I Blame You ▪ Evril (Avril Lavigne and Evan Taubenfeld)

Chapter 8

"Evan!"

He could hear it.

He could hear reality finally cutting a hole in his dreamy mental picture book.

"Evan!" The water that seemed as if it were suffocating his ears began to drain into nothingness.

And to whom did this mysterious voice belong?

He could pair no person he had known with this strange voice.

With these many voices.

Just a voice, floating in the air.

It was hard to put a question to this nonsense.

There was no one question to cover all that he had seen and heard and felt.

He wouldn't bother to think up any.

The confusion was enough to set him into a destructive panic and a tired daze all at once.

He wasn't sure what to make of it.

He wasn't sure what it was.

If it should be considered nothing. Or something?

The was air dehydrating his eyes. It was uncomfortable to say the least.

But what scenes lay before his eyes did not appear. Only the scenes behind them.

Back and forth, his mind went.

"Evan, please don't leave me." Avril shook her head as his body lay terrifyingly still in her trembling arms.

"Dude, respond to me! Shake your head or something!"

Am I dead yet? he asked himself. He was not fearful. He was not satisfied. He was empty. He was drained. Much to drained to think or identify what he was feeling. He just simply existed at this point. Non vita.

His brain was sl0wb3837ly4r9393deter9o39rior4848k93ating83e99393.

"Evan David!"

"Evan David Taubenfeld."

***

"He's going to be fine, guys! The lady said! It's just a little headache from the concussion!" Matt's attempt to reassure everyone didn't seem to succeed as much as he'd wished.

Avril was not handling anything well.

Between her haziness after waking up and learning the news of her boyfriend while she was trapped in a squeaky hospital bed as cords and wires twisted up her arms, she felt like a dark cloud had swarmed over her brain. Like she couldn't even fully open her eyes.

It was overwhelming.

Evan had since taken his medicine and been taken back to the bus where he and Avril had been staying.

His girl was not able to see him.

And he was not able to see his girl.

They were separated in a time where the two needed each other most. In a time where they were both hurting and confused.

He had convinced everyone that it was a mere headache, and that he just needed some rest, but, truth be told, he had dreamed.

Or was it a dream?

Was it ptsd?

Anxiety?

Something was wrong.

Something more than his dreaded concussion.

He was worrying-and dreaming- about things that hadn't even grazed his mind in months. The moment he arrived in the back bedroom of the bus, he collapsed to the floor in a fit of heavy, uncontrolled breathing. His head was spinning with the notion that Avril hated him, despite the fact that all had been resolved long ago. Everything was heavy. He felt out of control. He was dreading something. He feared that something was going to happen that he couldn't escape. He was terrified. Insecure. He wasn't sure how to cope with these sudden and painful thoughts and emotions.

A weight was tied around his muscles and his heart.

He couldn't reach the knot that held everything together.

So instead, he just let himself lay on the shiny wood floor to bask in comfort and relief. Like there is nothing else. He needed that moment, or perhaps he'd go crazy otherwise.

You could assume the worst.

And perhaps he'd attempt the worst, because he just didn't know how take on this much confusion. This much complexity.

This moment did not last, for in a few minutes after his eyes rested on a brown plank of wood in the floor, all he could see was Avril rushing to assist him after his brutal attempt to take his own life some months ago. Blood ran into the leaves. Tears ran into the dirt. And a loss of hope ran into Avril's mind.

Yo this is so bad I'm sorry sjjdjdjddh