Death on Holiday

Chapter 22

4 weeks after the eruption and since our lives were turned upside-down, we returned home. The captain of our cruise ship had stayed docked where it had been, but after 2 weeks, he announced he would take anyone back to Australia, and the company would pay for flights back to Sydney for anyone who was staying behind with loved ones in hospital.

I stayed by Harvey's side the entire time. He apparently acted better with me around. Like he was trying to recover and get well for me, and when I was there, he could see that future. As his spirits rose with me by his side, I was allowed to sit with him longer hours than most visitors were. He was still in a coma, with brief wake ups every now and then, and his hand squeezes got stronger each day. Other parts of his body began to respond as well, such as his feet, and even his legs!

His dad, Robert, though, was still sick. He was discharged from a hospital bed, but he continued to stay in the building. His depression was severe, but no matter how hard everyone tried, he wouldn't open up about what and how he felt. He just sat by Harvey and Max's sides alternatively, and didn't say a word. Sometimes he'd walk off in tears, apparently, according to Max.

She actually was recovering. Her hair was growing back, and the burns all over her body were healing nicely. Her speech improved each time I visited her. It seemed the accident wouldn't leave too much of an effect on her, way less than previously thought. Her head was back to normal, and even though there was the occasional odd word said incorrectly or missed, her sarcastic remarks were slowly returning. It was a miracle to watch both her and Harvey. They gained life before my eyes.

*****

The world was and still is a cruel place. I didn't realise that as much before the eruption. I never used to believe those people that said, "Life is short!" "You only live once!" "Get the most out of life while you still have it!" But now I do.

It's a shame it took that to happen to make me understand.

*****

Because of how much Harvey needed me, I had to stay back until he was ready to be moved. It took a month before he could act properly again. His legs, much like Brendon's had been, were burnt and severely damaged. He'd tried to stand up in hospital, me, Max, his dad, and 5 doctors by his side. He hadn't been able to even remember how to move his legs, let alone walk. It was organised he'd have to see specialists and physios back home in Sydney. They'd be able to hopefully help him back to his walking state and use his legs once more.

My family and the Watson's returned home before us. We were overseas in New Zealand for an extra week or two, no one was counting. But finally we (meaning Mr Johnson, Ben, Luke, Max, Harvey and me) caught the plane. We were a ragged bunch. Mr Johnson sat beside his sons in a regular row, whereas me and Max sat beside Harvey in the disabled seating at the back of the plane. My friend was actually wearing makeup, courtesy of Pheobe before she left the weeks earlier. She also wore a cheap beanie we'd found that covered her entire head. No one could see her strange hairstyle. And Harvey, beside us, looked weird in a wheelchair. He was the one in our group who hadn't EVER been properly injured. I'd broken my leg once, Pheobe her arm, and Max had even broken a couple of ribs. But Harvey was too careful to ever hurt himself.

Well, that's what used to be the case.

But he looked at me on the plane the majority of the time, and that calmed all of my nerves that this journey would end badly too.

*****

It was good to be home, when we landed, but something wasn't right. Who am I kidding, we all knew what it was: People were missing. Some weren't coming back to Australia with us, or well, alive. They would forever have lost their soul in New Zealand.

So far, yet so close, to home.