Whatever Happened to Happily Ever After?

Silent tears streamed down a girl's face as she stroked her lover's pale hair. She tried to convince herself that he’d make it; he was a fighter. He was spirited and bright with a powerful desire to live. Someone with his kind of energy would be able to bounce back in no time.1

And yet those unsaid words seemed empty and meaningless. No amount of comforting words could soothe the constant fear that remained strong in her mind. What if he didn’t…? She couldn’t bring herself to even think those very words. She was sure that if she thought them, then it would all become too real. She wanted to cling onto that last bit of hope while she could.2

An hour. It was amazing how such a short time would be able to
determine the difference between life and death. He was too young to have his fate decided. He was supposed to play in a soccer tournament next week. She was sure he should be practicing instead of lying in the bed hooked up to tubes and monitors. He’d always been so healthy and strong; nothing had ever seemed to bring him down.3

God, what had he been thinking? Hadn’t he seen the car coming? Hadn’t the car seen him? She knew the police were working on finding who had hit him, but somehow that just didn’t seem good enough. Nothing would seem good enough until he was better. If he got better.4

Shaking her head, she attempted to remove all doubts from her mind. She couldn’t be thinking like that. He needed her to be strong and somehow convey to him that everything would be okay. Maybe if she kept her composure and didn’t cry, he would awake. He never did like it when people were sad.5

The ends of her forced smile quivered and turned into a frown. Wiping stray tears away from her eyes, Kaya exited the room. There was no way she’d be able to hold it together if she stayed in there. Just the thought of him in that helpless state nearly reduced her to sobs.6

For what seemed like hours, she and his mother paced. The doctors had assured them that they’d let them know as soon as they knew anything. So when she saw a solemn faced doctor emerge from the ICU, her face, and her stomach, dropped. Something was wrong. As he came to stand before them, his hardened angular face softened.7

“I’m very sorry Ms. Callahan, but your son didn’t make it.”8

She was too shocked to cry. It had to be a really bad dream. Yeah, that was it. The whole thing was a nightmare. It wasn’t until a pinch on the arm did not wake her up that she cried. Tears fell and fell until her body seemed like it was nothing but a hollow shell.9

Dazed and distraught, ahe slipped to the floor and buried her head in her hands. Why him? What had he done to deserve that? He was only seventeen.10

She was temporarily distracted from her grief as a uniformed police officer approached the horrified mother. They’d caught the person who’d hit him and, according to them, it hadn’t been the boy’s fault.11

Anger surged through her body as the officer’s next words registered in her head. A drunk driver had run the stop light and hit him. So that was why the driver hadn’t seen him; he’d been drunk. She slammed a slender hand against the wall. Why did he have to pay for one person’s stupid mistake? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?12

No matter how many times the question was asked, an answer was never found. Why had that stupid eighteen year old boy decided to drive drunk? Why did he get to continue leaving while her best friend did not?13