DEVIL: A Stepbrother Romance (4 page)

I
t’s
hard to say how long I was surrounded by dark. Maybe it was 5 minutes, maybe it was 10. I recall the distinct sound of hissing in the background and a repeated sound of clicking, very similar to my left turn signal going off over and over again. But everything else was dark.

And then suddenly, both of the noises were gone, and I felt weightless and standing in an expanse of white light. It was strange when I think about it. I didn’t even try to look at my body and never even saw my hands. It was like I was just an entity floating along, fully aware that I didn’t have a body to occupy.

I looked around, but on each side of me there was nothing but white, and the only direction that I could move was forward. Ahead of me was white as well, even brighter than the white that I was surrounded by already. But something inside was reluctant to move.

I was dead.

I hadn’t forgot what had happened to me just a few moments ago, and while I didn’t feel completely whole or conscious, it seemed very apparent to me that the event had cost me my life.

For a few moments, I assessed the situation and felt a sharp pain of guilt engulf me. I never had the chance to say goodbye to my family, and I wouldn’t be having sex with Sam the next day. That wasn’t all; I had missed out on a lot during my short time on earth– even making the Seahawks.

I never had the chance to do anything impressive in my life. Being a benchwarmer and getting average grades in school didn’t seem like much of an accomplishment. I had only had my car for a day. Hell, I had only been with a woman a couple times in my life, and they were mediocre experiences. I was the guy who would never be remembered for anything. What had been the purpose of my pointless, unexceptional life?

I tried to sigh, but there was no sound. I guess you can’t sigh when you’re dead... I still felt it though. That release of frustration and guilt and “I-wish-things-had-been-different” feeling. All I could think about was how I wanted to go back and do everything over–to try harder, to work hard, and be the man that I should’ve been to begin with.

Why did I think that I had all the time in the world?

Eventually, I accepted the situation and took a single step forward towards the strange hallway that led to a brighter light.

“So you want a second chance at life, huh?”
a deep, sizzling voice spoke out to me.

“Who is this?” I asked, startled at the first sound that I had heard since reaching the strange place.

“Do you want a second chance or not?”
This time the voice was much harsher.

“Yes, I would love a second chance, but–”

“I… can give you a chance,”
the voice interrupted.

“Who are you?” I spun in circles, but all I saw was white.

“
I have been given many fictitious names, Mitch Ryker. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan. But I want you to consider me your mentor and your partner
.
Names are not important.”

“Satan?” I tried to chuckle, but there was no sound. “What kind of shit is this?”

“Good… good. I like for you to question things, Mitch. This “shit,” however, is your opportunity to live.”

“So, you’re saying that you’ll bring me back to life?”

“I won’t just bring you back to life, Mitch. I’ll bring you back to life and give you the tools to live a lifestyle that you’ve never even dreamed. I’ll make all your fantasies come true and then some.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“But why me? Why not someone else?”

The voice made a noise akin to a sigh. “
If that’s how you feel, simply walk forward and ignore my proposition. There are others…”

“Wait. Maybe I’m asking the wrong questions.”

“Yes…”

“If you do this for me, what’s in it for you?”

The voice laughed, a frightening deep laugh.
“Now do you see why I chose you? You’re smart. You’re smarter than you think you are. There’s a certain stipulation that you must agree to if I’m to give you this gift.”

“What’s the stipulation?”

“It’s easy… A relatively tiny tradeoff. A small sacrifice you’ll have to make. I’m sure you’ll find it worth your while.”

“Specifics?”

“If I return your soul to Earth, I’ll give you the drive to become the man that you always could’ve been. Driven, handsome, powerful. With a little motivation, you can have anything you’ve ever wanted. And with all these gifts, you will be desired– Oh, how you will be desired by so many. BUT NO… You cannot have that eternal love. In fact, I compel you to break the heart of every single woman you encounter who truly desires your heart.”

“You want me break women’s hearts? Why?”

“Now I’m getting sick of your questions.”
The voice snapped.
“But I will tell you this: In this world there is a balance that must be had. If I’m giving you so much that is good, there must be something else that is bad to counter it. Without the bad that comes with the good there would not be balance.”

“That’s all? Break women’s hearts? Nothing else?”

“It’s simple right?”
The voice laughed again.

“I know that I want to live. I know that I want a second chance. I want to see Sam and my family again.”

“I can make that happen. If you want to live, turn around and tell me that you accept my gift, and realize that our agreement is unbreakable. Tell me that you will comply. If you’re unsure or think that it’s too much, simply go forward and accept your fate as it is.”

I paused for a moment to consider if I was making the right choice. It didn’t take long. I had no idea what was ahead of me, but there was a path behind me that was clear and desirable. I wanted to live and see the people that I cared for the most again. And with the promises that I was being offered, I couldn’t see “no” as being an option.

I turned around and looked at the white nothingness that was in front of me. “I accept your gift. I will comply.”

“Good…”

Within an instant, the white began to pixelate, and the frame around me began to fall out into a shadowy black. Then the black began to brighten, sending me toward another bright, white light. But now I could hear something different. There was a beeping noise in the background and a pillow beneath my head.

I could feel pain. Lots and lots of pain. My body was there again, and I was aching everywhere. Everywhere except for my hand.

A tiny frail hand was holding on to mine, and there I could feel the slightest of comfort.

I squeezed it, and it made me feel alive again.

“
C
an you hear me Mitch
?” the doctor asked. If you can’t move your head just wiggle your finger once for yes and twice for no.

Mitch nodded slightly and then a low groan seeped through his bandaged lips.

Mom and Dad let out a few weak laughs in excitement and Mom started crying again. This time it was tears of joy. Somehow, Mitch was alive.

“Wow…” Doctor Wallace said. His eyes were wide and he placed his hands on the side of his head. “I’m… I’m shocked. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen someone come back from death that like that. It’s pretty much a miracle.”

The nurses in the room seemed even more shocked than him at the events that took place. One of them made an invisible cross sign with her hands and started talking to the sky. They had officially deemed Mitch as deceased, but he managed to fight his way back on his own.

I was overjoyed, but at the same time, my happiness was dampened by numbness. The night had been an emotional rollercoaster ride that had sent me from shock to fear to sadness and then shock again. My tank was empty, and I felt like I was going to pass out if there were any more surprises.

“Well, I’m sure you guys are thrilled, but Mitch is going to need to stay in the hospital for a while so that we can monitor his vitals. Hopefully, the worst is over, but we need to keep a close eye on him until he gets his basic functions back. You should all go home and get some rest.”

Dad lifted his arm for a handshake. “Thank you so much Dr. Wallace. We appreciate everything you’ve done for Mitch.”

“Of course. And don’t thank me… I did what I could, but Mitch is something else. Not many people would be able to survive all the trauma he’s been through.”

I navigated back towards the bed and placed my hand on top of Mitch’s again, leaving my parents to continue their conversation with the doctor. “Hang in there Mitch,” I whispered. “I can’t wait for you to get back home.”

Mitch’s head slowly rotated towards me, and through the slit in his bandages, I could see one of his eye’s open just slightly. He stared at me for a moment and then closed his eye again. I could have sworn I could see the muscles of his mouth form into a smile, but it was really hard to say with all the bandages.

“C’mon baby, let’s head home,” my Mom said and tilted her head in a signal towards the door. “Let’s give Mitch some rest and try to catch up on some sleep ourselves. You can skip school tomorrow if you want.”

Soon, we were walking back through the front door of our home, and I headed upstairs towards my room. “Goodnight mom. Goodnight Dad.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

When I reached the top of the stairs, I started down the short hallway that lead to my room, and stopped at the door directly across from mine. It had been ages since I had been in Mitch’s room and he strictly forbade me from going in there when he wasn’t around, but that night something compelled me to go inside anyway.

Even knowing that Mitch was in the hospital, I still feel a bit of fear wash over me as I pushed the door open and flipped on the light switch.

His room was relatively clean, save for the cream colored comforter that which was strung across his bed and an open can of soda that was sitting on his computer desk. All of his furniture was set in plain, neutral colors, which was a good parallel to his own personality. Neutral, pure, but lacking something that I couldn’t put my finger on.

Hanging on his wall was his football helmet and jersey, number 21, a tight end for the Kingston Strongbacks. Mitch was far from being their star player, but it was the one thing that he made very clear that he loved, and he was always talking football or watching it whenever he wasn’t playing. When he first started playing, he always went on and on about how he’d play for the Seahawk’s someday.

On his desk was also his Macbook Pro and a framed picture of him with his girlfriend Sam. I lifted the picture and studied her. Sam was a good looking girl, long slim legs, blue eyes, a beautiful smile, and luscious, long brown hair. Mitch seemed to have lucked out, and it appeared that he knew it as he was smiling widely in the picture. My stomach turned at the thought that she might break up with him once she found out about the accident.

As I was sitting the picture down, I noticed the corner of a thick piece of paper was poking out from behind the picture frame, and I tapped it on the edge of the desk a couple times to dislodge it further. When I pulled the picture out, I noticed that it was a photo of Mitch and I when we were children. We were both sitting in a kiddie pool and Mitch was teaching me how to blow bubbles. The picture had to have been at least 13 years old, but I still remember that day like it was yesterday. He was my best friend at the time.

I smiled and was about to put the picture back behind the frame when I noticed that there was writing on the back.

“Annie Crimson, best sister ever!”

Directly beneath the words line a hand drawn heart. I let out an exasperated sigh and sat down on his bed while I looked at the picture more.

I wasn’t sure when Mitch had written those words, but I also wasn’t sure if I had really been the best sister ever. I hadn’t been going his games to support him lately, and other than football, I really wasn’t even sure what other interests he had.

I slid the picture back up into the frame and made a mental note learn more about him whenever he came home–if he actually made it home.

As I sat the picture frame back down, the motion must have stirred his Macbook out of it’s sleep as the screen lit up in front of me. It was opened to his Facebook page, and his top post read “This year I
will
make it into the starting lineup.”

I thought back to what the doctor had told dad.
He’d never set foot on the football field again.
The idea made me feel horrible. Even if Mitch did make it back home, he was going to be stripped of one of the few things that he loved. I glanced back at Sam’s picture. And if she didn’t accept him in his dilapidated state, maybe even two things.