I Write Sins Not Tragedies (A Collection of Short Stories)

Just Pretend {ONE}

There was just something undeniably heart wrenching about spending my evenings curled up in a hospital bed beside my eight-year-old sister. Less than five years ago we were racing one another across orchards in the cold, brisk mid-October night to pick pumpkins to carve for Halloween. Now we were lucky if Angie was able to even sit upright.

Her diagnosis had come just after I graduated high school three and a half years ago, and the prognosis that she was steadily declining followed not long after. I watched my lively, gap toothed, silly baby sister become the shell of the happy girl she once was in months-and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I worked two jobs on top of attending night classes at the local college in order to help our parents pay the hospital bills, but even with three incomes combined, it was becoming harder and harder for them to keep up with the payments.

And the visits.

Even on three hours of sleep most nights, I made sure to swing by the hospital to visit Angie every afternoon. It'd become a routine, and I knew without a doubt when the day came that I'd have to stop, I would feel lost.

As I walked down the hall, a black cat bucket full of activities and candy in one hand, and a stuffed pumpkin in the other, my sister's favorite Nurse, Serenity, offered me a tight smile and wave. I returned the look with a quirked brow, not sure how to feel about the expression, but she was called over by one of the other staff members before I could question it. I knocked gently on my sister's door, announcing my arrival, then stepped in, halting to a sudden stop when I saw Angie sitting completely upright unsupported, her eyes trained on the lavender curtains in front of the windows.

"That's just Andie." my sister's hoarse voice filled the spacious room as I closed the door behind me and crossed the small space to her on the bed.

"Hey, Ang." I greeted, handing her the gifts. She set them on the bed to her left, but her eyes didn't move from where she was staring intently at the curtains.

I lowered myself into the uncomfortable chair with an exhausted, sigh, raking my finger through my bangs in an attempt to keep them out of my eyes. Once I'd slumped back against the stiff pillow to my back, I followed my sister's gaze and asked, "Who are you talking to?"

Every once and a while the staff would invite someone to come in and speak with the kids, but we were always alerted, and there was most definitely nobody in the room right now.

"You don't see him?" Angie asked, prying her pretty blue eyes from the window and taking in my confused look. "He's right there. He's sitting on the floor in front of the window."

A bit shaken by the comment, I moved from the chair to the edge of her hospital bed and touched a hand to her forehead to be sure she wasn't running a fever. "No, Ang. I don't see anyone."

"He's right there!" she threw both her arms out in a gesture toward the bottom of the curtains. There was nothing there but a small waste bin. "He's been telling me stories all day!"

It'd been so long since I'd seen Angie this alert and excited that I played into whatever it was she was trying to do and smiled, asking, "What kind of stories?"

"About other kids like me." she answered with a giggle. "He says he knows a lot."

"Kids like you?"

Angie nodded, "Yes, sick kids." The way she said it, she may as well have added a "duh" at the end of the sentence.

"Oh." I breathed, retraining my eyes on the window once more, feeling my skin starting to crawl just the slightest.

I observed in silence.

Angie rested her head against my chest and hugged the pumpkin to her chest, but her eyes never wavered from that spot, her lips moving at lightning speed as she spoke to the invisible man she was insistent was in the room with us. The entire situation had every hair on my body standing up, but I knew better than to try and pry any more information out of her. She was happy for the time being, and I was going to bask in that for as long as possible. This was a good day for her, and she had far less of those lately.

I waited until Serenity had come in to switch out her IV and gave me the nod that visiting hours were up to stand. I stretched my arms behind my head and yawned before I leaned down and pulled my sister's blanket up to her chin.

"You going to be okay tonight?" I asked her.

She smiled. "Yeah."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." I extended my hand to her and she wrapped her small, frail pinky around my own. I leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead, then her cheek. "Love you, Angel."

Her eyes fluttered against her sunken in, ashen cheeks as she whispered, "I love you too, Andie."

Once I was sure she was dozing, I slipped out of the room and scanned the surrounding area for Serenity. When I didn't see her, I moved to the nurses station and found her behind a stack of paperwork. She peeked over a file and eyed me with a curious glance, "Hello, Andrea. Can I help you with something?"

"Did you guys change Angie's medication?"

Her interested in the topic had her joining me on the other side of the desk. "I don't believe so. Why are you asking?"

"When I came in tonight, she was talking to someone." I explained, making a gesture back toward the room. "Someone that I couldn't see. Did she have any other visitors today?"

"Nope. You were the only one."

I crossed my arms slowly and asked, "Do you think it's a side effect of one of the medications?"

"It's possible." Serenity answered, touching a hand to the bobby pin in her dark hair. "It's also not uncommon for the kids to create imaginary friends. Someone to talk to. It gets kind of lonely in there all alone, you know?"

I nodded. Hmm. That made sense, though Angie told me everything, and this was the first I'd ever heard of this. "You might be on to something. Please just keep an extra eye on her, please?"

"Of course, Andrea. You better get home, though. There's supposed to be a storm rolling in and I'd hate for you to get caught in it."

I offered her a wave and slowed by my sister's door, peeking in to check by the window one last time, before I shook my head and continued to the elevators.

The cold from the eerie afternoon with my sister followed me into the night, furling a knot in the pit of my stomach. There was already a light drizzle, and I hurried across the lot to my car, relieved when I was in the warmth and shelter of my old sedan. I turned my key in the ignition for a moment, contemplating calling my parents and asking if Angie had mentioned anything about this boy to them, but ultimately decided against it. They already had enough on their plate, and my sister's new imaginary friend was surely nothing to burden them about.

Right?