#therewillbemore

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Exhausted, Roman lay on the bathroom floor, eyes closed, possessing not the energy, nor the will to stand. How long he had been there, Roman could not recall. Only that he was in dire pain, and that every part of his body ached from the wretched heaving. It was then that Roman heard the car pull up out front. His stomach dropping in panic, Roman heaved himself to his feet with a scream. Looking out the window, he realized that his parents were home. They had picked his sister up from play practice too, he realized, as she joyfully hopped out of the back of the car.

He ran to his room, where he threw on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, doing his best to conceal the cuts along his arms and legs. Having no way to cover the cuts on his face, Roman quickly formulated a story. He had been skating down the hill. Wasn’t paying attention. A tree branch whipped him in the cheeks and scraped his face. He hoped that his parents would believe him; they didn’t need to know the real story. Likely, if they found out, they would overreact and he would have to spend the evening in the hospital, a couple of hours drive away.

When his parents walked into the house, they found Roman in the kitchen, searching through the fridge.

“Hey Rome,” his mother greeted him, plopping a kiss onto the back of his head. He winced internally, but managed to greet her with a nonchalant tone.

“Hey mum, how was your day?”

“Oh, you know. This and that. People are so hard to manage when they’re cranky. And mind you, they’re always cranky.” She laughed, dropping her keys on the counter and reaching into the pantry for some cheez-its. His father walked into the kitchen, his hair a mess from the wind outside, and slightly damp from the rain that was still falling lightly. His father was followed by Anna, his little sister. She wore a bright raincoat and a glorious smile, almost enough to light the entire room with joy.

“Hey Rome!” she cried, running over to hug him with a barrel hug. He grunted as her little body collided with his, but stayed on his feet and returned the hug. “What’s on your face?”

“Oh this?” He reached up to tough the scratch. “I was skating down the hill and wasn’t paying attention, ran into a tree branch, nasty damn trees. I don’t understand why they don’t trim the branches that hang over the road.”

“Did you clean it?” His mother asked, a look of concern cloudy her face.

“Of course, we’ll need some more hydrogen peroxide though, the bottle was almost empty and I finished it.” A lie; the bottle had been full.

“Damn, really?” His father asked. “I just picked some up at Costco the other day.”

Roman shrugged, continuing with the lie; “I don’t know what to tell you, there was barely anything left.”

“Okay,” his dad nodded. “I’ll pick some up at the store when I go next week. Roman, can you start making a list of things we need? I don’t want to drive all the way to the city and back only to discover we’ve forgotten something.” He chuckled to himself. Roman nodded, blinking through the pain as he crossed the kitchen to fetch the writing pad and pen. He scribbled down a few things onto the list:

Hydrogen peroxide

Advil

Jellybellies…

He put the pad down; they could add to it later. If they wanted. He blinked. He breathed. Tears sprung to his eyes. What was happening? He blinked. He breathed. Something was wrong. He blinked. But breath wouldn’t come. It was caught in the space between his lungs and his mouth. His legs turned to jelly as he sunk to the floor. He stared straight ahead. Something was wrong. Why couldn’t he breathe? Why would no words come even as his head screamed for help?

“Roman?” Thank God, it was his mother. She was looking at him in a curious manner, concern spread across her face like butter. “Roman what’s wrong?” he could hear her footsteps tapping against the tiles as she made her way around the counter towards him. “Roman.” She gasped and tried to catch him as his legs gave out. Why could he not stand? He was strong enough… wasn’t he? The scratches on his face, legs and arms stung, bringing wet tears to his eyes. As wet and large as the raindrops that fell from the sky outside.