If Only

Trigger warning: suicide

All he could do was wait.

There was nothing beautiful or calming about the art of being still, not like he had expected. The world was spinning uncontrollably, while life suddenly seemed to be seeping through the cracks of his broken visage. How could he be still?

The room he had been instructed to wait in, was filled with a disturbing silence. An elderly couple were seated in a corner to his left, neither of them acknowledging each other or anyone else for that matter. A few seats down, a middle-aged woman sat with a baby wrapped in a lilac shawl, the baby’s head rested against her breast. On the seats directly in front of him were a teenage boy and his father, both consumed by the blue lights that flashed from their phones. Cole wondered why an absence of fear loomed in the air. Surely these people weren’t just here for decoration - they don’t call it Accident and Emergency for nothing.

         The situation he was in was enough to twist his stomach and force his breakfast onto the floor. He shifted anxiously in his seat for what seemed like aeons, itching his head, and huffing frantically, as an attempt to distract himself from the events that led him here.

How long was he supposed to sit there for?

What use is it to have sight if you’re unable to see?

One cry to Heaven, was that enough to say that he believed?

A nurse appeared from one of the operating rooms causing his heart to hammer against his chest. Are you about to call me? He thought as she tucked a strand of her locks behind her ear.

         “Mr Hemmings? A word please.” She called out, smiling at the man glued to his phone. His heart sank as the man got up and followed her into another room. His mind began racing again. He wasn’t allowed to see what was happening because of how hysterically he had behaved. His thunderous shouts shook through the hospital walls, upsetting the inpatients and angering the staff, but that was the least of his worries. Rules and code of conduct meant nothing to a man who felt that he would lose everything.

         The father returned and ushered his son out of the hospital - no exchanged embraces, few words. Almost like they already knew what to expect - it struck Cole here that the people he was surrounded by weren’t responsible for the hospitalisation of their loved ones. Not like he was.

Moments evaded him, but his restlessness remained, his mind was replaying the nightmarish scene. His hands began trembling as he relived it. A couple suddenly sat down beside him, one that he recognised. Naomi and Brian. Their facial expressions were identical – a mixture of confusion, dread, and resentment. At first, neither of them spoke, unintentionally adding to his anxiety. Brian repeatedly ran his hands against his stubble, slowly, while lost in thought. Naomi scowled at the ground, barely blinking. Cole opened his mouth but quickly thought against it and pressed his lips firmly shut. The aggravation that could stem from the wrong words would be detrimental – it was best to keep whatever fragment of peace that was left.

         Naomi brought her head up and faced Cole. Her eyes had glazed over.

         “What happened?” She uttered, swallowing large gulps between each word. Cole sat back and brought a hand to his temple. The accident was eating him up alive, worse than the other menacing thoughts that troubled him at night. He wished he could turn back the clock and start again. All it would take was a split second to fix his wrong…

Cole, Naomi, and Brian were all colleagues at the office. Nine to five shifts, jokes of ending it all, carefree karaoke nights at the bar in the city. It’s how they became so acquainted with one another when they were in their early twenties - straight out of university and hoping to make their mark in the world. At that time, everything was simple. Cole was mildly infatuated with Naomi, and a glimmer of that passion was still present. He admired everything about her, from her fearlessness to the smoothness of her skin. But she broke his heart by falling in love with Brian. While he could have become hostile in a situation like this, he knew his purpose lied in being involved in their lives. He gained the title of godfather and uncle, in addition to best friend, and found gratitude in just knowing their six-year-old son Troy. That was the way it had always been.

         It became a common curtesy amongst them to help each other in any way they could. Cole became a babysitter regularly, while Naomi and Brian would provide their support through the charity events Cole organised for the community. Their relationship with Cole meant more to him than all the riches of the world.

And that was his flaw.

He loved them too much.

On this day, Cole had been tasked to look after Troy while Naomi and Brian visited some relatives. Nothing too challenging, it became second nature to watch him.

But when one becomes too comfortable, vigilance eludes them.

Cole tended to be reckless, it was something that he would blame on not having a wife. Perhaps he secretly wished for Naomi to keep him in line. He had mapped out the entire afternoon for Troy – a quick lunch followed by a trip to the aquarium. Cole seemed to be more excited than Troy was. That was until the day’s events were dissolved in the water boiling on the stove. As soon as Cole left the kitchen, his ears were met with a gut-wrenching scream that shattered his insides.

         His body moved, but his spirit had been seized by guilt. He found Troy on the floor beside the pot, a mass of red blisters revealing themselves through the slits of his sleeve. A cluster of pulsating blemishes that had wedged their way into his life.

“Don’t remove the clothing from his arm,” they said. “Help is on its way.”

But nothing they could say would eliminate the sorrow and shame that was tattooed to Cole’s chest. It wouldn’t stop his heart from sinking along with every wince and tear that Troy shed. The cacophony of misery that played in his mind was crippling. One second was enough to destroy.

If only he hadn’t left the handle sticking out.

When he explained this all to Naomi and Brian, Naomi began to weep. She looked just like her son when she cried, a burst of masked chaos. It was a searing reminder of the look of anguish on Troy’s face.

         “How could you be so irresponsible? I’ve never had a reason not to trust you.”

And she was right. The three of them trusted each other with their lives. This was the ultimate act of betrayal, accidental or not. He couldn’t even speak to her. No words in this universe or the next could come close to explaining how sorry he was.

The doctor came out of the room they kept Troy in. He looked hopeful, which was a good sign at least. But no good headed Cole’s way. Not when he was cast out of the hospital by the words that poured from Brian’s lips.

         “I don’t want you anywhere near us. Not near my son, nowhere near our life.”.

He could have fought, but his efforts would have been futile. He knew he had to pay the price for potentially scarring their child for life.

Over the months that followed, he tried his best to comply. Compliance was merely an act of respect. But compliance drove him to the brink of insanity and weeks of monotony that continued to smother him.

Wake up.

Brush teeth.

Hardly eat.

Repeat.

Until he decided he couldn’t anymore.

In his black Mercedes, he would go to their home and see Troy running around in their garden. A comforting warmth would envelop him when he saw the life in his eyes.

          “I’m here to beg you for another chance. I’ll do anything, I’ll be anything! Just… please.”

          “Don’t come back here!” Brian huffed, before grabbing his son and slamming the door.

         “I’m sorry, please, I don’t have to babysit! Just let me in, we can start over. I miss you.”

         “My son can’t even bear to look at the kitchen because of you. Don’t come back here.” Naomi hissed before slamming the door.

This went on for weeks - until he had been deemed a stalker and they threatened to call the police.

Cole couldn’t let them go, the loneliness was too overbearing. They were his family, his home. But in the blink of an eye, they were no more.

He laughed as he reflected their early workdays when they joked about ending it all. Ending it seemed like the only plausible thing, as he sat there staring up at the ceiling with whiskey in his glass. When his phone rang, he had no will to answer. When his colleagues called, he gave half-hearted responses and hung up. The ones that seemed to care weren’t the ones he wanted to talk to.

At the peak of dusk a few weeks later, he turned the corner onto the bridge, lightheaded, and looked out against the road. Cars sped past and oblivious citizens made their way. A gentle breeze whistled around him, louder than the noise below. His breath caught in his throat, his mind galaxies away. The one thing that could bring it back was the incessant ringing in his pocket, eager to steal his attention. I’ll humour it, he thought, as his hope faded away.

         “Hello,” He muttered.

         “Uncle Cole, it’s me. I’m on my Dad’s phone. Can I see you tomorrow?”. His hand went straight to his chest, he needed to make sure his heart hadn’t stopped altogether.

         “Of course, Troy! Tomorrow is perfect!”

For once, the tears that gushed from his eyes were to show his content. The dissolution of grief relieved the weight on his soul. He beamed before taking a step back. After he ended the phone call, he turned on his heel and walked away from the bridge.

Never looking back.

He was lucky enough to be given that chance.