Author's note:
Here comes a romance of roughly 19k words. As is often the case with my stories, and typical romances even more so, there's not much sex in it and only towards the end.
My thanks go to my editors. Stattion for his help to make the storyline consistent and fluent and Joffa for his spelling, grammar and punctuation expertise.
I hope you enjoy it and please remember to leave a vote or even a comment.
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'Fucking hell', I swore to myself as I walked back to my studio from the meeting with my professor for analytical chemistry. He had summoned me to his office for an early morning meeting to discuss various options for my term paper. He was exceptionally meticulous as this was the last paper before I would start on the thesis for my Masters. He had already told me that anything but a perfect score would be unacceptable.
Fighting against the wind which beat freezing rain into my face, I kept a close eye on the street. Cars were running at a crawling speed as the road was covered with a thin layer of ice which had been smoothed by the strong wind. I saw more than one car slither or fail to stop at a red light and was wary of a driver losing control of his vehicle and sliding right into me.
Fifteen minutes after I had left the professor's office, I arrived at my studio flat, just in time to prepare myself a late breakfast or an early lunch. Quickly checking the contents of my fridge, I heated some left-over mushroom risotto from the evening before. I was halfway through my lunch when the doorbell rang.
Curiously, I went to open the door. My best bet was that it was one of my friends, looking for a study partner. I looked through the peephole and stopped short when I saw two police officers in full uniform standing outside the door.
This was not good. I wasn't a Saint but to the best of my knowledge, I hadn't done anything that would warrant a visit from the police. Nervously, I pressed the handle and pulled the door open.
"Good afternoon, Officers."
"Good afternoon, Sir. Are you William Hazelwood?"
I squinted a little, suspicious of what they wanted but as I still didn't know of any misbehaviour, I had no reason to lie.
"Yes, that's me."
I tried to read their body language and countenance and what I saw wasn't very encouraging. They weren't looking for me in connection with a crime or an offence. But what other reasons could they possibly have to come here?
Mom! Dad! Carla! No! Not Carla! Not my sister!
"Could we please come in?"
"Carla. Please tell me that Carla is alright."
It was barely a whisper that made it out of my mouth.
"We think it would be best if you sat down, Mr Hazelwood."
I swayed. My bloodstream was being flooded with adrenaline and my sense of balance was rendered dysfunctional as my pulse rate increased and pumped the adrenaline though my body. My eyesight deserted me and I saw nothing but the faces of the two officers, the edges of my vision black and fuzzy.
A strong hand grabbed me by my shoulder and I was led into the studio and carefully sat down on my couch. There weren't many options as my studio consisted of a saggy single bed, a shabby desk with a rickety chair, a wormy wardrobe, and a worn-out sofa in front. A tiny bathroom and the even tinier kitchenette completed my realm.
'They entered my apartment without permission,' shot through my head before I remembered that they most likely weren't trying to search the place. My circulation normalised a bit or at least stabilised and I was able to form coherent thoughts again.
"Thank you for catching me. What's wrong with Carla?"
"We are sorry to inform you that your parents were involved in a car accident this morning. They were both taken to the hospital within minutes. Unfortunately, the injuries your father sustained were too severe and the medical staff were unable to help him. Your mother is alive but in critical condition. We have been instructed to take you to the hospital."
It took me a minute to understand what they just told me. Dad was dead and Mom was severely injured. In critical condition. That sounded ok. In the TV-series, patients in critical condition usually survived.
"What about Carla?"
"Sorry, we don't know who that is?"
"My sister. Was she in the car?"
"We don't have any information about anybody else being in the car. I think it's safe to assume that she was not present."
Frantically, I tried to come up with a plan on how to proceed. My sister was eleven years younger than I was. I had been an early surprise for my parents when they were barely twenty years old. They put in a lot of effort in raising and providing for me. A few weeks ago, during my last visit at home, they had told me that their marriage had been on the brink more than once in those early years due to the pressure it had put on them. After everything had stabilised and they had found more things they had in common than just me, they had decided to try for another child.
When Carla arrived, I was already eleven years old. During the pregnancy, I hated her. Or maybe disliked her. But once she had come home from the hospital, l soon fell in love with her and became a protective and doting big brother. When she had grown up a little and our parents wanted to have a calm evening to themselves, I always volunteered to babysit her.
What should I do now? Carla was eleven. If our parents weren't there to take care of her, nobody would. What would happen then? Most likely, she would either be given to foster care or a children's home. That wouldn't do.
"I need to go home. Immediately."
Home was fortunately only a two hours' drive by car or train away. I had missed when the officer told me that they were supposed to take me to the hospital so I thought that taking the train was my only option as I didn't own a car.
"Can you take me to the train station? I'll just need a few minutes to pack some necessities."
"We have been tasked to take you to the hospital where your parents were brought," the officer who had done all the speaking so far patiently reminded me.
I hastily threw some clothes into a suitcase and a handful of my books into my backpack and was ready to go. While the officers drove me to my hometown, I reflected on our future but I didn't know enough about our parents' financial situation. I knew that the house was mostly paid for but it still had a small mortgage remaining. They had also kept it in rather good shape but if our mother didn't survive it would be difficult to keep it. I might be a good chemistry student destined to finish top of the class but that didn't bring food to the table or dress my sister. I would need a job, a job which was flexible enough to be at home in the mornings to help my sister get ready and back in the evening to help with homework and prepare dinner.
Maybe I could turn my computer knowledge into money by finding a job as an IT supporter. Or maybe telemarketing. Or I could always take up waiting again as I had during the year I had taken off between High School and university. Why the fuck had I done that? If I'd manned up earlier I would most likely have finished my studies already and everything would look better.
The officers tried to engage in some polite conversation to keep my mind from turning uselessly but I wasn't receptive to their well-meant attempts. After a while, they resigned and kept to themselves. I was so lost in thought that I barely registered when they received a radio message. I was startled when the co-driver spoke loud enough for me to react to his words.
"Your sister has just been brought to the hospital. She is waiting for you there."
I looked up and registered my surroundings for the first time in over an hour. We'd be there in a few minutes. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I needed to focus. My sister would be in an even worse state than me. She needed me. My strength. My confidence.
"How is she?"
"I'm sorry, I don't have that information."
We arrived at the main entrance and I exited the car before it had come to a full stop. I rushed towards the reception.
"My name is William Hazelwood. My mother was brought here as a patient and my sister is supposed to be around."
The officers had caught up with me while the nurse checked her computer, muttering, "Hazelwood. Hazelwood. Ah, here."
Her eyes went wide as she checked her screen and I decidedly didn't like the look of that.
"Please, Mr Hazelwood. Follow me," she said as she came out from behind the reception desk and moved towards a door.
I had a bad feeling as she led me through various corridors. Distraught, I checked the signs on the walls. She took me to the mortuary. A deep black void opened inside of me.
No. Please. No. Not both. Please. No.
