Chapter 4 Left alone

Alex Edwards sat in a dimly lit room, he was confined to a wheelchair, his once strong leg now useless beneath him. The words of the doctor, "You will never be able to work again." reverberated in his head; the news had shattered him and the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on him like a heavy, suffocating blank.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the scene playing out again and again. The car spins out of control, and the horrified faces of the couple in the other vehicle. An accident he has caused, even if it wasn't his fault.

The police are yet to give an update regarding who tampered with the brakes. Alex looked down at his motionless and lifeless leg; he felt a wave of despair washing over him. He felt hopeless without his legs, his future blank and without peace of mind. The wheelchair feels like a prison, a reminder of his failure.

Also, with the guilt in his heart whenever he remembers what he has done, the couple after finding out the lady's husband, lost his life and they lost their baby. It was unbearable for him; he couldn't eat or sleep. He tried to avoid not thinking about it; he tried to push the memories aside, but they were relentless, consuming him from the inside.

His maid stepped inside his room with a tray in her hand, "I told you I don't want to eat. Get out of my room." He yelled angrily.

The maid stood still trying to talk to him, giving him the reason why he needed to eat. "Sir, you haven't taken your drugs since you came back from the hospital, and the doctor said you need to eat and take your medication. Please, sir."

Alex frowns his face; he takes the glass that is beside his bed and throws it angrily at her. The maid didn't expect that from him; it was too late before she could dodge it, land on her face, and let the tray fall off her hand. She felt dizzy and noticed her head was bleeding.

She glares at him disdainfully, before walking out of the room.

"You are fired, I don't want to ever see you here. I don't want to eat, I want to die." He said coldly.

His room was littered with food. Another maid stepped inside to clear the room, but he didn't allow her. He yelled and cursed her, she couldn't hold the insults from her boss and she angrily walked out of the room.

The maids could understand what was happening, he was never so cold to them. But the accident has changed their master, making him unrecognisable. Alex has refused to shave his hair or beard. He looked tattered.

"What's going on," Mrs Isla questioned the maid when she saw her coming out of Alex's room.

"Ma, your son has refused to eat anything. I tried to help him clean his room but he yelled at me. He even injured Jane with a glass when she tried to talk to him." She said with a sad voice.

Mrs. Isla felt bad; she apologised to the maid and instructed her to get another tray of food for her. The maid did as instructed and came back after five minutes with another tray. She tilted her head as she handed the tray to Mrs. Isla.

She entered the room with her expression changing from crimson to a faint smile. She wouldn't want him to see the sadness in her face. She was hoping he would eat. She has watched him grow more withdrawn with each passing day, his once vibrating spirit dimming into something she couldn't recognise. The house itself has turned into a haunted ground as everyone was mindful of their words. The once excited atmosphere has turned into a mourning hall.

Alex was more respected than his brother, Christian Edwards; he was known to be friendly and respectful. He was someone who always listened to someone and gave solutions to problems. This was one of the reasons why most of the maids didn't blame him even when he cursed or vexed them.

Mrs. Isla walked towards his bed, "Alex, sweetheart. It's me, your mom. I came here with something delicious for you. You need to eat something; you haven't had a proper meal in days, and you need to take your medication."

Alex didn't respond, he stared ahead with an unfocused gaze at his mother. He was lost in his own torment. Mrs. Isla was at a loss for words; she felt like crying, but she held tight not to feel weak before her son.

She has always been able to fix things for her sons, to make their problems disappear with a kind word or with money, but this was different. This was something they couldn't solve with wealth or influence; they had tried everything possible, but all the doctors gave them the same statement about him not being able to walk again.

She wished they could find a solution but none has been brought or considered. She would lock herself in her room saying prayers for her son's recovery.

Mrs. Isla took a few steps forward to his bed, "Please, talk to me. I am your mother, you can't keep treating us like this. Take a look at yourself. Tell me what's going on in your head. We are your family, and we are here to help you." She pleads while moving to a seat close to him.

Alex tossed his gaze at her, his eyes filled with deep pain, "What the point, Mom? Why am I still alive? I should have died in the accident instead of suffering like this. Look at me, I can't walk, or I can't go out to do the things I love." He said with his voice barely above a whisper.

She placed the tray on the table beside his bed, and she tried to hold his hand, but he pulled away, his expression mixed. "Alex, you don't have to say that. It's not your fault, you don't have to blame yourself for what happened. You know that. The brakes were tampered with; someone did this to you, and you're just a victim. The police will find justice for you and the family involved." She said with a shaky voice.

Alex shook his head in disapproval; he couldn't bear it within him. He wished death would come and take him. But do you think death is cruel? Why would he want to die when he can create something for himself? Having a disability is not the end of the world.