Category Linkin Park
A Simple Wish
He woke up to feel lips on his cheek, followed by a finger running down the side of his face. He blinked carefully, trying to prevent as much sunlight as the open curtains were throwing at him from stinging his eyes. He looked to his side, seeing the friendly adoring face next to him, planting a tender kiss on his brow.
“Happy Birthday my darling little boy,” his mother said softly, leaning on her elbows with her chin resting in the palms of her hands, watching him with a loving stare, “Double digits now. You’ll be moving out into your own place before I can say ‘magic’ if I’m not careful.”
“I’m never leaving this house, so you don’t need to worry about that mom,” the boy said with a friendly smile, his voice cracking with sleep as he stretched his arms above his head.
The woman looked up at the large old wooden clock on the wall, “Almost two hours now. Come on young man, out of bed. You’ve got a big day ahead of you. You’re only ten years old once in a lifetime!”
With that, she stood up from her kneeling place beside the bed and left the room; her long wavy brunette locks and her pale green and white dress flowing lightly behind her like it didn’t weigh a thing.
The boy rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands before throwing his piles of blankets off him, slipping off the side of the tall bed carefully and walking to his chest of drawers, where he retrieved his clothes for the day and dressed in them.
Then, he walked across the dark oak floors of the large room to his bedroom door, where he pulled it open and proceeded downstairs.
Life was always pretty hectic in that house. With all the noise of my brothers coming and going back and forth between school, their friend’s houses and their girlfriend’s houses, it was rather hard. It was always very big, like a huge wooden castle. Two of my older brothers, Derek and Ethan, still lived with us while my oldest brother, Brian, who was twenty-three at the time, would come by every few days for a cup of coffee and talk to mom.
I never noticed at that age, but Brian was a lot like my Dad in a lot of ways.
He cared greatly for the family; always made an effort to spend time with us like he used to when he was living with us…and like my father, frowned upon the fact that my mother was very ‘spiritual’; even more so because I liked this about my mother and because of my growing interest in what she did.
My mother was a witch.
She wasn’t into the whole ‘devil worship’, ‘animal disembowelment’ or ‘ritual slaughter’ thing. It was more herb work and spells to do with good luck and peace. And because I had a great amount of interest in this aspect of her, and the fact that I participated in her magic whenever I could, I guess I had more of a bond with her. And it would probably explain my talent for magic also.
Unlike my brothers who all wanted to escape the house as soon as they turned eighteen, I wanted to live in that wooden castle forever; with my mom and her magic.
“Aaaah, the birthday man is awake,” The boy’s oldest brother said with a smile as the young boy entered the large white kitchen; the walls were laced with different herbs hanging in dry bouquets, the sunlight from outside streamed through the colourful hanging objects and talismans in the window and the room was outlined with pot plants, candles and potions in various shaped glass bottles.
The little boy grinned before running into his brother’s open arms, jumping into his embrace as he was enveloped in a loving hug.
“How’s my favourite little brother?” the man asked.
“Great. Did you get me a present?” the boy replied.
The man laughed and looked at his mother, who smiled back with raised eyebrows, “Trust you to get straight to the point huh little man?”
The boy held his small hand out in an unfazed manner, “Cut the talk and hand me the goods.”
The man gasped.
“Put him on a stool Brian,” his mother said, gesturing to the kitchen bench behind her. Brian did as he was told and placed the boy on a seat, taking one beside him.
“Morning lil’ bro! Happy Birthday!” a teenage boy exclaimed, ruffling up the youngest one’s brunette locks before sitting on a stool next to them. Another teenage boy entered the kitchen, slightly older than the other and repeated the same process.
“Ten years old…” the teenage boy said, “my littlest brother isn’t so little anymore…what has the world come to!”
Their mother, who was at the kitchen sink, turned around to face them with a large chocolate cake. She placed it before the youngest boy; ten unlit candles were slightly punched into the middle of the cake with ‘Happy Birthday’ in silver icing laced around the edges.
“Wow…” the little boy said, admiring the work on it.
“You did this all by yourself mom?” the youngest teen asked. She nodded, smiling as she did so.
“Blow on the candles sweetheart,” she said to the birthday boy.
“But they’re not lit,” the oldest teen retorted. The mother held up a hand and silenced him before looking at the youngest again.
“Remember what I told you…visualise the result. See it happen,” she said to him. The boy turned his brown eyes back to the unlit candles in the cake and sighed, concentrating on them. His brothers and his mother watched him as he briefly closed his eyes, then blew on the small candles. The wicks burst into flame successfully, causing him to come away wide eyed and grinning happily.
“It worked mom!” the boy squealed happily, shaking in his state of giddiness.
The oldest teenager dropped his head into his hands and groaned as the other boys watched, disbelief etched on their faces.
“Not another magically gifted family member…” the boy groaned into his palms.
The youngest teenager looked at his mother in alert, “Dad’s gonna go ape-shit mom.”
“Derek, what have I told you about using language like that?” his mother asked. The boy sunk back in his seat.
“Sorry,” Derek apologised quietly.
“How long has he been able to do that?” Brian asked cautiously, standing up from his seat to stand beside his mother.
“A week. Impressive isn’t it?” she replied proudly, winking at her gifted child.
“Dad is not going to be happy about this Mom,” he said in a low toned voice, “Not one bit.”
“I know, but I’ll sort that out, don’t worry about me,” she replied, patting him on the chest.
Brian frowned at her in disapproval.
“It’s not you I’m worried about…” he said firmly, looking at his youngest brother as he said it, before walking off through the living room to the front door, where he grabbed his jacket. He went to close the door behind him but saw the little boy standing in the hallway, looking at him with a small crease in his brow.
“Don’t look at me like that buddy,” Brian said to him, falling victim to the dark brown puppy-dog eyes before him.
“Did I do something wrong?” the boy asked with a light voice. Brian shook his head.
“No, it wasn’t you sweetheart,” he replied, titling his head to the side.
“Then why are you leaving?”
Brian sighed and walked out the door, off the large porch and down the steps to his car, “I have things to do little man.”
“What kinda things?” the boy asked, following him out.
Brian turned around and looked at him, breaking out into a small grin, “You remind me of myself when I was your age…minus the talent for magic of course.”
“Did you used to do spells with mom when you as small as me?” the boy asked.
Brian fixed his eyes on the dusty ground beneath his shoes, “No, I didn’t.”
He sighed and looked across the large yard at the neighbours house, which was hidden by a thick green bush along the fence line and a tall iron fence behind that.
“I wanted to be normal,” he said quietly. The boy frowned at him in confusion.
“But you are,” the boy said.
“Yes, I am and I had to work very hard to get that normal,” Brian said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He sighed and opened the back door of his car, pulling a large wrapped parcel out and handing it to the young boy.
“Happy Birthday dude,” he said before pushing the car door closed and opening the driver’s door.
The boy just looked blankly at the parcel in his grasp, then up at his big brother.
Brian got into his car and shut the door, pulling his seatbelt on and winding the window down.
“I’ll come over for dinner,” he said to the boy, who nodded numbly. He turned the key in the ignition and started the car up, saying goodbye to the boy and driving out of the long driveway.
* * *
“What did you get?” Derek asked as the little boy arrived back in the kitchen. He simply shot his older brother a look and planted the gift on the kitchen bench.
“I don’t know. I haven’t looked yet,” the boy said as pulled at the sticky tape that was holding the parcel shut.
“Is he having a party?” Ethan, the other teen, asked his mother. His mother shook her head in a way that asked him to change the subject. Derek looked at her and frowned.
“Why not? It’s his birthday,” he said. He turned to his brother, who was busy pulling the wrapping away from his present, “You should invite some friends over. We can have pizza and------”
“I don’t have any friends,” the little boy replied, looking at the Spider-Man comics in his hands. He would usually be happy at getting a gift that had anything to do with his favourite hero, but he felt nothing but a deep emptiness inside. Loneliness.
He gathered his new Spider-Man comics and walked up the long staircase to his bedroom.
“No friends…man, that’s harsh,” Derek said with a sigh. Ethan shot his mother a look of concern, who without a word, followed her youngest boy up the stairs.
She reached his bedroom door and opened it, seeing him lying on his bed, staring out of the window beside him, his comic books on the floor by his nightstand.
She sighed sadly and walked in, sitting next to him, “Oh my darling little boy…”
She saw what he was looking at outside.
A bunch of children playing baseball on the street, squealing, cheering, yelling. Having fun.
“Sweetheart, there’s no point in wishing for something when its not good enough,” she said, “Those children are no good for you. They’re horrible, call you names, and all because of what?”
“Because I’m different,” the little boy replied. His mother sighed.
“Yes…and being different isn’t a bad thing. It’s better being different than being the same as everyone else. The world would be boring that way,” she said, stroking his cheek with her warm fingers, “The way they treat you…it’s their problem, not yours…”
“But they still make me feel bad,” the little boy said quietly, letting out a small sigh.
His mother dropped her head, feeling her son’s pain tweak at her heart. The hurt in her son’s eyes brought her to tears.
“I want a friend mom…” he said softly.
* * *
So, I set out on my little journey to find myself the perfect best friend. I couldn’t do this the normal way, because all of the children at my school steered themselves clear of me whenever I was about, afraid that I’d hex them or cast a spell on them…So I did the only thing I knew best…
The little boy leaned his head on his hand tiredly while his other hand flipped through the beautifully aged pages of his mother’s spell book. There had to be a wish spell somewhere in the damn thing.
He sighed dejectedly and carried on, flicking through the pages that were written on with his mother’s beautiful handwriting. He stopped and looked closer at the page that caught his eye.
On the left page was a spell to summon a true love, while on the right, was a spell to summon a ‘soul-friend’. He read through the writing to get a more in-depth description of what a soul-friend was, finding it was the bond of two best friends whose souls were joined together through spirit, which in turn produced a deep connection of friendship.
He liked the idea, however, he was not sure.
Spells were known to backfire if done for reasons other than the hearts true desire or of good intent, but the little boy knew it was in his hearts longing.
Instead, he looked around the empty kitchen, the afternoon sun dimming, shining the last of its light through the window and onto the magical book sitting before him. He then pushed the book closed, keeping a finger on the page he wanted and hauled the heavy book against his chest as he descended the stairs to his bedroom.
Once up there, he opened the book up again on his bed and read through the instructions of the spell.
He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper before settling on his bed.
He read the first instruction over again.
Make a list of the qualities you want your soul friend to have.
He frowned for a while. He wanted his soul friend to be someone he liked. So what did he like?
“Spider-Man,” the little boy said to himself with a grin, “and chocolate.”
With his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in thought, he wrote down his first idea.
They’ll have chocolate coloured eyes.
He then added to the piece of paper.
They’ll have hair that is sometimes blue, sometimes red or both.
He read over his list and smiled, suddenly getting a bunch of ideas.
They’ll have a goofy smile.
They’ll make the best chocolate chip cookies.
Their favourite food will be ice-cream.
They’ll be funny.
They’ll be foreign, something interesting like Italian or Spanish.
He then crossed the last options out.
He stuck his pen in his mouth and thought hard for a while, trying to think of what he really wanted.
When he got more ideas, he put the pen to the paper and continued.
They’ll be friendly, caring, helpful and loving.
They won’t call me names.
They’ll defend me from people who want to hurt me.
They’ll make me laugh.
They’ll make me feel safe.
They’ll never make me feel bad.
He read through his list and fell into thought again, trying to find the last thing to put on it.
They will be okay with magic.
He placed the pen down and held the list up in front of him, satisfied with the end result.
“Baby?” his mother called from the doorway.
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking a few steps into the room.
But she already knew the page in her spell book that had intrigued her son.
“You’re summoning yourself a friend?” she asked. He sat still, like he’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Can I mom?” the boy asked with a hopeful raise of his eyebrows.
“Is it what you want?”
The boy looked at his piece of paper, and realised his need for a friend had strengthened in his heart.
He looked up at his mother and nodded, “Yes.”
She snapped her fingers and held her hand out for the list he had made. He reluctantly passed it over, and she read through it. A smile spread across her face.
“I can’t promise you this will work sweetheart…you’re wishing for someone with hair that’s sometimes red, sometimes blue,” she said, giving a half laugh, “Why red and blue hair?”
He shifted around uncomfortably.
“The colours of Spider-Man…” he answered shyly. His mother sighed in adoration.
“Oh my darling,” she said, briefly stroking his cheek, “I wish you could stay young forever.”
He smiled and moved closer to his mother, “So can I do it?”
She looked at the list, then at the little boy, before nodding.
“If you really want to,” she replied. He grinned and jumped into her arms, hugging her tightly as her arms closed around him.
The sun had set a few hours before hand, and all that was left was a dark sky, dotted with specks of white glittering light.
The boy and his mother stood outside, their faces lit with the brightness of the large fire that crackled outside. His mother looked up at the sky, which glowed faintly with the full moon, then fixed her gaze on her son as he held the piece of paper out towards the leaping flames.
She pulled her black woollen cardigan tighter around herself and crossed her arms over her chest.
The boy sighed and squinted as the heat got closer to stinging his eyes.
“By the power of earth, fire, wind and sea,
Grant my wish, of friends that be,
Bring them to me, bring them to me,
Grant my wish, so mote it be…” he said.
A small flame caught on the end of the piece of paper, enveloping it in orange heat. The boy let it go, and the curling paper fell to ash, which floated up towards the sky, and disappeared out of sight.
Brian stood on the porch, bathed in the light that came from inside the house, watching his youngest brother with a doubtful stare.
He didn’t want his brother involved in witchcraft.
We watched as his mother hugged his brother, picking him up and gesturing Brian to come over.
“It’s time for you to go to sleep,” she said to the youngest before turning to Brian, “Go and put him to bed sweetheart.”
“Sure,” Brian replied, taking his little brother from his mothers grasp, “come on buddy.”
His brother latched onto him and wrapped his arms around his neck, falling to sleep in his safe and warm embrace.
Brian looked sternly at his mother, “It’s wrong to get him involved mom…”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because when he’s older, he’ll want to be normal,” Brian said, kissing his brother’s head without looking away from her.
“If he wants to be normal, then he’ll be normal. There’s nothing my children can’t do,” she said, smiling at Brian. He gave a small smile in return before carrying his brother inside.
Brian placed him down on his bed, removing his shoes and jacket carefully without trying to wake him.
He pulled the blankets up over him and tucked them around his body, making sure there was no holes where cold air could get in. The little boy stirred and moaned when Brian went to leave the room.
“What is it Chaz?” Brian asked in a soft voice, but the answer came when the little boy stretched his arms out to him.
He went back over to his brother and hugged him tight, releasing a satisfied sigh from the little boy.
“Night little man,” Brian whispered, lying the boy down again and tucking him in.
“Night Brian…” his brother whispered back before sighing and falling back to sleep.
Brian watched him for a while with a loving smile on his face, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him…
A Simple Wish
Sixteen years later…
“Chester…” the deep friendly voice purred warmly into his ears, and the tip of a finger stroked the bridge of his nose continuously, “Oh Chester…”
Chester stirred in his bunk, a small crease appearing in his brow as his eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight of that familiar friendly face.
“Time to wake up dude,” Mike said softly, a sweet smile gracing his features, “We’re home.”
“But I wanna sleep…” Chester mumbled dreamily before grabbing onto Mike and pulling him into the bunk. Mike gave a small laugh and sighed as Chester settled back down, resting his head on Mike’s chest.
“Chester, we’re home now…y’know? Home? As in ‘Tour’s over’?” Mike said.
“Just ten more minutes…” Chester whispered into Mike’s shirt before snuggling deeper into his friend.
“No,” Mike groaned, “I wanna go home…I miss my dog…”
“And I wanna go home and I miss my dog and I miss my wife but I want…to fucking…sleep…okay?” Chester said.
“You can do that when you get inside. You can crash at my house until Sam comes to get you,” Mike said.
“Yes, as long as we get out of this…cramped cupboard that somehow seems to pass as a bed,” Mike complained, shifting around uncomfortably. Chester chuckled his deep cheerful laugh that would make any woman melt into a puddle of goo.
“Okay, I think we can do that,” Chester finally agreed, trying to get out. His leg had become tangled in his bed sheet, which followed him, along with his blanket as he rolled out of the bunk and landed with a ‘oomph’ in the aisle of the tour bus. He saw his other bandmates at the front lounge end of the bus, Brad, Rob, Phoenix and Joe, laughing and shaking their heads at him. He quickly stood up and shook his right leg to free it of the bed sheet.
“I’m okay,” he said with a sheepish grin, grabbing Mike as soon as he managed to crawl out of the bunk and hiding behind him, realising he was only in his boxers.
The others left the end of the bus aisle and disappeared in the front lounge. Mike turned around and looked at Chester.
“You might wanna get some clothes on,” he said with a smile, bending down to grab Chester’s clothes bag from the floor and handing it to him. Chester nodded and pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt as Mike walked off to join the others.
* * *
“You guys wanna stick around?” Mike asked, checking his mailbox, and then seeing that it was empty, threw his bag over his shoulder and grabbed the other off the ground.
“Nah my cars around at Joe’s and I gotta take Phi home, so we’ll walk,” Rob said.
“Yeah, we’ll see you guys later,” Phoenix said.
“Bye,” Brad, Chester and Mike said as Joe, Phoenix and Rob set off down the street.
“Come on men, just around the corner,” they could hear Joe saying when Rob and Phoenix complained about how tired they were.
“Mind if I stay for a bit?” Brad asked Mike.
“No, not at all,” Mike replied as they started walking up the long winding driveway towards Mike’s house at the top of the small secluded hill area.
Chester spotted Mike’s girlfriend’s car at the top of the driveway and started laughing.
“The heinous bitch we like to call heinous bitch is here…oh joy…” Chester said sarcastically.
“She was watching the place while we were away…my poor puppy is probably dead…or malnourished, whatever’s worse,” Mike said, pouting at the thought of his beloved companion dying of starvation.
They were about to walk up the front steps when they heard moaning and heavy breathing coming from Mike’s bedroom window above them.
“That’s not right…” Brad said, frowning as they all stared at the open window, “If she’s in there…and you’re out here…then…”
Before Brad could finish, they all ran up the steps and into the house. Mike’s dog came to greet him, wagging her tail wildly as he pet her.
“Hey Jezzabelle!” he exclaimed quietly, crouching down to ruffle up the golden retriever’s fur and kiss her head.
“Mike, the bedroom,” Brad said, reminding him of their destination.
“Bedroom, right,” Mike said, standing up straight again and walking towards the stairs.
The three men descended the staircase; the dog and the rattle of her dog tag following close behind.
They reached the top and went to Mike’s room, where Mike pushed the door open, revealing the cause of the noise.
Anna, Mike’s girlfriend and the mailman were in Mike’s bed…doing the obvious…
Chester and Brad gasped when they realised what was happening. Mike just stood there with eyebrows raised.
The pair stopped what they were doing and pulled the bed sheets over their naked bodies.
“Mike! You’re…you’re home early,” Anna said, giving a small sheepish smile and raking her fingers through her shoulder length burgundy-brown hair.
“Yeah, we decided not to stay the extra night at the hotel,” Mike replied in a normal tone. As if he hadn’t realised his girlfriend had been caught mid-coitus with the mailman.
“You weren’t due home until tomorrow…” Anna said.
Mike suddenly grinned, as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying.
“Oh, I’m so sorry for interrupting! Forgive my rudeness! Please continue!” Mike growled sarcastically, gesturing furiously at the two. Anna backed away against the headboard, while the mailman just sat there like he was actually going to dare to continue his little activity. Mike looked at him, before grabbing his clothes off the floor and throwing them at him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get out of my house! Now!” Mike yelled, which seemed to shake up the guy. He didn’t move, just started shaking.
He walked over, grabbed the guy by the hair and yanked him out of bed.
“I said out!” Mike shrieked as he pushed the guy out of the room and followed him downstairs. Chester and Brad followed Mike, a bit blown away by Mike’s outburst, but started smiling when Mike threw the guy out onto the front steps.
“If you ever deliver to my house again, you’ll be a dead mailman, got it?” Mike said, pointing his finger at him with threatening eyes. The mailman nodded viciously, eyes wide with terror, “Screw it, I’ll kill ya now…”
With that, the guy grabbed his clothes and ran for his life.
“Just remember punk!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs as the fleeing man disappeared around the corner of Mike’s driveway, which were edged with large green trees, “I know where you live!”
“Jesus Mike, you’re such an asshole!” a now partially clothed Anna said as she pushed past him and went to her car.
“Oh you did not just say what I think you said…I’m the asshole?” Mike asked, following her, “As much as I could have cheated on you while I was on tour, I didn’t. Why? Because I’m a good person. You’re the asshole in all of this! Get off my property!”
Anna threw her bags into the back seat of her car and growled.
“I can’t believe that for one split second I felt sorry for you Michael! We are sooooooo over!” she screamed.
Mike faked a sobbing sound.
“Fine by me!” he yelled back.
Anna growled for the last time, got into her car and slammed the door before starting the car up, making a dangerously fast U-turn and speeding down the hill out of sight.
“Good fucking riddance, whore,” Mike muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing hard at the dust that rose from the disturbed ground.
Brad seemed to think the whole situation was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
Chester, however, was concerned.
“You okay Mike?” Chester asked, his eyes half closed from the brightness of the mid-day sun.
“I’m fine,” Mike replied, turning around to face him. He looked at Brad, who was trying his hardest to stifle a laugh. Chester thought for a second that Mike was going to hit him, but instead, Mike started chuckling, which turned into laughing when Brad let his own escape.
Chester stood there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, pondering if he should join in or not.
“Oh come on Chazzy Chaz, it’s funny!” Brad managed to say between laughs. Chester turned his stare from Brad to Mike again.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chester asked him.
Mike stopped laughing, cleared his throat and grinned, “Totally. Saves me having to break up with her.”
Brad snorted and burst into hysterics again.
Mike gave a small laugh as he eyes stayed on Chester’s.
“I’m alright, really. But thank you for being worried,” Mike said. Chester shed a half smile before Mike grabbed him in a hug.
Chester gave a satisfied grunt when Mike’s arms tightened securely around him, and laughed with Mike when they started rocking side to side.
“Did you see the look on that guys face?” Mike exclaimed quietly into Chester’s ear, a grin playing on his face, “I totally freaked him out!”
“Yeah, you did,” Chester replied with a giggle, before he felt a vibration in the back pocket of his jeans, “Oooh…”
He pulled away from Mike and patted the vibrating pocket before pulling out his mobile phone.
He flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Chester, sweetheart? It’s Roselyn,” the female voice answered through the device.
“Oh hey,” Chester replied. Mike’s eyes questioned him, so Chester covered the end of the phone with his hand, “Sam’s mom…”
“Ohhhh…” Mike replied with a nod.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Chester asked, returning to the phone call.
“Samantha’s been in a car accident. She’s on her way to the hospital at the moment. I don’t know how serious it is but I’m about to leave for the hospital myself. Do you want me to call you when I have any news?” Chester’s mother in-law asked. Chester’s eyebrows twitched upwards briefly before he closed his eyes to black out all of the possible what-ifs that were bashing at his brain, trying to get in.
“Uh…no, I’ll go to the airport and get the first flight home,” Chester said with a stressful moan.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as possible, okay?” Chester answered.
“Okay darling, I’ll see you soon.”
“Alright, bye,” Chester said, before ending the call and staring blankly off to Mike’s house.
“Chaz?” Brad asked.
“What’s happened?” Mike asked, his voice low with concern.
“She’s been in an accident,” Chester responded, walking back towards the house.
“Who has? Roselyn?”
“Shit…is she okay?” Brad asked. Chester shook his head and grabbed his bags from Mike’s doorstep.
“I don’t know…” he replied, “Mike, can I borrow your car?”
“Yeah, of course,” Mike said, taking his keys from his pocket and giving them to Chester.
“Thanks,” Chester said, unlocking Mike’s car and throwing his things into the passenger side.
He stopped and turned to look at Brad and Mike, gazing at Mike with a lost expression.
He quickly went back to Mike and hugged him tight.
“She’s not okay…I can feel it,” he whispered. Mike tightened his grip on him.
“Go to her,” Mike said softly, before letting Chester go and urging him to the car.
“Okay,” Chester said, getting into the car and shutting the door.
Not before long, he was gone, and all that was left was more dust rising from the ground of the driveway.
Mike stared at the rest of the driveway that was in his view, before sinking his hands into his pockets.
“She’ll be okay,” Brad said, “and Chester will call and tell us…and then he’ll come back for the weekend like we organised.”
“I hope so…” Mike replied quietly, feeling his heart sink miserably, “he’s my best friend Brad…If she died, it would kill him…”
“We don’t know how serious it is Mike,” Brad said, “she’s probably got, like, a couple of bruises and cuts…no big deal.”
Brad patted him on the shoulder and walked back towards the house.
Mike took a last glance before following.