep during the night. But tonight was different in that he was never asleep at all the whole night. Not after the events of the day. He didn’t want to think about today. Never in his eighteen years had he ever been so troubled. He tried to wrap his head around what had happened today until it sank in. It sank in about an hour ago. Now he lay awake asking why. Why did this happen to them and not him?

He needed to move his body, to clear his mind. Or at least distract himself from the inevitable. He slowly sat up his aching body and put his bare feet on the cold floor. He savored the sensation of the icy air on his bare skin.

Under normal circumstances He would have smiled if it weren’t for the events of today. He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall: 12:25 pm. He sighed and looked at the bed on the other side of the room. It was empty. It was dreadfully, and depressingly empty. Bobby Shuffled over to the bed on the other side of the room. He stubbed his toe on his desk chair as he walked over, cursing quietly. He laid his hand on the bed and was surprised at how cold it was and allowed the chill run down his spine and to his hands. He started to shiver in the January night air. He ignored it and instead savored the feeling, so as to distract himself from the emptiness of the bed. He thought about the bed and the life it supported through every night. Except for tonight. It would never be used again as long as it was in the house. Just this morning, there laid his younger brother, Jackson. He was only fourteen.

Bobby felt tears gather in his eyes. He hadn’t cried since the last time this happened to his family. Jackson was a good kid. He did well in school; stayed out of trouble; worked hard, and even had a pleasant personality. He was the perfect brother. Bobby loved him more than anything in the world. He had his faults however; he was overly shy, rarely stood up for himself, and worried about what others thought of him too much. But of course these faults would never dampen the better side of his otherwise perfect persona. Jackson was awful at sports but excelled in all things school. He was noble and honest in his actions in his actions, always putting his friends before himself; things that Bobby could only aspire to.

Bobby was almost the complete opposite of his brother; cynical and generally lazy and outspoken with his opinions. He was also a world class Smart-ass. As his former step-father had once put it, he was a “sneaky bastard”, as he often snuck out at night and lied about it later. Jackson was the complete opposite as Bobby and their late father Ed. Ed had always told his eldest son that he needed to watch his smart-ass mouth and to drop the cynical and lazy attitude, lest he end up just like his father: an unemployed, lazy sot living with his younger brother. Yes that was where he died; in his younger brother’s apartment, with a bottle of whiskey still in his hands.

Bobby was ashamed of his father and never spoke of him to his friends. He still loved his father anyways because they were one in the same. Bobby hopped he was different enough from his father to avoid his fate. The day Ed died was the second worst day of Bobby’s life. But it was nothing compared to the number-one-worst–day-of-his-life, today.

Today was supposed to be a special day, one that even Bobby looked forward to. His uncle Wayne was visiting from his home in Colorado for an after-Christmas party. Wayne was a good man the complete opposite of his brother Ed and his youngest brother. Bobby’s sister, brother, mother and uncle Wayne were all in the family SUV, travelling back to the house from the airport in Charlotte. It was the “ungodly” hour of 4 am with everyone asleep except for Bobby and the hapless driver, his mother. She was having a difficult time driving through the uncharacteristic January downpour that usually never happens two days in a row in the piedmont area of North Carolina.

As luck would have it, a car swiftly decelerated in front of the SUV and began to swerve causing Bobby’s mother to slam on the brakes a little too hard but nonetheless colliding with the other car, sending the SUV into a terrifying skid. All the occupants were jarred awake at that moment as most of them relished their last few seconds on Earth. The SUV turned to the left and fell sideways, still skidding on the metal of the doors. A millisecond later, the SUV was hit by a dump truck on the underside, sending the car into a roll and into a ditch a few hundred feet away, upside down. Bobby struggled with his seat belt and kicked his door open, grabbing his frail and limp brother as he did so. He grimaced and dragged himself and Jackson out of the wreckage and into the rain.

He stood up and, cradling his brother in his arms, ran from the car still containing his family. He got fifty feet away and dropped to the ground in the mud and gently put his brother on the ground. He looked at his brother’s face and saw a peaceful expression, as though he were only asleep. He wasn’t breathing. Bobby let out an exasperated sob and quickly began what he knew of CPR. Three rescue breaths, twenty chest pumps, three rescue breaths, twenty chest pumps…

He didn’t know how much time had past. All he was aware of was the explosion of the SUV and cracking of Jackson’s ribs as Bobby increased his franticness to save his brother He couldn’t lose him. He was only fourteen! He was way too young to die. Jackson increased his efforts through his tears and frustration. He became angry and put all the energy he had into saving his brother. He only stopped when the EMS stopped him and put him on the stretcher. They also tried to put Bobby on one too. But he was… perfectly fine. What? After a car crash that killed his brother and possibly his family he was unscathed and unharmed. He was momentarily perplexed at the absurdity of it until he decided not to think about it and focused on his brother who was now being hauled into and ambulance. Bobby followed suit and climbed into the back of the truck…

He was sitting in the hospital, next to the operation room that held his brother who he had been saved for now. Jackson’s life was now in the hands of the doctors who operated on him. He suffered from severe brain damage, broken pelvis, ribs, and sternum (the latter two courtesy of Bobby). Bobby sat silently on the chair as a doctor walked up to him from down the hall. He told Bobby that none of them would come home. Not ever. Bobby’s mind raced and almost instantly denied it. That’s not possible, they were all fine only a few hours ago he thought. The doctor watched him for a moment before telling him how lucky he was. He should be thankful, the doctor had told him. Be thankful? This has to be worse than death. He sat still with a stony expression on his face, pretending to ignore the doctor. An hour later, another doctor slowly stepped out of the operating room with a defeated look on her face. Bobby instantly stood up and walked towards the doctor. She visibly flinched at his size and backed away. She then looked directly into Bobby’s eyes and told him that his brother was in a coma and would not be waking up…

The next few hours were a blur to Bobby as he signed papers and death certificates and met with distant relatives at the hospital. He was very distant from the people in spirit. He felt disconnected from everything around him as he mindlessly hugged people and signed papers. The only relative present that he cared about was his youngest uncle Eric. He was forty years old, with a scraggly black and grey beard and long hair. He was always chill when Bobby was around even though he suspected that Bobby blamed him for the death of Ed. But bobby didn’t …

The entire day was a blur. He reflected on the events of the day as he knelt at his brother’s empty bed. Bobby cried. He cried for his sister. He cried for his Father. He cried for his mother. He cried for his uncle. He cried for his brother… But most of all he wept for himself. The tears ran from his eyes and onto the bed below him, wetting it. He slowly stood up and decided to go for a walk, maybe he would jump from the abandoned wooden railroad bridge that ran over the Broad river and end it.

The place was far away and it was quite a walk. He would have to walk across town, through the cemetery and onto the tracks where it was about a mile or so to the bridge. He stood up from where he knelt and dressed himself in jeans and a tee shirt and a jacket to keep off the freezing rain. He stepped out of the room and down the stairs. He walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. He rummaged through the contents until he found what he was looking for, a bottle of 70 proof whiskey.

He pulled the cap and took three long droughts of the amber liquid. It stung his throat and his eyes watered. He grimaced at the taste and took another three droughts. He put the cap back on the bottle and began to walk out the door, leaving it wide open with the bottle still in his hand. He stepped into the rain and enjoyed the sensations of the cold air against his skin and the rain on his face. He started to stumble down the sidewalk as he tried to keep his balance. Bobby felt the effects of the alcohol almost immediately as the warm sensation emanated from his chest. The trek was a blur all up until he stepped onto the bridge where he downed half the bottle of whiskey and threw it down eighty feet into the broad river. He began shouting and screaming obscenities about the world and it’s cruelties.

He then realized that he was the least worthy of surviving the crash. He wasn’t the smartest of them, he wasn’t good looking or noble or nice or anything that he could call a complement. His final thought went to his father, Oh well, I went just like my old man…only worse. And he jumped into the placid river. He fell at the same speed as the raindrops and passed out halfway down… until there was a flash of yellow light emanating from inside of Bobby’s chest and he disappeared, leaving the river silent, save for the rain hitting the water…

The last thing Bobby remembered before passing out completely was a sideways image of a regal looking unicorn… Pegasus…white…thing… It raised slight confusion in Bobby’s intoxicated mind before he went completely out.

Author's Note

Read and review plz