The Tragedy of Eden's Gate

14 - The Other Side

Every single hour, minute, and second, every single Before and After collapses into one, eternal moment. All I can do is stare, numb, as reality forges on without me.

"No!" Sam screams. "No, no, no—!"

Drawers snap free. Cutlery goes flying. Curtains shudder beneath Sam's rage. Chairs are flung, cupboards are thrown open. Chaos descends.

My dad stumbles back and lets the bloody knife clatter to the floor. "What the fuck—?"

"Fuck off!" Sam bellows, fury setting off explosions in his eyes. He rushes for my dad and tries to shove him.

No.

He manages it. He sends my dad sprawling.

The strength leaks out of me. I can only stare at my jumper, dripping with blood, and let myself crumple to the floor. The numbness fizzles away, and white hot agony lances liquid fire through my veins.

Vaguely, I hear the thud of footsteps, and the roar of an engine.

He's leaving. He's running off and leaving me here to bleed out.

I feel a vague sense of irony. Of déjà vu.

Sam collapses to his knees at my side, his misty face cracked with tear stains. "No, no, no," he moans, his voice soft and echoing as though he's caught between states. As though he's deep in a well and falling deeper. "Theo, please. Please, not like this."

I'm not sure when it happened, but my hands have jumped to my side, pressing against the wound. They're not pressing hard enough, because Sam's insubstantial hands cover mine and press a little harder, and a pained noise rushes from me.

"I'm so sorry," he manages. His form flickers. He's fading.

"Please, don't... don't leave me," I manage to gasp out, thinking of the tornado and the unbearable quiet when he blinked from existence for a time. I don't want to be alone.

Resolution sparks a fire behind his eyes. His form flickers once more and then, like a flame finding its wick, he stays insistently here.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises, taking my hand in his own and giving a gentle squeeze.

I can't quite feel it.

Panic floats just out of reach. Or maybe I'm the one floating; caught on a fraying thread.

I think I'm dying.

Time slides away.

My head lolls to the side and I see the floor around me stained with a puddle of blood that seeps stubbornly further and further. Crawling out of me. Whatever my dad hit, I think it was vital. It feels vital, with the way agony pulses in time with my racing heartbeat.

I watch, through a darkening, vague vision, as Sam dips his smudgy finger into the pool of blood and scrawls one word onto the floor.

dad

He brushes the hair from my eyes and whispers soothingly, "Shh, you're not alone. Don't be afraid."

And in everything he doesn't say, in every emotion he locks away behind his eyes, he's screaming, 'you're dying'.

"I'm right here, Theo. Please, please stay awake. You just have to wait a— a little longer, and someone's going to help you. You're going to be okay." Sam's ramblings don't quite register. I hear his voice, shuddering beneath the weight of tears, but I can't make sense of them.

It doesn't hurt anymore.

Before and After blur until I can't distinguish between them. Until I am both and neither; until I am everything and nothing.