delirium (sequel to apathy)

27

     27

I woke up in a shock.

I felt like I couldn't breathe, my heart was racing, my whole body felt chills. The machines next to me began to beep faster and faster, and soon there was a ringing alarm going off in my room. I opened my eyes to several people surrounding my bed, and blinding florescent lights. They were speaking so quickly I didn't know what was going on, and I simply laid there limp as they worked around and on me. 

The outrageously loud ringing from the alarm subsided, and just as soon as they were all here, all the people were gone. 

I laid there in silence for a while, trying to gather all the rushing thoughts and voices through my brain, everything seeming to run and talk over each other. I had no clue where I was, no clue what had happened to me. Anytime I tried to piece something together, my head would hurt. 

"I'm glad to see you're okay, little brother."

I recognized that voice. 

Turning my head slowly to where the voice came from, I couldn't believe my own eyes. He sat there, staring me down. From the tattoos on his face and neck to his hazel green eyes, I recognized every single last thing. 

"You've been out of it for a long time, Cael."

I started to sit up, realizing my surroundings. 

I was in the hospital.

He watched me struggle to sit up, at some point reaching over to help me adjust. My whole body was sore, and any type of movement sent shooting pain up and down my spine, and throughout my body. Nevertheless I reluctantly accepted his help, still wondering how in the world did I land myself in the hospital, and just in general what the hell was going on. 

"Don't call me that," I mumbled, my voice hoarse and throat dry.

"You're pretty defiant for someone who's just woken up from a coma."

Coma?

"Yeah nigga, you heard me right. You've been in a coma for at least five and a half months."

I shook my head, "I ain't been in no coma."

"How else would you end up in the hospital? Somebody shot you in your chest."

"Where's-"

"We've been worried sick about you Cael. Amir, Monae, Romelo, Ramiro, all of them," he sighed, slouching back in the chair. He lifted a black duffle bag onto my bedside table, checking over it. 

I had been in a coma? Who the hell shot me? Why the hell would anybody shoot me? I needed to talk to Monae, her father, brother, somebody who could really give me answers as to what happened to me. I needed to know if my wife and son were okay. 

"I need to see them," I stated, looking directly in his eyes. He started to smile, and then started to chuckle, shaking his head. "First," he told me, "we gotta talk."

"Talk about what, there is nothing for us to talk about. I need to see my wife-"

"Cael, whoever-"

"Nigga stop calling me that! That's not my fucking name!"

I tried to get up but sat right back down from the immense pain I was in. He knew I couldn't go anywhere.  I knew what he wanted to talk about. But why here? Why right now? I had just woken up from a so called coma and now I have to the demons of my past? No, I didn't want to talk about it. Especially with him.

"I'm not talking about this-"

"Yes the hell you are!" He raised his voice at me, standing up. I could tell he was impatient with me. He started to pace back and forth across the room, "We're talking about this because our shit contributed to this shit! You think you just got shot in the chest because some idiot wanted to rob you? No! This shit is bigger than us now! You got more shit to worry about then just you now."

"Don't you think I know that, Martin! But I'm not about to sit here and take this shit from you! Especially not after you try to come back to me on that brotherly love bullshit! I never asked for any of the shit you, or Marten made me do! Y'all the reason I have to look over my back half the time anyway!"

Martin stood at the foot of my bed, staring at me. I couldn't pinpoint the look in his eyes. Hurt? Pity? Either way, all the shit I had said was true. I never asked to do anything Martin and Marten forced me to do. I never wanted to sell drugs, steal, or do any of the outlandish shit they made me do. I never wanted to be apart of it. Santiago was the only one out of us who gave me a second chance when I thought I never had one. He was the only one who never used me as a pawn, who never took advantage of me.

As far as I considered, Santiago was the only real family member I had, and he died because of me. 

Blood wasn't shit to Martin or Marten. Blood wouldn't force you to kill and steal. Blood wouldn't kidnap you wife and son and try to pimp her out. Blood wouldn't turn on each other for their own benefit. Neither one of them niggas were any kin to me. 

"You're right, Cael, you're right."

"Dante. My name is Dante. I abandoned that name because of you and Marten."

Martin sighed, and rubbed his hand over his face. He turned away from me, instead looking out of the window at the sunset. The shades of orange, red, purple and blue beamed in my room through the window, shining dimly on the ceiling above. Neither one of us said a word, and simply sat here in complete silence. Tension replaced the noise of our argument. 

"I know what I did was fucked up. But I've changed."

I rolled my eyes at his words. Was I supposed to suddenly accept his apology after all these years? I had asked him for help, and he betrayed me. He raped the woman I was in love with, and even tried to kill me over her. I could care less about how much he's changed. He still fucked me over, regardless. 

Martin turned to me, locking eyes with me. "I've changed. I know what I've did was fucked up. I was a fucked up individual. I don't have reasons for doing what I've did and part of me can't forgive myself because of it. But I'm not that person anymore. I got a kid now. I don't want of this shit to ever fall back on him like it has on Monae and Amir."

I didn't say anything. 

"Look, I need you to trust me. I won't ever betray you like that ever again. If I wasn't remorseful, I wouldn't be here begging for your forgiveness. But I really need you to trust me, Dante. This shit has caught back up to us and without your trust this shit is just gonna blow back up in our faces."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I know who got you shot."

"How the fuck would you-"

"Because...Marten arranged it."

an: sorry for unplublishing and taking so long to update guys. i haven't written in a while because I was strapped for ideas on this story, but Delirium is back!  I'm going to try to finish this saga during my winter break, and then I'll try updating and finishing my other stories.