Blake Ordeal

Blake Thurr opened his eyes tiredly.
It had been a long night the day before and he felt sick and exhausted.
He couldn’t remember much about what had actually happened. He remembered leaving and then arriving home when it was very dark.
Blake lay on his back again for a minute or so before he climbed out of bed, showered and dressed.

He walked into the kitchen to meet the gaze of his mother, who was finishing off the washing, and walked towards the cupboard to get some cereal.
“You’re father’s eaten it all. You’ll have to have a piece of toast,” came his mothers voice across the white counter. He wanted to complain but his mother’s voice didn’t sound like she was in the mood to give him a fair argument.
“Where is dad anyway,” Blake said as he placed to piece of bread into the toaster.
His mother didn’t answer.
He was going to question her further but suddenly the doorbell rang and she quickly ran to get the door.”
Blake’s toast popped up so he smothered it in butter and boiled some water so that he could have a coffee after he’d eaten.

After ten minutes his mother walked back into the room with tears streaming down her face.
“Mum,” Blake began but she held up her hand for him to be quiet.
She paused, then went on.
“Me and your father had an argument last night, so he decided to go and stay with his brother.”
Blake must have looked devastated because his mum quickly said in a reassuring tone, “It was only for a night.”
Blake nodded.
“He was driving back home this morning when.”
Her voice broke and Blake stepped up to comfort his emotionally wasted mother.
“When… two cars hit him head on….”
The silence that followed was only broken by the sound of Blake's mug of coffee smashing on the cold tiles they were standing on.
“The police man thinks they were drag racing,” his mother said after a time.
“Is dad Ok,” Blake whispered.
His mother shook his head.
“But he’s alive.”

Blake sat quietly in the back seat of their van as they drove towards his hospital.
If you had seen him in the state he was in at that moment you wouldn’t have believed he was usually a strong, controlled figure that never cried or gave up hope.
In fact, he was a broken young man, whimpering in the corner.
He felt like a child, so small in a world so huge.

Blake remembered that once his mother had a small accident and he had been so worried that she was hurt or trapped. But compared to what he was feeling at that moment his mother could have been sitting at home watching TV and it wouldn’t have made too much of a difference.

The old van parked and his mother beckoned for him to get out.
He struggled to walk but regained control and led his mother into the hospital.
It was a twisting maze of rooms and wards but still he managed to find Ward 13 on the eastern side of the building.
A whiteboard sat behind the receptions desk with a table that stated each patient and their room.
He could hear his mother sniffing behind him so he took the chance and led his mother towards his father’s room, even though he was hardly holding back tears himself.
It was only a short walk a to his fathers room but to him it seemed like hours.

A nagging feeling tugged in the back of his head and he struggled to see what it was.
He searched all of his wrecked emotions and found many he didn’t know he had ever felt before.
He found the distractive emotion as well.
Anger.
Amidst all of his sadness and worry and wonder, a trace of anger against the two idiot drivers who had hit his father and cost his family so much more than it had cost him.
The anger in side of him grew and grew and he felt that he might explode in it but he reached the door just in time and was brought back to the real world. The world that he now must face in the shape of his injured father.

Blake placed his hand on the cold handle of the closed door in front of him.
He pulled it down and started to push.
He had no idea of what he would face when the door was open.
But inside he knew he had to face it. Even though he knew of the grief it might cause him.
It had to be faced