Imperfect | est. 2015

By kendallxgray

6.1K 159 13

"but that's the fun part," she says, "you can't tell a soul." More

Prologue
1 . Skylar Faith
2. Connor Anthony
3. Diversities
4. Dysfunctional
5. Trapped in a Memory
6. Nightmares
7. The Accidental Triangle
8. What's New
9. Addison
10. Fear
11. Different Levels
12. Simplicities
14. Three Ways to Die
15. Anthony
16. The Lucky Ones
17. Comfort
18. Flashbacks
19. What a Real Friend Would Do
20. Realize
21. Deteriorating
22. The Little Dinosaur
23. It's Different
24. Misconception
25. Enhancement
26. Forgotten
27. Distance
28. Things Change
29. Be Okay
30. The Weight
31. Alone
32. July
33. For Once
34. The Wooden Chair
35. Surprises
36. Patience
37. Misunderstood
38. Forgotten
39. Fireworks
40. Leftover
41. Yet To Come
42. Who Knew
43. Acceptance
44. A New Start
45. Lost
46. Empty Space
47. Another Apology
48. Afterwards
49. Uniquely Beautiful
50. School
51. Thanks To Nobody
52. Insufficiently
53. Blink Twice
54. The Dance
55. Completely
56. Replay
57. Star

13. What's Left

143 5 1
By kendallxgray

* Play clip in the background while reading...
*Fully Recommended

***
"Skylar," Connor's hand was cold in my arm while he tried to shake me awake.
He was up from his sleeping bag on the floor and Addison was no longer on the other side of me.
His voice shaky, as if something happened, "Please, wake up. It's important."

I rubbed my eyes and clearly saw his figure arched over me. His face was pale and I could see all the worry in his eyes.

"Get up, now," he starts trying to help me out of bed with one hand on my arm again, "we need to hurry."

I was only half awake, "Connor, what's going on?"

He dragged me out of my room and down the hall where Addison followed. All I could see was the hazy image of blue and red flashing out a window.

And my stomach nearly dropped.

"What's that? What's going on?" I asked more questions than I could process.

There was no fire. There was no man with a gun. Addison and Connor were both fine.

I had no idea what was happening.

Then they opened the front door for me.
The cold cement came as a shock to my bare feet, and I had to adjust to how intense the lights were.

They both stopped, standing beside me. Addison wrapped her arm around mine, in order to make sure I didn't get overwhelmed by what I was about to see.

It was my grandma. They were lifting her stiff body into an ambulance, and before I had time to even process, they shut the doors.

I heard myself gasp. My pulse was already racing uncontrollably and my head was spinning, "What happened." I said, sternly, trying to tear my arm away from Addison's grip.

I spoke again, only twice as intensely, "What's wrong with her? Why are they taking her?"

Connor tries to stand closer to me, quickly compromising a way to calm me down before I exploded.

If they would've just given me an answer, my worries would be divided-- but they just stood there and tried to quiet me down.

Then I saw my grandpa. His shoulders low and his eyes latched on the flickering lights on the ambulance. He watched as it began to drive off, along with the other vehicles around it.

"No," I had tears burning around the lining of my eyes, "she's going to be okay, right?"

That's when my grandpa sees me.

He turned to see me with my arms forcibly locked between Addison and Connor. And how firmly they swore to themselves not to let me chase after the ambulance.

"Skylar," I heard his frail voice from across the yard. He was trying to get my attention as he made his way toward me, "it's okay, you don't have to panic."

But my volume was still raised to it's highest, "She can't die, Grandpa. I'm not ready," He decided to take over, gesturing for the two of them to let go of me... then he wrapped his arms around me, so my head was on his shoulder. My tears were noticeably falling through the fabric of his shirt.
I was still mumbling quietly as he had his hand on the back of my head, "i'm not ready for her to go, grandpa." I could hardly understand myself. My cries were forcing out any breath I had left in my lungs.

He shushed me, "She's not going to die," he had his voice trapped in a tired swelling of his throat, "she just had a stroke... they can save her."

I felt how deep and painful my breathing suddenly was. I couldn't calm myself down. It was as if I had never experienced something like that in my life. But what he said was familiar. That one thing he just said.. that was supposed to make it easier for me to handle... but really, it just tossed me into another terrible memory.

"Where is he?" My hands were shaking so intensely, it was as if I was seizing.

"You can't go back there." The doctor says. She had more to say. More rules to list for me so I would have something to tell myself in order to maintain my worries.

But my little brother was back there.
I wasn't going to listen to anything she had to say.

"Chris." I said, under my breath and took off past her. I didn't care if she yelled. I didn't care if she was chasing me. I would find my little brother.

Every worry and scar I had building in my gut and chest from what I saw and experienced earlier, it was collapsing inside of me. And if was pretty damn excruciating.

I was in a hospital gown. They had me lied down in a bed with an IV in my arm and a pulse taking device on my finger.

But when they mentioned what happened to my parents and my brother, I took everything apart and stormed out of the room.

What surprised me... was nobody tried to stop me. As if they knew what I was about to see. And they were going to let me see it.

I saw the window with the thin metal pattern inside of it. The classic windows in a hospital that gave you the uncomfortable vibes when you stepped near them.

There was the door. The grey/green door with a window on it. The words printed among it nearly blocked my view but I could see.

There was Chris, attached to several machines and surrounded by doctors who all scattered around him like panicked animals.

One was constantly pushing on his chest, while another, had a device strapped to his head to help his breathing.

It was absolutely horrifying.

The only thing I could think about... was if he was going to die. But what hurt the most, at the time, was having hope that he'd stay alive... just to know that there was a chance he wouldn't be.

I cried. I was most certainly crying. Loud enough to be heard in any room on that hallway and powerful enough for it to pound in my head and burn my skin every time a tear fell onto my t-shirt.

I pressed my hands against the thick glass of that door. And watched. The glass was cold and unwelcoming, but it was all I had in between him and me.

I started counting the compressions... and just as I got to 10, they had quickly moved to another option.

They grabbed the AED paddles from near by and powered it up.

And the treacherous image of seeing the paddles be electrically slammed to my little brother's chest, made me stop breathing for the longest time.

My mouth was open in fear. Dreadful shakiness was beginning to make it harder and harder to breathe. I was almost suffocating.

But I didn't care.

My baby brother. Pale and innocent, lying somewhere half alive where I had to watch.

They hit him with the shocks once more. Then again after that.

I was surprised I could even hold my eyes on for as long as I did.

"Christopher!" I shouted, feeling every piece of the things I was afraid of crawl over my skin.

At that point, I already knew my parents were gone.
I already knew we would be alone.
And I would be there to protect him.

But the guilt would eat me alive if I had to watch him die.

"Please, don't die. They can save you."

And then that familiar quote was repeated in my mind...

'They can save you...'

Every little memory I had of my baby brother. From the moment he was born up until then.

When he would be in front of me, jumping on the trampoline, when he would spill his cereal all over the dog, when I would give him piggyback rides and do his makeup for fun. When he would wear my socks and slide across the wooden floor with that adorable and childish laugh he would never grow out of.
Hundreds of memories.
The dimples he had when he'd smile as wide as I told him to.
When he loved taking pictures and showing off his perfectly pale eyes. When he would be shy everyone someone at a restaurant asked him for what he wanted.

And there was his laugh.

His childish little laugh, echoing in my brain as all the memories replayed.
Over.
And over.

Until they faded.

And the little line on the screen beside him had been flat for longer than they could hold it.

Time of death... 21:14

"NO!" I screamed as loud as I could. I slammed my fist against the strong glass window over and over, "CHRISTOPHER!" I felt my voice shattering from all the crying.

The door opens, and a doctor comes out to lead me away, "YOU KILLED HIM! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAVE HIM AND YOU LET HIM DIE!"

I slammed my hand on the doctor's arms to push him away. And I wouldn't stop fighting him. I shoved him from me and paced in a circle... until I no longer had the strength... "You didn't save him...," I whispered, falling to my knees and curling my arms around myself. I let my head fall in front of me, "he's gone." My voice trembles again then trails off completely.

And that was the last I knew of Christopher Faith... my little brother.

****

I felt like I was drowning in an old nightmare, "She won't leave you, Skylar," he ran his hand through my hair in order for me to breathe, "she wouldn't do that to you."

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