Sirius, on his knees, wipes up vomit off the wooden floor.
"You alright, buddy?"
He scratches behind the elderly ears of his dog. Being a French Bulldog, his face has always been crinkled... Though in recent years, his age has begun poking through. The dog's health has been declining since the tumor formed. But despite his age and condition, the ancient dog always acts so youthful.
The dog has been the boy's closest friend for years. Through all the repetitive days, whenever he's at his mother's house, the dog is always there to make him feel a little better. A little something.
The dog is one of his mother's random gifts. When Sirius was seven years old, a little over ten years ago, she had brought the dog home in a small shoebox. It stands today as the cutest thing the boy has ever seen.
Sirius finishes cleaning, washes his hands, and heads back into his room.
Hours pass in what seems a minute... Mindlessly scrolling through old texts on his phone, he is devoid of any gratification.
Suddenly, his mom creaks open the door.
The dim light from the hallway seeps into his room. She seems saddened, more than usual at least. Her silhouette stands in the doorway, shaking. While she wears a smile, it's clear what anguish she hides.
"Hey honey," her trembling hand rests on the doorframe. "I... think it's time." Her voice is carpeted with sorrow.
...
Sirius, Canopus, the dog, and their mother all enter the small car. It's a silent drive with no radio, only the songs of the city sweeping past. Labored breaths exhaust from the tired hound. The boy's hand brushes against its rough fur.
This is the last drive with him...
...
The waiting room is quiet.
The haggard dog rests in Sirius's arms, strained breaths shifting the canine up and down. The buzzing of grainy ceiling lights is the only thing the boy focuses on. While a tragic scene awaits, he can't help but distract himself. He has never been good at these kinds of moments.
His emotions have been out of tune for so long, that the imminent death of his best friend doesn't register. A lady walks into the room and calls for the family to enter.
The lady explains the details of the injection. She has already given the dog others to put him in a state of calm. He rests relaxed, slow breaths expelling rhythmically... Glazed eyes stare at the family he loves.
The dog, while it had a simple one, enjoyed his long life with them.
Sirius and his mother hold the dog's front paws. Canopus balls himself into the corner... he doesn't want to watch. Another one of his beloved is going to die.
...
With a simple injection, the dog's eyelids fall over its damp pupils.
His breathing slows until the open room is filled with nothing but strained silence. The heart of the loyal companion ceases its march.
And with a final expulsion of breath, the dog's life fades from the room.
The quiet whimpers of his mother and brother drub Sirius's ears. Tears pour out of their saddened ducts. Sirius's eyes remain on the lifeless husk of his friend.
No tears form, no limbs tremble... He remains as still as his friend.
...
The drive home is once again filled with nothing but sniffles breaking the silence.
Sirius stares out the window, watching the world fly by. No thoughts plague his mind.
None at all.
His mother turns her head toward him. She's been doing it the whole car ride, but Sirius has been avoiding her gaze the whole time.
"It's..."
-Don't say it...
"It's okay to cry, Sirius."
Her own tears muffle the words. She had said the same thing after his grandfather passed.
Sirius hangs his head to the bottom of the car floor and nods it silently. He knows it. He wants to cry. He desperately wants to. He hasn't cried in years.
-Why... Why won't you cry, me?
His null emotions only cause him to degrade himself further. All he can feel is a rising anger. His mother's cries and following words are dissolved into numbing static.
...
...
Sirius no longer wakes up to a tongue on his cheek.
Still, the days remain stagnant, if not slightly bleaker. The relentless march of time carries him through the days.
The household's atmosphere doesn't differ apart from a more prominent melancholy. His mother and brother haven't spoken a peep of their departed member.
Nothing ever changes.
The act never finishes.
Nights have become worse without the snoring of his friend. The nights are quieter. Lonelier.
Day after day the same events play out...
And it always ends with him staring at the ceiling.
*****
Glass shatters.
It comes from downstairs.
The mother is in the kitchen, she's dropped a bottle on the floor. A pool of wine lies with shattered glass floating in its midst.
She calls over to Canopus: "Oh honey, could you go get the broom and a rag?" Canopus jogs over and stares at the wine on the floor, motionless. His mother's head darts from side to side, "Go get the broom and a rag!" Canopus snaps out of his trance and runs off to find the objects.
Sirius, with nothing better to do, sneaks down the stairs to check what's happened. His mom immediately calls out to him: "Oh Sirius, honey, could you go run to the store and get me some more wine?"
"I don't think I can legally buy wine."
"Shit... You're right," she ponders a moment. "Go get me an energy drink or grape juice then."
"Alright," he almost chuckles. "Something to do I suppose..."
"Thank youuuu! Love youuuu!"
"Yeah, yeah..."
His mother has always loved wine, or- maybe love isn't the right word. She drinks it almost every day, whether habit or obsession. Amplified even more so by the recent events.
Sirius throws on a jacket and as he ties his shoes, his brother passes him with the broom and a rag. Canopus glares at him, disdain emitting from every ocular muscle.
-I swear this kid is a super villain.
Sirius flips a coin on whether to walk or drive there.
Tails tells him to walk, which has the bonus of it taking longer. Anything out of the normal routine is exciting. The night brings a chill, but it feels nice.
He enters a convenience store a couple of blocks down and stands between the energy drinks and grape juice. They just so happen to be conveniently placed beside each other. He struggles to decide which one to take.
-Energy drink or grape juice...?
Such is the burden of choice. He contemplates for a solid minute, garnering the stare of an employee. Unable to choose, he grabs both an energy drink and a bottle of grape juice.
He's always been indecisive.
Leaving the store, he spots his friends from school walking together, laughing. A deep sense of longing stabs his heart. A craving of something more than himself. A desire buried deep within his mind. That something that might be able to free him from his self-inflicted torment.
Connection.
A connection with others. Or someone. Long has he hoped for a day he could feel it. When he sees couples holding hands, it inflicts an aching in his chest. When he sees friends bantering, it makes him fall deeper in his void.
But he will never strive for that connection. People are too unpredictable, people are temporary, people are liars... Besides, he believes himself unfit for such salvation.
As they approach, Sirius pulls out one of his many habits, and looks downward. He stares at his shadow as he walks. The group pass by and don't notice he's there. Sirius remains quiet and proceeds to the street crossing.
He doesn't bother waiting for the signal, no cars are around. While crossing the street, he continues stalking his shadow.
Suddenly, the plastic bag he's carrying tears apart. The grape juice and energy drink fall out of the sack.
-At least it wasn't wine...
Bending down to pick up the drinks, Sirius is illuminated by headlights.
He peers in the direction of the beams, only to realize their breakneck approach. Instinctively, he starts to scramble away, but slips over the energy drink can, crashing onto the asphalt.
Desperately trying to stand, his body is slammed into headlights. Glass splinters and plunges through his fractured arm. His body ragdolls and the world falls sideways. He is pinned to the floor, and in an instant, his lungs are crushed under the weight of a barreling truck. Vivid colors zip by and his bleeding ears rupture with the sound of concaving ribs. Shock alone numbs the pain.
But only for a moment.
The back tires unfold a second assault. His left arm snaps backward and his torso indents further inward. His legs twist to opposite sides as tire prints embed themselves onto his mangled clothing and skin. The pain is sharp, agonizing. Metallic scents storm his nostrils, not from the truck... but from himself.
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A pool of blood lies with shattered glass floating in its midst.
Sirius grudgingly raises his head; it feels so heavy on his twisted neck. He stares at his mutilated middle half, dumbfounded. A thick liquid trickles from the corners of his lips. Waves of panic wash over, but not from the sight...
He can't breathe.
Gasping for any morsel of air is met with failure.
It all starts going black.
-Am I dying? It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
Barrages of faint lights and sounds overwhelm his senses. Everything grows cold, despite lying in a puddle of warmth. His frantic thoughts thin out into blank silence...
His head falls back onto the red-stained road.
The boy closes his eyes.