Page 2 of We May Be Fractured

“Aarie”—Aunt Olivia called him by his nickname—“both good and bad things happen in life. You can’t avoid it. And running away from what you can’t face won’t lead you anywhere. This kind of race is not one you can win.”

Those words echoed ones he’d heard in that haunting hospital room three years ago. If Aaron closed his eyes, he could still smell the sharp scent of disinfectant mingling with the delicate aroma of flowers.

His phone chimed with the upbeat tune of the Super Mario theme song, the quirky sound clashing with the tension of the moment. Aaron ignored it and turned to look Aunt Olivia in the eyes. They were as dark as his, but they didn’t hold the same shadows.

“It’s all right,” he reassured her. “You’ve already said it. This trip will be good for me.”

She gave a small, hesitant nod, her wrinkled forehead betraying her scepticism. “I only want you to be happy.”

Aaron abruptly rose to his feet. “Happy or not, I’m still here. Isn’t that enough?”

“Aarie, what matters is having a purpose, a direction. You can’t drift like a twig in the stream. It’s fine to feel lost at times, but remember, you have the strength to swim through the current. I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again. There is more to life than just living.”

Aaron lifted his bag, only to set it back down on the bed. He unzipped it and rummaged through its contents, blatantly dodging an all-too-familiar conversation, one that cut too close.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Aunt Olivia’s concern. She’d been a solid rock when the world had crumbled around him after the accident. But there were places in his pain she couldn’t reach, dark corners he hoped she’d never have to see.

The phone’s persistent ringing flirted with Aaron’s last nerve, tempting him to throw it out the window.

“I’ll let you crack on with your packing,” his aunt said quietly, standing up. She handed him a small notebook.

Aaron took it, a bit hesitant. The dark, leathery cover had loads of tiny constellations embossed on it, arranged in a pattern painfully familiar. He hovered a thumb over the stars but stopped short.

“Early birthday present,” she explained. “You’re always doodling on books and scraps of paper. Figured it’d be nice to have a proper notebook to draw all the wild animals you’ll see, the scenery, and the Lights…”

Aaron held the little notebook but didn’t open it, unsure if he’d ever use it. “Thank you.”

“Remember to call now and then, okay?” Aunt Olivia added, and then she was gone.

Aaron chucked the notebook into his bag and zipped it up. Adjusting the shoulder strap, he looked around the room one last time.

Here, unlike at his parents’, he’d been able to plaster the walls with posters of his favourite bands, films, and snaps of Australia. But even with all his personal touches, the room never really screamed ‘Aaron’.

Just a house. Never a home.

Aaron wandered over to the shelf above his desk that held the green book. The sun’s slanted rays illustrated the spine and the title, Peter Pan . Below the words, a cascade of tiny golden stars sparkled.

When he first picked up that book, the embossed stars on the cover had a pleasing, comforting texture beneath his fingers. Now, he imagined they’d burn like scorching hot metal.

Whispers from the past buzzed in his ears, dragging him back to that bloody hospital room.

“This is for you, Aarie.” Tori had spoken with laboured breaths, pointing to a flat, rectangular package on the bed. “Things in life don’t always go as planned. But it doesn’t mean you can’t move forward. If you ever feel stuck or lost…try to look in here to find your way home.”

But Aaron never opened that damn book.

He didn’t want to remember the happy times he and Tori had spent reading it together or the sound of their joyful laughter that he couldn’t bring back anymore. He was worried that, instead of pointing him anywhere, the book would remind him of a happiness that was out of reach now.

Ever since his sister left, Aaron had lost a reference point on the map of life.

So, he’d decided to shoot off to the other side of the world, placing oceans and continents between his past and present. And like Peter Pan, he’d fly towards his Neverland, even if no happy thoughts were driving him. Only a desperate need for something different. Anything different.

He hesitated, his gaze locked on the book. Part of him longed to grab it, but the other was repulsed. The pendant around his neck throbbed against his skin, its weight both a burden and a comfort.

His phone, ringing non-stop, yanked him back, dragging him from a vortex of feelings and ‘what could have been’ thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to lose himself in the past. Tomorrow was waving him over, hinting at a new beginning.

He had to get moving. Life, as he’d painfully learned, waited for no one. It marched on, even as personal worlds crumbled. And it was high time he marched with it.

Stepping away from the desk, Aaron pulled out his still-ringing phone.

“I’m ready.” He straightened his posture. “Wait for me.”