Wishing

Whispers swept across the room as the wind carried them through the dark covered window. Conan couldn’t sleep, the glue holding soft lined eyelids shut being washed away by salt filled tears. Rolling his tiny figured body around on the soft sheets, shaking his head trying to rid his head of the awful thoughts and worries.

“Are you asleep honey?” A quiet whisper enters in from another direction contaminating all the other ones.

“Mom! How could be asleep?” The noises of a broken heart breach through his voice, slashing through the chain of whispers swirled above.

Knocking the covers off of himself, his mother began to cross the valley of his room. She stepped all over the litter left on his shaggy carpet floor. The bed seemed to get farther away as she tried to reach it. As Conan watched his mother come towards his bed he saw the movements flow like molasses, slow and smooth. When she finally reached the bed she plopped her equally tiny body onto his now nightmare encrusted bed. She moved her body until her body was touching her son’s. She enveloped her son into a tight bearing hug, trying to give as much comfort as she possibly could as his mother.

“Conan it isn’t your fault that Shaant ran away,” she cooed in his ear. She spun the words around her brain as she spoke them.

“Of course it is Mom!” Conan shouted throwing his mother grasp around him off, pulling forward to hide the seemingly endless tears from his mother.

“But it isn’t Conan! Why can’t you see that Shaant left because he was ready to leave here! I can’t see how you think that you tie into this at all! How you made this seem

to you as being your fault I will never know!” His mother thrusted herself off of Conan’s bed, her movements full of anger and sadness. Tripping over all of the litter she had trudged through earlier. Now taking angry strides to reach his door, this now seemed to never come nearer at all.

When his mother slammed his door shut, Conan finally released all the tears that he so desperately held inside. His mothers didn’t know why his brother had left. She didn’t know the whole story; she didn’t know Conan had told Shaant that he hated his brother’s guts. She had never heard all the times when the brothers fought over and over about stupid things like the bathroom. She had never heard the times when the words that came out of their mouths were words of poison. She never saw the daggers they shout from within at each other. She just didn’t know, and he did.

The thoughts in his head kept turning, like a tilt-a-whirl on hyper driver. The words were spinning endlessly in his mind. He tried to turn them off, flipping the switch every time, just to have the thoughts turn back on and get brighter every time they came back. Hour upon hour passed by, every curse word shrieked under the blanker above his head. Every muffled scream and shout now shot to his pillow. He wished whit all his broken heart that sleep would take him away to place where he could just forget.

“Honey?” Conan’s mother’s words barely audible under his cascade of pillows.

“What!” Conan shouted as he threw the pillows across the bed. His force making he mother shrink back a little. He grumbled at the rays of death shining from his bedroom light. Throwing the blanket off and sitting up looking like a tornado had stormed through him.

“They found Shaant,” she told Conan from the safety of the door frame.

“What! Where is he? Is he okay?” Conan erupted with questions. His heart pounding pulses one after another with no chance of a break. His brain triggered on with the newfound news, had they really found his brother? Was Shaant coming home?

“He is going to be fine honey…” His mother’s emphasis on the word going made Conan stop dead in his tracks.

“What do you mean going?” Conan coked an eye as he said his words as his heart stopped dead.

“Well honey the police found Shaant on the corner of a street two towns away, bloody and battered. They think that he was jumped, but they don’t know for sure. He is in very critical condition; he is in the ICU at the hospital uptown, but honey he won’t be home for awhile.” His mothers voice utter with relief and fear. As she stepped around the once tripped over litter on the carpet on her son’s floor again she crossed over to Conan’s bed once more.

“Well can we go see him?” Conan asked as he jumped off his bed, beginning to rip on a pair of stained jeans onto his uncovered legs.

“Honey its 3 in the morning!” His mother exclaimed at her son’s sudden outburst. She sat him on the bed next to her, finally getting him to sit down she rest her hand on his shoulder. He was so jittery and restless now his heart beating with intensity of a million boxers. She tried to channel her relief and calm into her son, hoping almost praying to her good lord that her son would calm down.

“So? Why can’t we go see him?” Conan asked stopping dead in his tracks, spinning on the bed to face his mother shooting dagger of anger at his mother.

“Honey I know that you want to go see him, but its too later or early either way you look at it the time isn’t right. I promise we will go see him as soon as we both get some sleep.” His mother cooed as she flipped her son’s shaggy auburn hair out of his face.

“Okay,” Conan responder begrudgingly. He didn’t want to wait to go see his brother, but he knew that his mother was right. While his shoulders slumped, and his head sagged her let out a sight of relief; wondering I he would be able to finally sleep.

After he saw that his mother was securely out of his room, he took of his stained pants that were hastily thrown on before. Sliding under the now piled up covers of his bed her stretched out bringing the ends with the limbs as he stretched, plopping his head on the right corner of the pillow, the only place on the pillow left dry. The glues that were once washed away by the salt filled tears were now piling in large clumps, making sleep evade him in a moments notice.

“Conan’s mother seeped into his door way, edging the door open with quiet effort, her head still spinning from everything that had gone on recently. She knew that she should get some sleep that the next couple of hours were going to be horrible. She also knew that these couple of hours may be the only sanctuary she would have. She just couldn’t bring herself to rest. She stared at her son sleeping in his bed like every thing was normal once more. She knew that her boys had been raised right, that her job wasn’t done badly. A single tear escaped from the brim of her eye, only this time her tear was of happiness.





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