miles of clouded hell

[MATTHEW (SHY) GRAY]

It all seemed to happen in slow motion.

Matthew could remember glancing over at William, the two were walking home just after sunset from the park. William was holding an open bag of chips, which he shared with Matt as they traveled. They weren't talking, they didn't need to. They rounded the bend that would lead them back to their neighborhood, and a car ahead with their lights on swerved a bit on the road. Thinking nothing of it Matt turned his head to look at Will and smiled, and then froze. The car sped ahead, past him and he heard a sickening thud. Matt stared blankly at the prone form of his friend, limbs twisted at awkward angles and eyes wide open, dull and unseeing. He knelt down next to him, blood soaking into his jeans as it seeped from the broken body of the fifteen year old.

A small flock of birds took off in the distance, and time melted away as Matt stared at Will. At some point, there was sirens and bright flashes of light, and by the time Matt came to again the sun was long gone and he was shivering from cold. Paramedics pried him from the spot and checked him over, while his own gaze followed every movement they made towards Will. His heart clenched in his chest and he heard a strangled cry, surprised to realize it was his own voice. They frantically tried to resuscitate his broken body, loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Matt followed, despite the calls and cries for him to stop.

The sirens turned off halfway to the hospital.

They zipped his body into a black bag, and Matt sat and focused on breathing. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut and was wheezing for breath. It crept up further, freezing his throat and suddenly he was gasping and clutching at his windpipe and he was so afraid. Nurses clustered around him with empty soothing words that didn't even register, and tears flooded from his eyes as he gasped for breath that wasn't there. A passing doctor joined the fray and forced the boy's head between his knees, murmuring into his ear idly. Slowly he could breathe again, sniffling pathetically as his parents and Will's parents crowded into the room and surrounded him.

"He's..."

Matt's words failed him, and he blacked out. By the time he regained awareness, he was standing outside in the rain wearing all black. A casket was in front of him, and he was holding his dad's hand so hard his knuckles were white. A wave of emotion swept over him and blurred his vision. The agony. The every present agony...the heartbreak...the anger. His heart clenched and his knees shook, he couldn't do this. He couldn't watch as they buried the only friend he had, the one person who promised to stand by him no matter what happened and no matter what anyone said. The one friend who never needed to say anything out loud, who would lay with him for hours on the grass watching the clouds just because Matt was too lazy to get up.

His legs failed him and his head spun as he was suddenly lifted and carried away. He released a pathetic whine and looked up at his dad, who's mouth was set into a firm line.

"I know Shy....I know."

The dam broke and Matt released heart-wrenching sobs into his dad's shirt, his heart broken and a void ripping open in his soul.

He'd lost nearly everything.