✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

44: Hollow

ARI.

I celebrated the start of the new year in a hospital room. No fireworks, no fancy dresses, no champagne and certainly no romantic kisses at midnight. Instead, my ass was plopped on a chair, a bowl of store-bought mashed potatoes on my lap, and my eyes glued to the television screen. As I tried not to drool over One Direction's performance on Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve, my sister sat on the other side of the hospital bed, helping our mother eat her dinner.

"Oh look," Mia gasped, brandishing out her phone towards myself and our mom, "it's midnight! Happy New Years!"

"Happy New Years, anak," mom spoke, voice low, but lacked the weakness it had been laced with for so long. Her health seemed to be getting better, and for that I was thankful.

(translation: child)

"New Years," I mumbled, scooping out a huge spoonful of potatoes before shoving it into my mouth. I felt the atmosphere in the room turn colder than the already freezing temperature outside. I could feel a piercing stare burning into my skull with intensity hotter than the devil's asshole. Annoyingly, I rolled my eyes over to the right where the coldness was harboring.

Mia was sitting on the chair with her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, and an expression on her face that clearly told me she did not approve of my behavior. It's been like this for the last few days. Her temper was growing shorter by the hour and every little thing I did royally bothered her. I didn't blame her though, I have been morbidly emo lately. But I didn't blame myself either - it seemed like my life was falling through the cracks and there was nothing I could do to catch the pieces.

"Do you have a problem, Ate?" My tone was condescending, I'd admit that and I probably shouldn't have been disrespectful but I was over it. I just didn't feel like trying anymore.

(translation: older sister)

"Could you at least pretend to be positive?" Mia retorted.

"I am being positive," I started with a scoff, causing Mia to once again lift an eyebrow, "positively gloomy."

"Ugh, you're being incredibly immature Ari," Mia tossed the bowl in her hand aside. "God! You're not the only one suffering here! You act like you're the only one with problems. Quit victimizing yourself and grow the fùck up! Luke isn't going to wake up if all you're doing is being a privative asswipe!"

By this time Mia was standing from the chair, absolutely fuming. Her shoulders heaved up and down with emphasis, and the death glare she gave me was cold enough to start the next ice age.

"I'm being immature," I chuckled, clearly amused by her prior statement, "if anyone is being childish it's you! For keeping your head in the clouds and your mind in a fairytale. Life is shit right now and life is going to continue to treat you like shit. So get your pretentious, positivity-is-key," I air-quoted, imitating Mia's voice, "mindset out of your ass and you grow the fùck up!"

I snatched my backpack off of the floor, jerking the chair at the same time. It collided against the wall with a loud thud, perfect for my oh-so dramatic exit. I didn't even have the patience to kiss my mother a goodbye; I had to get out of that room and out of the vicinity of my stupid, perfect sister. Slinging the straps over my shoulder, I flung open the hospital room door and walked out of the room.

"Ugh," I grunted to myself, capturing the attention of a passing nurse. I ignored whatever judgmental look she gave me and stormed down the corridor towards the elevators. As I did however, the sound of heavy Doc Martens to linoleum filled my ears. A new aura radiated around me like needles to the skin, and I had no choice but to turn around.