“Hi, honey, I’m home,” I called out, throwing my purse on the ground. All I wanted was something to eat, perhaps a roll in a hay, and a hot shower. I went into the living room where Matt was staring at the television. Though he had it on the Sox game, he wasn’t really watching. “You hungry? I’m going to order a pizza. You want in?” No answer. “Hey, Matt, what’s wrong?” No sooner did the words leave my lips then I knew. “Oh, Matt. It’s not Shawn, is it? He’s not…worse, is he?”
“He’s dead,” Matt said, his voice empty. “He flat-lined while I was there late this afternoon.”
“Oh, baby,” I said, pizza forgotten. I sat next to him and put my arms around him, wishing desperately I could take the pain away. Again, I didn’t say anything as I knew there was nothing to say.
“He was only fifteen, Scar. Fifteen! What the hell am I doing?” Matt’s voice cracked on the last word, and that broke the floodgates. Putting his head in his hands, he started sobbing. I rocked him back and forth best I could, my own eyes filling with tears. “I saw him die, Scar. I can’t fucking take this any more.”