Blood and lightening pain shot down the lengths of his arm as he tried to reach for her. Every muscle in his body screamed at him till the wailing screams of pain and numbness threatened to engulf him into a destitute nothingness, but he wasn’t about to give up. Not on her. Not now. Not ever! He strained against an invisible foe that held him down. Blood stained the dashboard that the shattered glass did not already litter and the frame of the car caved into him threatening to eat him whole. Yet he fought his way to her against the pain, against the numbness, against consciousness, against death; his hand stretched out towards her motionless body in the other car….
He woke up in a start to machines blaring the incessant beeps at him. His heart pounded out of his chest as the whole right side of his body sent searing pain shooting up and down the lengths of his entire body. Tears of blissful agony rolled down his cheeks as he wailed out in pain. Several arms stretched from white coats to pin him gently to the bed as two more stung into his left arm. Slowly his movement died down to twitches, his vision faded to haze and his pain turned to numbness. He saw the steady trickle of blood droplets racing into his veins through the IV and his mind was all but blank with one word screaming in his head as his vision faded to black; Allison.
Blood and lightening pain shot down the lengths of his arm as he tried to reach for her. Every muscle in his body screamed at him till the wailing screams of pain and numbness threatened to engulf him into a destitute nothingness, but he wasn’t about to give up. Not on her. Not now. Not ever! He strained against an invisible foe that held him down. Blood stained the dashboard that the shattered glass did not already litter and the frame of the car caved into him threatening to eat him whole. Yet he fought his way to her against the pain, against the numbness, against consciousness, against death; his hand stretched out towards her motionless body in the other car….
“Keith?” sorrow and uncertainty riddled the voice that broke him out of his recurring nightmare. A dampened pain laced the right side of his body in place of the searing pain that he awoke to previously. He blinked once to clear his eyes when the sterile scent of hospital assailed his nose. Coughing away the nauseating smell he followed the trail of the familiar voice. “Mom?” his ragged voice broke out. Two gently hands squeezed his left hand in response to his voice, “Keith! You’re going to be ok!” his mother sobbed. He forced his body up to a sitting position reaching over to his mother as his vision finally blurred to clarity. “Mom, I’m fine. A little battered but ..” the creaking of the door cuts the sentence short.
“Mr. Hefferton, you really mustn’t strain your body like that” an unfamiliar voice filtered through the door way, “you still need your rest”. “Dr. Wimbleton, thank you for coming” his mother welcomed the new company into the room, “he just woke up not too long ago”. “Ah don’t worry about your son, he’s a fighter alright. He gave us quite the scare at first but he wouldn’t stop fighting” the doctor smiled. Standing at 5 feet 9 inches, Dr. Wimbleton stood with a relaxed pose not stretching his medium build but maintained a friendly air about him as he walked over towards Keith’s bed. “Well lad, how’re you feeling?” the man asked in a casual yet curious tone. “I’m fine” he cringed a little as a muscle stung involuntarily at his movement. “Careful now. You don’t want to tear a muscle again” the doctor cautioned, “it’s a miracle to see you awake in just two days ..” Keith’s mind trailed away from the pleasant doctor’s words. “Two days?” he blinked with uncertainty, “Prom .. the accident … “ his eyes shot wide open. “Doctor, what happened to Allison? The girl that was in the wreck with me? Is she ok”? worry wrinkled his brow as his eyes dropped to a curious gaze. “Please tell me that she’s ok” his tan complexion grew dark as anxiety kindled a new pain in his side.
The doctors eyes flickered with concern for a fleeting second before he put forth his jovial façade again, “Allison?” he asked incredulously, “you should be more worried about your ..”, “please doc., I need to know how she is. Please just tell me that she’s alright” Keith cut in. With an exasperated sigh the doctor slowly slumbered down into the chair, Keith almost felt his heart skip a beat “Allison…” his mind raced as he struggled to keep his thoughts straight. He saw that the doctor was inexperienced with bad news, if his change in attitude didn’t give that away his eyes certainly did. “I’m sorry Mr. Hefferton” the doctor began as he shifted uneasily in his chair. “Keith” he offered in an anxious tone, refusing to delay the news any longer than the man in front of him. “Keith” the doctor said with a small pause. His brows furrowed out of either frustration or sadness, Keith didn’t know which but he knew that he didn’t like either. “Allison did not suffer from any bodily damage from the accident” he paused to consider how to finish his statement, “but … she suffered from severe retinal lacerations caused by the broken glass. Her eyes are irrevocably damaged” he finished knowing that half truths and sugar-coating wouldn’t help his patient. “She’s currently waiting in ICU for eye surgery waiting for a donor”.
He almost chocked on the breath caught in his throat. There he had it, Allison was in ICU and she needed eye donors. No, she needed eyes. “Mom?” he looked at his mother standing by his side holding his hand “may I please have a minute to talk to the doctor”? She glanced from her son to the doctor and looked back at her son, her face fraught with concern “I will be right outside if you need me” she utters forcing her hand to let go of the hand that she so fiercely clung to. She takes a few strides towards the door, pausing briefly she steals one last look at her son before walking out the door and closing it behind her.
“I want you to give her my eyes” Keith said adamantly as soon as he knew his mother was out of ear shot. Disbelief struck the doctor as Keith’s words hit home, “Are you serious?” he stammered incredulously. “Keith, now I can understand that you might have great feelings for Allison” he looked at him with disbelief “but we cant just ‘give’ your eyes to another person. There are procedures that must be followed .. “. “Like what?” Keith wasn’t giving up, he hadn’t given up on Allison before and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. He was not going to take no for an answer. “First of all, for someone to donate organs they must be dying or deceased” the doctor tried to dissuade him, “secondly the blood type of the donor must match the blood type of the person receiving the donation and ..” he trailed off. “And you’re saying that to be able to give my eyes to her I’d have to have the same blood type and be dying or dead” he had an unrelenting look in his eyes that masked the aches his body pinned him with. “I have a rare blood type and my blood needs a few antigens that blood banks don’t generally have spare for” he spoke out of his previous experience “its why I donate blood, and I saw that I was getting blood before I was sedated the last time I woke up” he continued. The doctor saw the inevitable direction of this conversation but he couldn’t stop it, even though his patient was just a teenager he was no conceited individual that the stereotype makes them out to be.
“Yes, you’re right, you do have a rare blood type” he conceded as he checked the charts on the pad hanging from the foot of the bed “and it says here that you did receive the blood from ..” he stopped flabbergasted. “How did you know?” he asked finally looking up from the reports, “it says that you received your blood from Allison”. “I was here to receive blood before in another injury but I had to wait a few days because no local blood bank carried the blood I need” his eyes grew more determined after ascertaining what he deducted from experience. “It still doesn’t matter” the doctor turned around amazed, frustrated and furious, “we cant accept organ donations unless the donor is dead or dying” he continued with a tone that sounded like that of a parent reprimanding a child. “Listen doc. Allison needs my eyes. She needs to see, she has a bright long future in front of her and if the only thing standing between her and having her sight back is me, then I’ll be glad to step out of the way” he reached for the knife lodged in the apple next to his bed.
A sense of alarm and a need for urgency ran through the paralyzed doctors head. “He wouldn’t” the thought rushed through his head, but the more he thought about it the more he knew “he would”. “Keith, don’t do this. Its not worth it” he tried to talk the youngster out of it, maybe he was wrong, maybe he was just another wild kid that’s caught up in his own sense of morals and justice that everyone so vehemently sticks to at that age, “you have a long bright future in front of you. You’re only 17, don’t throw away your life now”. “I’m not going to let Allison suffer doctor, and I’m willing to go to any lengths to save her” was his only reply as he slowly sunk the knife back home into the apple. “I’m not threatening to kill myself, I just want you to know that I’ll do it if that’s what it takes. For Allison, I’ll do anything” his voice wavered as he fought down another wave of stinging needles in his side. “Please doctor, I need your help” he pled. “Help me save her, only you can save us both” he utters as a new found numbness sedated his senses. “Only you can save us both” he whispered as his voice fell into the silent echoes of the steady inhale-exhale of deep sleep. Dr. Wimbleton stood by Keith’s bed side, an empty syringe in hand and a troubling decision on his mind.
Three Weeks Later:
Keith fumbled around for his cell phone with his right hand, his left clinging to a brown leather book as if it were his very life. He couldn’t stand it anymore, the sympathy, the pity. The familiar curve of the smooth plastic gave him a reason to break the frown creased on his lips. He needed to get away from it all, he needed to get away. He needed Russ to take him away. He thumbed open the phone with a familiar dexterity and felt around for the button ‘1’. “Answer the phone Russell” he repeated to no one in particular as the phone rang in from his speaker. Two rings, no answer. “I need you man” he was getting desperate. Third ring, his traditional ‘hang up’ ring bore more luck than its predecessors as an anxious voice filtered through “Keith, is that you? Are you ok? What the hell happened?” questions poured through to crack a slight smile on to Keith’s unusually grim face. “Dude, just .. please, I need you to get me out of here. I’m going crazy, everyone’s feeling sorry for me, its driving me insane” he poured out his heart over the phone, “Russ, please, I need you to get me out of here”. “Alright” was the answer that met his pleas, “I’ll be there shortly”. Click. The line went dead and Keith let the phone fall from his hands into his lap as he wrapped his hand around the book in his hand. Vile, it was all he had left.
A mere two hours later, Keith once stood on the grassy hill-side mound that he had come to call his sanctuary. The regular scent of pine raced up to welcome him back as he leaned against the tree, journal clutched tightly in his hand and a fleeting hope tethered to his heart in the clutches of his hands. “Allison” her name echoed through his head again like it did every other second. “I love you” the three words that were left unsaid. He had forced Russ away pleading for some time to himself, almost begging to be alone. Despite all his efforts and despite his concern and care, Russ was left with no choice but to give Keith some time alone. He owed him that, but most of all Keith needed that. The bandage around his eyes and new lasting darkness wreaked havoc on Keith, physically he pretended to be strong but emotionally he was a wreck. He couldnt show it though, he was the pillar of support, he was the one that had to be there in the time of need so he couldn’t be the one in need. Not now, not ever.
A pair of rough hands on his shoulders brought his thoughts to a quick end as he felt the rough spiky bark of the oak tree dig into his back, “you’re going to pay you stupid son of a bitch” the voice growled at him. Instinctively Keith’s arms wound tightly around the leather-bound book in his arms as he waited to feel a fist find home in his jaw. He waited for it, but it never came. “Looks like you already fucked up” the voice scoffed in a not too unrecognizable voice. “Ricky? Ricky Harris” Keith stammered to which he heard spittle and a pissed-off “what?”. “What happened is in the past, just let it go” he tried to stay calm. He felt the rough and calloused grip of the football team captain around his neck as he got pushed back into the tree again, “let it go?” he asked incredulously “let it go?!” his voice teemed with rage. “Do you know what I had to go through because of you? You stupid …” he trailed off as he caught glimpse of a leather bound book in Keith’s hands. “And what might this be?” he asked callously as he pried it away from his hands. Keith stumbled forward, swinging aimlessly as he tried to fight back for his journal. “Give it back Ricky!” his voice broke from calm to distraught. “Give it back!” he stumbled around swinging aimlessly as Ricky delved into his deepest most private thoughts.
“Now it makes sense” Ricky stammered after skimming through a few pages “you love her” he laughed. “And you gave it all for her” he continued laughing in Keith’s face, “what a moron”! “I did it before, and I would give everything for her again if I had to” Keith answered not backing down his voice still crackling with pain, “give it back”. “Everything?” Ricky smirked, “you haven’t given up evvvverything” his voice echoed with a menace that chilled Keith to the bone. “Don’t you dare!!!” his threat fell on deaf ears as he heard the heart breaking rip of papers from his journal. “NO!!!” Keith unleashes a fury of fists towards the tears as he struggles to keep his composure. A swift yet powerful blow to his stomach brings Keith to his knees. Gasping for breath, fighting the pain, unable to even cry he tried to crawl towards Ricky, with one hand clutched to his stomach. “Please ….. stop” he pleads desperately. “NOW, you have nothing!” was the only reply.
She walked back home on the route she’s taken so many times. It was hard to believe that she would be able to see again. She lost all hope. She had given up and in her moment of despair she found hope. A mysterious donor, that choose to stay anonymous, gave her the gift of eye sight. A maelstrom of emotions played through her head. Everything was happening so fast. The football game, prom, the accident, the surgery. She had so many questions but no one to answer them. She walked home down her routine path. It was hard to believe that life was going to be normal again. The sky was blue, the grass was green and she had a chance to see it all again. She was given the chance to see it all again. A gentle breeze rustled up a pile of leaves kicking them into a gentle counter-clock spin. A piece of paper floated as the odd duck amidst the dead leaves as they wind died down again, dropping its contents to the ground. “A piece of paper” she thought curiously, “probably just trash” she convinced herself. She took a few steps forward when curiosity kicked in forcing her to lean down to investigate the lone treasure. The blank paper appeared to be no more than just an empty journal record until she flipped the page over.
The clean ink writing on this side revealed that the page was indeed a journal page and from what it read, it was the last of its kind ………….
