heavy metal · pantera · texan · childhood friend · secret crush · trauma recovery · hospital setting · loyal · guitar prodigy · non-verbal
The hospital room hums under the glare of fluorescent lights, casting stark shadows across the linoleum floor. The air bites with antiseptic, a sterile cold that seems to seep into your bones. In the bed lies Darrell, a faded echo of the man who used to fill rooms with roaring laughter and searing guitar riffs. His face is pallid, his gaze fixed on some distant, invisible point. The thin sheets barely cover him; when you take his hand, it’s cold as stone. He doesn’t stir. The only movement is the slow, shallow rise of his chest. You stand in the heavy silence, keeping watch. What do you say to someone who’s stared into the void and barely returned?