Undying Echo {1}

31 | Underwater

Ethan's eyes flitted back from Thomas to Kingsley before looking down at the ball resting at his feet. He didn't have much time. He needed to pass the ball. Yet, both of his teammates were being blocked by two of the opposed team, one of them being Ryder.

One Heartbeat. Two Heartbeats. His ears rang, and finally, he found a clearing. Speeding off with the ball, he headed for the opposing team's goal, but before he could strike, he saw Ryder from the corner of his eye and instead of striking, he passed the ball to Brent.

Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Ethan told himself as he lay down on the green grass of the school's soccer field. He couldn't describe how it felt to just lay down after a full day of hardcore practice.

He felt like the ground was swallowing him up. Yet, he didn't care to move. To fight it. The grass felt nice touching his skin, the sun ray warm on the back of his eyelids. He was so tired, and his eyelids were so heavy. He just wanted to rest them for a second, a little bit of hope lingering at the back of his mind, that maybe, just maybe, the noises would go away if he closed them.

The next time Ethan opened his eyes, he was in the hospital. The first thing he noticed was his damp hand clasped between his mother's. Then, her warm smile that didn't quite hide the concern in her blue eyes.

He remembered dozing off during practice. Did he not wake up after that? Would that even be enough of a reason to get him to the hospital? There must have been something else, something more serious. Maybe someone hit his head with the ball while he was dozing off, and when they made sure he was out for good this time, they called his Mom, and his Mom being his Mom, exaggerated and took him to the hospital.

At least he knew there wasn't something too serious, because what mother would smile if she knew her son wasn't okay?

Ethan checked his mother's eyes. No tears, no redness, and no bags or dark circles. Yup, definitely not serious.

"Mom?" He said slowly, noticing that his throat is clear when he spoke. So he wasn't out long.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" His Mom's sweet voice said as she stroked his cheek tenderly.

"Um, I feel fine. Why am I in the hospital? What happened?" He asked tentatively, watching his Mom's expression carefully.

"Don't you remember?"

"Remember what? The last thing I remember is being at soccer practice then dozing off on the ground. But what does that have to do with the hospital?" Ethan frowned, confused as hell about what happened.

"Sweetie, you didn't doze off. You passed out."

Turning the knob, cold water splashed down at Ethan's back until goosebumps appeared on his arms, before heating gradually and warming him up.

Rubbing some shampoo in his hair absently, he thought back to what the doctor had said after his mother had gone to call him because Ethan woke up.

Dr. Jonathan had grey peppered hair and wrinkled pale skin. His eyes tired as he asked Ethan a few questions as to if he had slept and eaten well these days, and when Ethan's answers were all positive, he asked if he noticed anything strange happening to him, symptoms of any kind.

At that, Ethan had halted, not sure if he should tell him about the ringing in his ears, water breaking from his ear, or the many times he didn't hear the school bell, doorbell, or his phone.

So when his mother squeezed his hands in reassurance, he relented and told the doctor everything, along with the hit to his head, leaving out the headphones situation.

Dr. Jonathan had listened carefully to every word Ethan said, asking him to describe the ringing in his ears and if blood ever drained from his ears, nodding every few seconds. And when Ethan was done, the doctor told his mother that they would do a few tests for now, and to expect a call from him soon.

Turning off the water, Ethan grabbed a fresh clean towel and wrapped it around his waist, before taking another smaller one and drying his hair. Unlocking the door to the bathroom, he wasn't surprised when he saw Penelope laying on his bed, gluing her eyes to him and staring shamelessly once she heard the click of the bathroom door being unlocked.

She somehow always ended up in his room when he took a shower, and he didn't need to ask if it was on purpose based on her eyes wandering openly all over him whenever he stepped out.

Getting into his closet, he quickly put some clothes on before Penelope could say anything to imply that he didn't have to or try to convince him of coming to the bed with her. After all, he wasn't in the mood, and after what happened today he was just feeling tired and wanted to rest.

Penelope being Penelope, she dragged him to his bed and managed to steal a few kisses here and there before settling next to him and asking him what the doctor said.

There's a hole on Dr. Jonathan's wall, the one just behind his desk, 12 inches above the old doctor's head, and Ethan couldn't focus on anything besides it.

Opposed to the chair he was sitting in, were his parents, sitting on a double set of chairs. Yeah, this time his father had also come. And from the corner of his eye, he could see his mother playing with her fingers nervously.

From the moment his mother received the phone call from the hospital, he sensed something was up, different. Something serious. And now they're sitting in the doctor's office, sweating over what they're going to hear.

The doctor cleared his throat, before launching into whatever reason he called them for. But it was all a blur to Ethan because he couldn't focus on anything that came out of the doctor's mouth.

It was like he was underwater, and the words were in bubbles all around him, floating up to the surface. Every now and then, he would catch a word. Pressure. Impact. Rupture. Eardrum. Noises. Tinnitus. Dizziness. They all sounded like they were just words. Meaningless words. But his mind was connecting the dots, yet his consciousness refused to make a meaning out of them.

He felt a sudden warmth on his hand, and his unfocused eyes turned to look at his mother's small hand covering his, squeezing tightly. But this time, he couldn't figure out if she was reassuring him, or herself.

A hand on his shoulder, his Dad. A harder squeeze. Telling him to snap out of it. To man up and take it all in with his head up. To face the consequences and to be patient.

But he couldn't, for the life of him, focus on anything but his heart beating in his ears.