Voices

It's a chilly afternoon in my hometown of San Diego, California. Myself and my older brother and band mate, Victor, haven't seen our parents in 7 months. The touring took longer than we had expected. But we enjoyed the time away from home and the extraordinary privilege to tour America and meet our crazed fans. My stomach is doing back flips, my head is throbbing with pain, I'm nervous to see my parents again. "What will my father say?" I thinks to myself. Will he think poorly of my appearance? Since I've been away, I have gotten 3 new tattoos and pierced my lip. At this moment I'm wearing dark pre-ripped jeans and a black shirt with "Blink 182" written on it. Vic is in the drivers seat with his hands gripping the steering wheel firmly. We've stopped suddenly. My brother slamming on the brakes as hard as he can. My head jerks around and I feel my skinny body start to slip from the seat belt. I grip the seat belt with my slippery hands, trying to secure myself. We're both looking forward, stunned by what just happened. I turn to look at Vic, he's looking ahead, eyes wide open. "What the hell was that?" I scream at him. After a moment of silence he speaks quietly, 'Sh-she... Came out of nowhere. I... hit her.' He looks at me with tearing up eyes. I stare back. What are you talking about? I finally blurt out. He doesn't answer me. Well get out and see if she's okay then! Vic jumps out of his silver Honda and sprints around to the front of the car. He covers his mouth with his shaking hand and starts to cry. "Call the ambulance!"

Two long, painful hours later I'm sitting in the waiting room with Vic. Vic is holding his face in his hands. He looks like a total wreck. I wish I knew what to say to him. While I'm staring off into space, I notice that Vic's head is bleeding. I poke Vic and whisper, Psst, Vic.. You're bleeding. Your head is bleeding. Want me to go get a doctor? He looks at me and says, "It wouldn't even matter if I bled out right now because that innocent woman could loose her life." I sigh and rise from my seat. It's going to be alright, I say as I place my hand on his bare shoulder. I'm going to go get a doctor and some water, okay? He just puts his head back into his hands and I walk away. I can't even imagine how Vic is feeling. If I could take his place, I would. I hate seeing my brother in pain. I continue walking along this narrow hallway, past rooms with grieving patients and families. Oh, how I wish I could be their superhero and make them all better. As I'm walking down the hallway, I see a patient that looks like the woman we hit. As I enter her room she jumps and stares at me, looking me over. Hello, did you happen to get hit by a silver Honda today? I ask shyly. She just keeps staring. Her hair is long and brown, curls everywhere. It reminds me of an old doll that hasn't been brushed. Because her hair isn't brushed. She has big bright green eyes and perfectly clear, pale white skin. As I'm looking her over, I couldn't help but notice how incredibly beautiful she is. She looks like she's in pain. I want to help her. 'What are you looking at?' She finally says. N- nothing, I respond. I just couldn't help but notice that you are very beautiful. I start to blush and hide my face. I glance up at her and she's smiling. Which is a good sign. Do you mind if I ask what happened to you? I ask nervously. She sighs and says back, No, it's okay. I got hit by a car earlier today. It was an accident. Why do you ask? Oh, because you look like the girl that, uhmm, my brother hit today.. I say. She just stares again. Looking me over. She keeps looking me over, it makes me feel vulnerable. I haven't felt that before. But for some odd reason she makes me feel that way. "It's okay, you know. It was an accident. My fault; I should've been paying attention." she says, noticing that I feel like a pathetic ant compared to her. I really am sorry, what's your name? 'Oh! I'm Aubree Cruz.' She hops out of her hospital bed and runs up to me and shakes my hand rapidly. I smile, I'm Mike, Mike Fuentes. I'll go get my brother.

When I return with my brother he's holding an ice pack to his sore and bleeding head. We both walk quietly into the room. Aubree, are you in here? I ask, almost in a whisper. Oh yes! Come on in, she responds cheerfully. This is Vic Fuentes, I tell her. "Hello, I'm Aubree Cruz. Please don't feel bad. I'm perfectly okay. I just have a small concussion and some bruises and a broken wrist. I'll be okay though!" She speaks to Vic. Vic looks at her, obviously noticing her outstanding features. I nudge him. He replies to Aubree, I apologize deeply. I don't know what happened. I don't know how I can pay my respects to you. Are you sure you are okay? How long are you staying in here? I'm so glad you're alive! 'I'm gonna step out and call mom and dad while you two talk, okay?' I whisper to Vic and nod at Aubree.

What happened again? My father asks in a hushed tone. I already told you dad, we were driving home and out of nowhere out pops a woman. It happened so sudden; we couldn't have stopped in time. She's okay though. Her wrist is broken and she has a few bruises and had a concussion. My mother chimes in, "you boys are very lucky that poor woman is okay. You ought to pray for thanks. I wish her the best. When will you be home?" Well, we're actually not that far. So, tonight, but I'm coming back tomorrow. Vic doesn't have to. See you tonight son, my father says and hangs up. My mother still on the phone says, alright Michael, I love you, bye-bye. I hang up the phone and start walking towards the room. I hate the smell of hospitals. They smell so, odd, I suppose the word could be. I've been in here to many times, doing stupid things as a child. The doctors know me to well, it's kind of funny, actually. Back in the room Vic and I give our sincere apologies once again and head out. We're walking in the hallways and it smells and sounds of sadness and despair.

Once we've arrived to our forever home, I look to Vic and he's smiling at me. God has blessed us Mike, he says. I grin back then hop out of the car. Indeed he has, I reply. I open the orange door leading into the house I grew up in. I can tell mom and dad have changed the looks. There's a big gray rug with an odd design placed on the white tile. To my right there's a table with pretty swirls and silver nobs. To my left the living room is newly furnished, with soft tan couches and brown throw pillows. There's a glass coffee table and vases of every shape. Looking around the house I notice that they put old pictures up as well. I turn to Vic, 'Haha! Look at your face in that picture! Oh, and your hair! Oh my', I yell playfully. Vic just looks at me and shakes his head. Down the hall I hear my mom yelling, "Is that my baby boys I hear?" Yes mom, Vic says. It's us! She comes running out. She looks different. Her hair got shorter. It's blonde and up to her chin, her blue eyes sparkle when she sees us. Where's dad? I ask. 'Oh, he went to sleep. He's getting old, you know?' I give my mom a big hug and say, I'm gonna go catch some eye. Night mom, love you. My room is just as I left it when I was 18. Blue walls, perfectly made, wrinkle free bed spread, trophies on the walls from skateboarding and in the corner, the drums I got when I was 6. I jump into bed and cover myself up. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, not with Aubree on my mind. Not with everything on my mind. I stare at the celling, tomorrow is going to be interesting.

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