The Coronation by Becca Marien (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📖

came, you were lying on the floor. They said they think you tried to get out of the way. But there was something weird." She shook her head in disbelief, "Your door was missing."

"My door?"
So I hadn't imagined it.

"Yes," She nodded, "Completely gone. Ripped off clean."

"All I remember was the log coming for me." I shook my head, and put a hand on my arm that was broken, "And a hand, like this."
"What did the hand do?"
"I don't remember." I shook my head.

"Why didn't you tell the Doctors?"
"Because I didn't know if I was imagining it or not. I wanted to go home. It could have been one of the medics taking my pulse for all I know. I could have been fading in and out. I didn’t trust the doctors anyways."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Well, you know, because you're my Mom," I lifted a hand, "Besides, who knows what really happened. You heard the Doctor, it was impossible. It could have been anything. The mdeic makes the most sense to me."

She took a bite of her burger, and dad walked in.
"The Phyc will handle the pills." Dad handed her the bag.

            Mom dug through the bag, and came up with a bottle. She shook a pill out onto her hand and held it out to me. I quickly took the pill. Mom got up to make Dad a plate of food. It was strange. It felt way too homey.
"Can I call Pierce?" I asked.
"You'll have to use the land line." Dad pointed, "Your phone got smashed."
"But eat your dinner first sweet heart." Mom pointed at my plate with the spatula.

"When can I go back to school?"

"When the Doctor says so." Dad stole one of my onion rings, "You have weekly Doctors’ visits."
I moaned.
"Don't worry sweet heart." Mom comforted, “Just Cat scans. A quick IV to inject dye that will make everything pop."
"Joy."

            I finished off my food and took the phone to my room. Dad stopped eating to walk me upstairs and Mom stood at the bottom of the case. I closed my door and shooed Dad away. I changed into my favorite pajamas, and tossed in a few logs into the fire place. I lit the fire and sat down on my couch.

 I pulled a blanket around me and dialed his cell.
"How is she?"

No hello.

"Alive."
"You're home!" I could hear the smile in his voice, "Solan, I was so worried about you. They wouldn't let me see you. They said there were too many risks. Family only."
"Well you can make it up to me and come and see me. I'm on house arrest until Doc deems me fit for school."
"Can I come over tonight?"
"My parents are here."
"Parents?"
"Yeah it's weird. Come by first thing in the morning."
"Okay. Just call me when you wake up."
"I will." I yawned.
"You need sleep."
"But I want to talk to you!"
"I'll be there tomorrow." He promised.
"Okay."
"I love you Solan."
"I love you too."
"And no freak accidents on the way to the bathroom."
I laughed, "No promises."
"Comforting."

"I'll do my best. I promise."
"Alright, bye."
"Bye."

            I hung up the phone and stared at my fire. How many people died in that accident? How lucky was I to have survived the initial accident. How many kids and parents where morning their lost ones? Brothers and sisters?

There was a knock on my door, and I jumped.

I cleared my throat, "Come in."

Dad opened my door, "You done with the phone?"
"Oh yeah," I held the phone out.
            Dad came over and took the phone from me.

"So you need anything?"
"A goodnights sleep."

"I'll have Mom bring you your sleeping pill."
"Thanks."
"Sure." He kissed my head, "Goodnight, I love you."
"I love you too."

            After he left my room I got up and walked to my bed. I moved the pillows and pulled down the blankets. I sat down, and was pulling the blanket over my legs as Mom came in. She walked over to me and handed me the pill and a glass of water. I took the pill, handed her the glass of water, and lay back.

            She set the glass on the side table and sat next to me.

"I know what I did was wrong." She started, "Cheating on your Dad, breaking your safety net. I'm so sorry, and I'm really trying to move past that. These last six years have been... There are no words. I don't even know why I did it."
"Dad said it was because he worked too much. You were lonely."

She nodded sadly, "I guess. But it still didn't make it right. I made a promise, an oath, and I broke that. I can never make that up to your Dad. Never erase it from his mind."

"He seems to of forgiven you."
"Yeah," She shook her head, "But I know the sting is still there. I can see it when he looks at me."

"I feel funny."
"It's just the Ambien." She kissed my head, "Go to sleep. I love you."
"Love you."
            I watched her leave through heavy lids. She turned off the light and closed the door. My room was lit with the warm glow of the fire. My eyes slid shut, and I tried to open them, but they wouldn't.

You're home.

 

The next morning I woke up to nothing but the sounds of my fire cracking and dying. I jumped as a loud boom of thunder roared. My black curtains light up from lightning, and rain poured. I sighed. Almost no rain.

I still felt sleepy, like I was heavy. But that was the best night’s sleep that I had gotten in a while. And no dream. I yawned and stretched. I got up, peed, and headed out onto the landing.

            That's when I smelt it. My favorite breakfast. French toast. I held tightly onto the railing and made my way down stairs.

"Look at you!" Dad beamed.

"I have your favorite." Mom smiled, "Have a seat."
            In the weeks leading up to the divorce, I would wake up every morning to the sound of them yelling. They always fought in the kitchen, which evidently, was right below my bedroom. I sat at the table and tucked my feet under my legs.

"How'd that sleeping pill work for you?" Dad asked.
"Good. I woke up not tired. And I didn't wake up."
"No dream?" Mom asked, setting down my plate and a cup of milk.

"No dream." I took a bite of my toast.
Mom had pre-cut it.

"Thank God for that." Dad muttered.
"It comes and goes."
"When was the last time you had the dream?" Mom sat down with her plate.

"The night before I came home."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
I shrugged, "Not much anyone can do."
"It sounds like its PTSD." Mom said.
"Don't phyc our daughter."
"I'm sorry, but honey, you might want to talk to someone whose specialty is that department."
"Maybe."
She smiled, "Just think it over and get back to me on it. No rush."
"I will." I nodded.

“So we've been discussing somethings." Dad began, "About getting you a new car."
"I don't want one." I quickly shook my head, eyes getting wide.

They looked at each other worried.
"Honey-"
"I don't want one." I cut Mom off.

"But sweetie-"
"I don't want one!" I yelled covering my ears, “Never again!"

"Sweetheart," Dad touched my arm.
"I said no!" I screamed.
            I jumped up and ran to my room. I slammed my door and jumped into my bed, and tossed my blanket over my head. I wouldn't drive. They couldn't make me. I tried to calm my breathing. Slow deep breaths. The door opened, and the blankets were pulled from my head.

I looked over and opened my mouth to yell, but stopped. I grabbed Pierce and yanked him to me.
"Whoa!" He said, dropping the bag held and falling on top of me.

            My cast dug into my arm but I didn't care. Pierce just lay on me, pushing his forehead to my neck, and sniffing. We stayed like that for a while. Peirce and I have been best friends since kindergarten. He was my very own secret angel.

"I brought us something." He rolled off of me and grabbed the bag.

            It was doughnuts and milk. Thank God, my stomach was growling. I wolfed down three doughnuts, and drank my milk.

"What do you remember?" He took another bite of his doughnut.

            And as always, I told every single minuscule detail.

"I was at a stop light. I was listening to twenty one pilots, and went to change the song on my iPod, and everyone was screaming. The trunk hit the car next to the truck, and then one was coming for me." I grabbed his arm, "Someone grabbed me like this. I remember the smell of wood, glass breaking, and that's it."
"Did you see the person?"

"No." I shook my head. “But it was real.”

            He nodded, and took another bite of his doughnut. I admired how much he could eat.

"I have this dream every once in a while. Mom says it's PTSD." I reached for another doughnut. "She wants me to see someone about it. To talk it out."
"How do you feel about doing that?"
"If it'll help me get over these dreams then I think I want to give it a shot. These dreams are killing me. It's too real."

"I'll go with you if you want."
"Yeah?"
"Of course." He smiled, "I'd follow you anywhere."

            I smiled back and took a drink of my, milk. The door was knocked on and Dad came in.

He held his hands up, "No car talk. I promise."

"Come in." I nodded once.

"I wanted to take you to the mall to get you a new phone." He sat on the edge of my bed, "And a lap top."
"What happened to my lap top?" I asked, glancing at the place I usually kept it.
"You had it in the car with you. Don't you remember?"
I looked down at my doughnut, and shook my head.

"Well how about it?" Dad asked, trying for a cheery voice, "You coming along for the ride Pierce?"

"Yeah, I'm in. Solan?"
"Can I finish my doughnut first?"
Dad laughed, "Whenever you're ready honey."

            We watched him leave.

"Your parents are getting along." Peirce stated getting up.

"I know." I watched him walk over to my dresser.

"You need more clothes." He said, digging through my drawers. "You'll catch something and die. Where are all your long sleeved shirts?"
"I only have one. I need winter clothes."

            Every summer I donate my winter clothes to the shelter, and do the same with my summer clothes in the winter. That’s what I actually was doing before the crash. He grabbed a white shirt, a pair of jeans and my hoodie. I took them and when into my bathroom. I quickly got dressed and we headed to Southlake mall.

            Dad bought me a lap top and a phone. He gave me a new card and sent me and Peirce on our way. He had shopping of his own to do. The first thing I bought was a wallet. I had lost