text: Bright, white lights welcome Arthur back to consciousness. The deafening beeps of monitors and whirring of machinery greet him upon his awakening. Arthur’s only visible surroundings are a window to his right and a curtain circling around his bed. He tries to remember how he’s ended up here, but the bits that trickle in at random only make him anxious and bothered. He does remember being with someone important right before everything went black. “Oh my god. Oh my god what did I do?” He pulls away the curtains, knocking them over. “Jacob! Jacob where are you?” Arthur frantically shouts, his voice cracking as tears form in his eyes. An alarm is triggered as Arthur slowly rises from the bed. He quickly grabs on to a nearby IV stand , ripping away his tubes and wires. With all his might he drags himself towards the door, ignoring every signal being shot to his brain that his body should not be moving right now. Nurses rush in to the room before Arthur can make his escape “Mr. Donaldson, we need you back in bed immediately. You're not strong enough to be on your feet yet. You need to be resting sir.” “What am I doing here? Where’s my son?” he asks with worry in his voice. He points to the table near him “I have a picture of him in m-my wallet there. Can you tell me where he is?” The nurses all look at each other knowing whoever speaks first must do so with caution. “You were in a very serious accident. You and your son were brought in a few hours ago. He’s currently being operated on. We need you back in bed Arthur.” The mention of his son sends Arthur in to a fit and becomes immensely more powerful than the man who just moments ago couldn’t even stand without aid. “Let me see my son please!” Arthur shouts. Before anyone in the room really knew what was happening, Arthur used the surge of adrenaline to violently attempt to shake off his wardens. Ultimately his struggle sends one of the nurses with a hold on him crashing in to a nearby wall. “Someone call security to Room 530! Patient is becoming aggressive!”. One of the nurses shouts. A few seconds of struggling became hours in Arthur’s mind as he fights to push back the thoughts of what’s happening to his son to the darkest corners he can find. He suddenly feels a pinch on his arm, and the room and faces begin turning blurry as if they were being swirled around on a canvas with the stroke of a brush. His last thought before losing consciousness being, “At least I don’t need to keep thinking anymore”. Arthur’s first memory is of Thanksgiving with his wife and son. No particular year comes to mind, only a flurry of different moments spanning over two decades until one begins to play for him. It was one year Arthur remembered coming home after working a double. The food wasn’t done. Jacob, his son, was crawling across the floor with his toy mustang making all the noises a child can to mimic a roaring engine. The boy couldn’t have been any older than eight or so. Arthur didn’t really keep enough tabs. “Where the hell is the dinner Maureen!? One night Maureen. I just wanted one night where you’d actually be a wife again and show a little appreciation for the things I do for this family. “Please don’t start this in front of your son. It’s Thanksgiving Arthur. Let the boy enjoy it for once and we can talk about it later.” she said with a defeated monotone lacing each word. Jacob’s toy car came to a halt when he heard noises coming from the kitchen. The sound was vaguely similar to one that would always follow after Arthur discovered toy cars lying around the house. He walked into the kitchen to see his mother on one knee, shielding her face as his father had his hand raised in the air above his head. He didn’t like the look in Arthur’s eyes when the toys weren’t picked up. Everything is dark, and Arthur is suddenly in attendance at his son’s sixteenth birthday party. He remembers the feeling of confusion and guilt when he received his invitation in the mail. Neither the boy nor his mother had spoken a word to him in over a year. It was probably for the best. He wouldn’t have anything to say to them. “Thanks for showing, Arthur.” Maureen’s voice coming from beside him “Why the change of heart? Miss me or something?” said Arthur half joking but half serious and still sounding like a complete ass. “I was against it. It was “our” son’s idea. The two parents stand in silence for a few minutes. Both simply watching their son bouncing around the place with a smile completely foreign to Arthur. He didn’t know the boy was capable of it. He can’t help but let a sliver of guilt fester in his mind a bit longer than he’s used to. “You know,” Maureen turns to Arthur “He’s been talking non stop about getting a car for his birthday. He never did grow out of those little toy mustangs he loved so much” Maureen expressed to Arthur. Arthur’s guilt vanishes and is replaced with a feeling similar to a whistling kettle that’s been left on for too long. Too much of a good thing was always too much for him. “So what are you mentioning it to me for? You ain’t want me around the kid anymore Maureen. If you needed help raising him, you should’ve thought of that before you decided to get rid of his father.” Maureen shifts herself right in front of Arthur, unaware of the curious eyes all spectating one after another. “I knew it! You’re still the same deadbeat I threw out of our home. Why can’t you for once just do something nice for your son? Damn it he deserves it!” she pleads. “I GAVE HIM A ROOF OVER HIS HEAD AND FOOD ON THE TABLE! DON’T YOU EVER-” his rant cut short by a soft hand forcefully meeting his face. Maureen never raised her hand in defense before her husband, and the disbelief in his face showed he still wasn’t entirely believing it. Jacob runs to defend his mother, jumping in between the two before Arthur’s raised palm could strike her down. “Why do you always have to ruin everything for me?” cried Jacob as tears descended down his face. “You don’t know nothing about nothing boy. You hear me! I gave you everything you ever needed, and your ungrateful bitch of a mother couldn’t even do the simplest things when I asked.” Arthur spat out the words as if they were poisonous to him. Before another word was spoken from anyone, Jacob cocked back his arm and threw a hook with the full weight of the boy’s last sixteen years behind it. Jacob and Arthur both stumbled to the ground. Arthur quickly jumped on Jacob and started letting his fist fly straight in the boy’s face. It took five people to finally get the beast off his son. Maureen held Jacob in her arms on the ground as the boy shouted for Arthur to leave them alone. Arthur’s rage finally subsided, and his breathing returned to normal. The looks on the faces of every party goer were akin to someone witnessing a rabbit being torn apart by a hungry fox. The smile Jacob managed to hold on to till a few moments ago, was now replaced by one that Arthur felt much familiar with and somehow put him at ease. He knew his place, he supposed. Arthur’s time away from his family finally hit him years later. He didn’t want to call it an epiphany, or a mid life crisis. He wasn’t the type to make excuses for himself. He knew he was a piece of trash father and husband. He couldn't quite pin a reason to it. Sometimes he’d think to himself during those moments that he was just made this way and there wasn’t anything he could do but accept it instead of driving himself crazy trying to rationalize everything. He knew something needed to change, but didn’t know where to begin or if it would matter at this point. How could he make any of it right? Does he even know his son at all? Before anything could come to mind, he’s pulled back in to the same dark place that’s been letting him peer through these memories. He sees a bit of light a long ways away down the endless darkness around him. He makes his way towards it. It doesn’t seem to be getting any close, so Arthur picks up his pace. The light is getting further away now. Arthur breaks in to a full sprint through the darkness, screaming his son’s name at the top of his lungs. Memories of the past appearing all around him. Every moment he hurt his wife, every time he shunned his son and every opportunity he missed on telling them he loved them. The light was finally in reach and Arthur reached for it with all his might. Arthur shoots upright in the hospital bed yelling his son’s name. He’s sweating profusely and he’s completely out of breath despite just waking up. He feels something cold around his wrist. He’s been handcuffed to the bed. He deserved it . What was he thinking? But he needed to know what was happening with his son. He began rattling the cuffs against the bedside as loudly as possible, eventually getting the attention of a nearby nurse from the hallway. “Please ma’am I’m sorry for the way I reacted earlier. I just need to know if my soon is alright. His name is Jacob Donaldson” “I’m sorry Mr.Donaldson but I don’t think I’m the person you should be receiving this kind of news from.” said the nurse as she pretended to hear someone calling for her to avoid doing what she was about to. “What news? Tell me what’s happened please! No one will tell me anything-” Arthur is suddenly cut off by a commotion coming from outside the room. The voice of a distraught woman sounds off outside Arthur’s room. Before he could process anything, his ex wife charges at him with a look in her eyes far more broken than anything he’s seen before. “You son of a bitch you killed him! You killed my baby boy!” Maureen says though her voice is cracking and the seams. Maureen continues her barrage as security guards and nurses rush in. Arthur doesn’t put up a fight. He knows now why he’s here. He knows what’s happened. In between the punches from his ex wife and the chaos of bodies and noises all flurried together surrounding him, he found his dreams to be a bit ironic now. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh “How can you laugh after what you did to your son you twisted -” Maureen pauses as Arthur’s laughs turn in to something else entirely. Something she can’t be sure she’s ever heard from her ex husband. Arthur was crying. The funeral came and went. Arthur knew he’d never be allowed to attend. He wasn’t going to argue. Jacob was just as much his son as Maureen and he deserved to be there and he shouldn't care what anyone has to say. But just as quickly as those irrational thoughts began to build up as they always do, this time Arthur simply cried. He’d shed more tears in the last week then he ever will in any lifetime he may ever live. A ringtone goes off and Arthur contemplates answering the call or forcing the phone through a sheet of drywall. “Hello, Mr.Donaldson” says the voice on the other end. “Hello” “Mr.Donaldson we were calling to confirm that you’ll still be coming by the lot to pick up your purchase. We did the best we could to make it ready for the road. You’re quite the lucky fellow you know?” exclaimed the man. “Yea? How’d you figure that? “Well these old Mustangs aren’t exactly falling out of trees these days. I heard you were in a bit of a fender bender on the way here last week? I do hope you’re alright. I know your son would hate to miss out on taking you for a ride in this beauty. Mr. Donaldson are you still-” Arthur can’t bear it anymore. He lashes out at the closest thing to him. The kitchen table gets the worst of it. Arthur drops to the floor after he tires himself out, but still manages to force himself to continue sobbing. He crawls over to the living room, grabbing the little toy car perched next to an old photo of Jacob and himself from a Christmas when Jacob was still a baby. Arthur holds the toy car to his chest and shouts as loudly as he can, but not with words. Guttural noises wrapped in his own guilt and sadness are all that escapes him. Arthur lays on the ground, knowing his son will never know his father cared after all.