At Week's End

"Fuck, are you kidding me? This cannot be happening right now!"

"What? What's wrong Jared?"

"My phone just died. Not to mention we're stuck in the middle of fucking North Hollywood."

What I thought was going to be a pleasant trip to the beach, a few concerts, and fine dining turned upside down and inside out. I just needed to take the I-10 East, that was it. How the hell could I mess this up? Stranded in the middle of North Hollywood at 2 A.M. with a dead phone couldn't of been a more perfect way to end this weekend. Saturday, an Enter Shikari concert. Sunday, the beach and then seeing Emery. The best two days I could of ever had.

Yet, I completely drove us the wrong direction. From Pomona to North Hollywood was just the start of the disaster. Chelsea did tell me that this wasn't the right direction as we turned on freeway entrance, but I was certain I was right.

After about an hour and a half the signs weren't looking familiar, Burbank? This isn't Cabazon? We should be near Cabazon by now. I had to call my mother to try to get the right directions. Too bad my phone died. Nonetheless we finally were heading home.

Riverside, finally one more town closer to getting into a bed. A bit more of an hour to go. And not to mention the additional two and a half hours spent backtracking. With time going against me, I have to power through and get everyone home safe. Perhaps I need to play some heavier music, Search The City should be great. Okay, almost home.

My eyes are getting heavy. I just need to focus; eyes right on the road. Stay focused on the music and the road. Okay, just shake my head and it'll wake me up. Can't lose. The dark, so tiring and exhausting. It's calling to me. Woah, shit. Did I fall asleep? Have to stop swerving. Okay, okay, stay awake. Just another hour. But the eyes...getting heavy....

"Jared! Jared! Wake up!"

Too late. The road was already rough. With my eyes slammed shut I can feel the force of the car tearing through a fence. Hands clenched, knuckles white, on the steering wheel. The black has never seemed more terrifying. The screaming and chaos began to invade the vehicle. All of a sudden gravity turned off. We were airborne. Only a few seconds in the air turned into a feeling of forever. Next thing to do was to crash to the ground. Glass shattering in our faces, airbags creating counter-force to the momentum of heads flying foreword. We had landed, almost. When the wheels of the car had escaped the ground we turned and landed upside down, slanting. My eyes finally opened.

"Is everyone okay?!"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," was Chelsea's reply, relieved, but I could sense the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Erika, on the other hand. She had a different response.

"Jared, I think I'm bleeding from the head. Hurry! get me out!"

"Alright, alright...hold on girls!" I demanded politely. I had to unbuckle my seat belt, and being upside down made it all that more challenging. I flipped myself upright and crawled out the shattered window. As I got to my feet I could see the extensive damage my negligence had caused. Not only did the car land upside down, but where we had landed caused a problem: a steep grassy hill.

I quickly ran around to the passenger's side of the car. Sharp glass, from the windows exploding from the crash, painted the green, and now oil stained, grass. Going prone, I tried to get Erika out first. Still being trapped by her seat belt, I told her to hold,

"Hun, let me try to unbuckle you."

In panic and shock, she became more nervous, "Hurry! Hurry! I'm bleeding and I don't know where from..."

"Jared!" Chelsea called, "I could get out but I need your help."

"Erika, you're going to have to wait, I have to get Chelsea out, okay? Just one second."

I helped Chelsea out. She was as dirty as I was, though I'm not too sure from what. I told her to wait by the road, I needed to get Erika out before something worse happened. Going back to the wreck I got Erika free. She stood up and a small trail of blood went from the center of her forehead, hidden by her long hair, to the brow of her left eye, just passed where her nose and forehead meet. The girls were out, mostly unharmed. Granted they had lost their shoes and all of the cellphones were gone....crap. The cellphones. We need to call 911.

I began to dig through the wreckage, but nothing. With the car flipped over and our things scattered it was impossible to find anything. I quickly gave up. The girls were waiting, held in shock, by the road confused.

"Okay I can't find the phones, so I'll have to flag someone down."

They shook their heads to show they understood.

I ran to the top of the hill. Car parts were laid out on both sides of me, and the hill. Headlight, parts of the hood, and even, at least what I believe to be, the bumper. I reach the I-10 and there was but one car on the road. I waived my arms wildly to gain their attention. They came to a slow stop. It was a man and a women.

"Excuse me, but I just crashed and I need your phone to call 911."

"No worries, I am already calling...we saw you crash and called as soon as you went off the road," he replied.

I thanked him and hurried back to the girls at the bottom of the hill. It's going to be okay, that guy called 911. Help should be on their way shortly. I hugged them both to try to comfort them. But the adrenaline and shock was heavy, making it seem like they would never subside.

A few moments, at least was appeared to be three minutes, a fire truck, tow truck, an ambulance, and two cop cars arrived as one. The firemen circled the car, checking for any internal damage that would cause the car to explode. The EMTs rushed to us to check for injuries. I was fine, no whiplash or cuts; as was Chelsea, just stunned that we survived. Then they got to Erika, who had the trail of blood now go down her entire face. Seeing trying to find the source of the bleeding was hard to watch. What was even harder, is when they told me they had to take her to the hospital. I begged them not to, she was fine; coherent, alert, alive. They brushed me off, saying they don't want to take any chances.

"What?! No! No! I don't want to...honey please tell them no!" she cried.

"I'm sorry hun but it is out of my hands, they have to take you in," I replied.

I gave her a passionate hug and they placed her on the gurney. While the EMTs were placing her on the gurney I noticed a huge bus pull up. It was a tour bus, which made it even more confusing. I stared at it wondering who was coming out. Four men emerged from the bus and walked up to us.

"Hey are you guys okay?" they asked.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine. Thank you," was my response with a nod.

"We were just about to stop for a break and we saw your accident. We just wanted to make sure everyone was safe."

"Yes, yes, we're safe. Everyone survived and is okay. Thank you again."

"Is there anything that we can do? Oh! Water? You need water?" he offered.

One member of the group went back into the tour bus and grabbed five to seven bottles of water. Chelsea and I took one bottle each, setting the extras next to us. The group talked to us and offered what little help they could, and once we declined politely, they had to leave. But before they left I realized I knew who these people were: the band Emery. The one we saw no more than five hours ago. Once my mind wrapped around the fact that they were Emery I had almost forgotten the mess I was already in. I told Chelsea and we sat down on the curb star-struck.

I turned to tell Erika what had happened, but she was all strapped in and was being rolled into the ambulance. I asked for a few moments together before they took her. Tears started, out of fear and shock. She hated the hospital and what's worse is she has to go alone. Only friends and family can ride in the ambulance. I grabbed her hand, gazing softly in her eyes told her, "It'll be okay, honey. I love you and they are going to take care of you." We both became weepy. I stepped back. They shut the door. The ambulance left.

Chelsea and I were stranded. I sat back down on the curb next to her. I finally took everything. The car mangled and demolished. The lights and sirens invading my thoughts, engraving the image of this night. Exit 96, in Beaumont, will forever torture me. Even after calling my parents, getting Erika out of the hospital, cleaning the blood from my shirt, I will always have that feeling of gravity being turned off embedded in me. That night still seems like it happened too fast, from the moment we crashed to the next day when looked at the car, I can't believe we just walked away from it.

I thought, "Fuck, are you kidding me? This cannot be happening."

The Ones That Got Away

I. To Which, I Was Struck

As the morning woke I saw your face.

Shining, shimmering, a true gift of grace.

Walking passed is another leaf of many,

but I want to be the only one to blossom.

I reach, yet cannot touch. I think, yet dare not say.

My words are frail and come weak.

Tearing and leaving me aching for more,

I'm left with the shame of excuses and lose ended nooses.

To know your name, would be the reward

to the hardest of work to put down my guard.

II. By The Bullet, I was The Target-bird.
I flew high, to reach the Heavens.

Remarkable how the gravity rips the air,
You were the glorious sun

stripping me of my wax wings.

Tell me, how the you saw the pain fill my heart.

Surrender, the meaningless of separation in art.

Unknown to you, I gave it my all.

But you shoot me down for him in an inferno curtain call.

I morphed to see your eyes,

a mistake that I shouldn't of given up shield to compromise.

Once my feet left the ground I had to take my chance,

This wasn't in my odds to win and find romance.

V. The Clashing To Shutter All Waves.

Stumbling and whispering, the man seems so confused.

A reckoning, a suffering, I am the one who lost their way.

Once upon a weary time
I held my hope into them,

but now, all I see, is a man releasing my demons.

Awake, my solitude, a holy tune, whispering in my head.

End, my hungry thought, a tasteless trot,
the scissor to cut our thread.

Hope, please be found. I will, I'll break my bounds.
Tender: used to be the old me. Surrender: your body to the sea.

You took both of them, robbed and stolen,

There's no way to erase the stakes that bruised.

Goodbye, to the wall that binds.
Waves, take him to blacken grave.

My soul, laid before them. You had your chance.
Why would you damage the goods I adore.
You were the plague to ruin my dreams.
Like this shore, your imprint cannot last.

Come and go, the women crash on.

You took back the girl. You overthrew my crown.
Struck, beaten, collapsing to the ground.

Trial and error, risk and gamble

My heart lies, broken and shackled.

Away From Here

As Peter was overlooking the dark water, I couldn't help but sense the sadness on his face. Having being around him the longest I knew when something was bothering him. Peter sat on a rock we liked to call “the Lighthouse”, because it was settled on the highest point of our hideout. His dark green tunic made of makeshift felt and leaves turned a shade of black in the light of the two moons. His hat of leather and wool laying softly on the bowl of his head. The red feather from a cardinal tucked on the left side of the hat. I approached him,

“What's wrong Peter?” I asked with my voice shaking.
He turned his head towards my voice, for a split second we made direct eye contact. The whites of his eyes in the dark showed the direction of his stare. I couldn't entirely see his face in the moonlight, making me put the torch in my line of sight. I saw, for a moment, his eyes full of emptiness and worry. He turned back towards the water.
“Do you ever get tired of fighting pirates? Do you ever get tired messing with the Natives? Adventures never lose their fun, I want something more.”
I walked up and sat down next to him on the ground. I tilted my head, trying to understand what he meant. Since I can only read his face, not his mind, I questioned,
“What do you mean? You don't like sword fights and killing those dastardly pirates?”
“No, I do! I enjoy teaching those lame-brains that no one pushes us around!” he answered excitedly. But he continued,
“Tootles, you ever wonder what is out there?”
Peter always loved searching for new lands. He was the king of exploration. We both looked out onto the water, the moons were settled high in the sky. Glowing. Shinning. The Lighthouse gave us more than a pretty view from the top, it also provided enough space to think clear. Peter never slept much, so if he wasn't in his hut, he was would be here.
“No, I guess I never thought of much else.”
Peter turned his head in my direction, speaking very carefully, “I'd always thought there would always be something new for me, and us, to find. I go out on these adventures with you and the rest of the Lost Boys, but where else is there to go?”
By the casualness of his posture; his legs crossed, tucked up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, Peter seemed to lighten up. He would often do a rocking motion when in deep thought. Peter was never one to sit still.
We both sat in quiet for a moment or two. The silence demanded we speak about the past adventures. How we laughed at Nibs when got chased by the wolves. At Slightly for when he got captured by the Natives. The bouncing of stories sparked something. Peter's face perked up. He smiled wildly.
“I know what I want! Have you ever wondered about what happens outside this place? I want to know about these stories that happen far, far away. Tootles, take care of everyone while I'm gone. I'll be back by sunrise.”
I inquired him, requesting that he please think about what he is doing. He has never left Neverland. The worry and frustration tossed my stomach in a whirlpool of negative feelings.
“Peter! What are you talking about? Leave Neverland? What if you can't make it back?”
Peter smiled whole heartily. He placed his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with his courageous, joyful eyes,
“I know what I'm doing. I'm going to find adventure on the outside. I'll always know where Neverland is. This place is home. I'll be back, I promise.”
I was left speechless. He was our leader; we trusted him with our lives. No one would dare question Peter. He wasn't scared of fear, monsters, or death. It seems he would find great adventure in death. And he flew off. The clash of black and blue in the sky called for him. The stars burning bright. No clouds. Just stars and the moon. Peter was no more than a speck till I last saw him.

The red morning flames shined into my eyes, to which it woke me. But what woke me more was the sound of the Lost Boys yelling in excitement. I rubbed my half-opened eyes and peered out of my hut. The Lost Boys surrounded Peter in what appeared to be a frenzy of questions and demands. From the center of the circle, Peter looked up and saw me.
“Tootles! Come down here! I have great stories to tell!,” he called out.
I approached the peaceful riot. Nibs, the Twins, Slightly, and Cubby all with teeth-baring smiles spoke at once to tell me Peter had some stories to tell. I gazed back at Peter. He nodded thrice with enthusiasm. I began to open my mouth but Slightly formed his words first.
“Come on Peter! Tell us the story again!”
“Alright, alright, Boys. Everyone sit down. This is the story of Beauty and the Beast!”
Peter began telling us of a beautiful young lady who held prisoner by an ugly prince. The prince was ugly because he was cursed by witch that made his ugliness show on the outside. I looked around and listened to the story, but also noticed the Lost Boys' faces. The concentration. So focused and accurately listening to Peter talk. This is what is must be like to be a family.
Peter would fly out in the middle of the night, come back at sunrise, and tell us the stories he's heard. I became curious about where he was hearing these stories from. So I raised my hand and asked when all of us were gathered in a circle.
“Peter, where do you hear these stories from?”
“Well,” he said puzzled, “some lady called 'Mother.' “
“What's a mother?” asked Cubby.
Peter's shoulders slumped down, eyes shifted left to right slowly. “A mother is some lady who tucks you in at night, brings you warm milk, and tells you stories so you can go to sleep.”
All at once, we were struck in awe. The heads turned to face one another, eager. Together in one loud yell, we demanded, “We need a mother!”
And thus, began the events of Peter finding a mother for us. We were lonely, sad, and a bit pathetic. But with a mother, we would be complete. Every night Peter would seek us someone to become our mother. A companion to aid and tell us stories. And each night would tell us stories about Princesses, monsters, and magic. But we never satisfied, mainly because he would tell us the same story we've already heard. He peeked in every closed window, and went into every open one. I hope we find a mother soon, we could use her now.