The Fall of the Aftons

120: Evan Afton

"Evi?" Someone gently shook Evan's shoulder, waking him up. "Are you awake?"

Evan whined, not wanting to get up, and buried his face in his arms. He felt horrible. He was exhausted. His head and chest hurt, he had an awful cough, he could barely breathe out of his congested and runny nose, his throat was sore, he was super dizzy, and he felt like he was about to throw up. He didn't want to do anything.

There was a sad sigh that came from behind him before someone picked him up from Michael's desk chair.

"Mmnh," Evan moaned exhaustedly, looking up to see Michael's face. "Guh... Good morning," he mumbled tiredly, his voice raspy and barely audible.

"Good morning," Michael said worriedly. "Are you feeling any better? You don't look like you're feeling good at all."

"No..." He buried his face in Michael's shoulder. "I feel terrible."

Michael sighed. "I know. I don't know why this is hitting you so hard. Usually, your immune system is as strong as a rock, but now it's as weak as an underdone flapjack. I hope you'll feel better soon so we can all return to school."

Suddenly, the sound of their father screaming and their sister sobbing uncontrollably downstairs rang throughout the house. That's not good. Michael put Evan down and the two of them sprinted through the hallway, down the stairs, through the second-floor hallway, down the next staircase, and into the kitchen.

"Evan, go call 9-1-1!" Michael demanded immediately, pointing to the phone. "Ambulance to 636 Plymouth Avenue, Hurricane, Utah; fatal allergy to chocolate--go!"

Evan sprinted to the phone and dialed 9-1-1, watching Michael dig through the medication container for one of her EpiPens as he waited for an emergency responder to answer the question.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" a responder on the other line said.

"H-Hi, uh, my sister is having an allergic reaction--we need an ambulance sent to 636 Plymouth Avenue, Hurricane, Utah!" Evan tried to shout, knowing his voice wasn't easy to hear because of his flu. "H-H-Her name is Elizabeth Robin Wh-Whittaker Afton. M-My br-brother is working on giving her an EpiPen. We need an ambulance sent here n-now!"

"You said that your address is 636 Plymouth Avenue in Hurricane, Utah, correct?" the responder clarified.

"Y-Y-Yes, m-ma'am."

"An ambulance is on their way right now. How old is your sister? What did she consume that triggered the allergic reaction?"

"U-Uh, she's f-f-four years o-old, and she's deathly allergic to chocolate and ba-bananas."

"She consumed chocolate!" Michael shouted as he injected the EpiPen into Elizabeth's thigh before holding her close. "And tell the responder about her flu and asthma!"

"My brother says that sh-she ate chocolate--he also said to tell you that she h-has the f-flu right now and that she has asthma," Evan said.

"Okay. That's very important to know, so thank you."

"How much longer till the ambulance gets here?" Michael asked, Beth on his hip as he dug in the medication cabinet for something.

"H-How much longer until the ambulance gets here?" Evan asked nervously, noticing that Beth was barely breathing. "Her inhaler is in the living room by the nebulizer," he told his brother.

"Bloody hell, I forgot that," Michael grumbled as he ran off. 

About twenty minutes later, Michael, Evan, and Daddy were all waiting outside the hall of Elizabeth's hospital room. Evan was sitting on the wooden bench outside of the door while Michael paced in a small circle, talking to himself. Daddy just stood close to the door, anxiously chewing on his thumb. 

"Wait," Michael said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. He turned to face Daddy. "Beth was eating breakfast when she started having her reaction. Right?"

"Yes, I was," Daddy mumbled. "I stepped away to get the pancakes I made for all of you, but I heard her start wheezing, so I looked back at her only to see rashes on her face."

"If she was at the table, how did she get her hands on chocolate? She already knows that she's not allowed to have anything with chocolate because it'll make her sick."

Daddy's face morphed into one of fear. "She... She refused to drink her milk like Evan used to when he was a baby. So I figured that I would make her some chocolate milk so she would drink it."

Michael sighed. "She doesn't like milk. She hates the taste of it--won't even drink it in cereal." He stilled for a moment when he realized something. "Wait. Why did you make her chocolate milk if she's allergic to chocolate?"

"I didn't know that she's allergic to chocolate," Daddy explained, starting to get irritated.

"How did you not know that she's allergic to chocolate?!" Michael snapped, anger filling his voice. "You were with us at the hospital after she had her first allergic reaction! You were with us when the doctors told us about her allergy! So how did you not know that she's allergic to chocolate?"

"Well, I guess that I forgot!"

"HOW DO YOU FORGET YOUR DAUGHTER'S MOST FATAL FUCKING ALLERGY?!" he screamed lividly.

Evan whimpered, scared of his brother and the loud noise. He started crying when Daddy and Michael started fighting, shouting and screaming at each other. Out of all of the times that they could start fighting, they chose now? They were just waiting for Elizabeth to be okay, and then they could leave this miserable place.

Suddenly, William stormed off, leaving Michael and Evan alone. Michael sighed long and hard, grumbling something under his breath before he sat down next to Evan.

"I'm so sorry that you had to see that," Michael said softly, his voice sad. He lifted Evan onto his lap and wiped tears from his cheeks.

Evan tried to respond, but he couldn't get the words out. It was too hard to breathe to speak. So he nodded his head instead, acknowledging his brother's apology.

Michael's expression morphed into one of worry. "Are you feeling okay?"

Evan shakes his head, flinching when Michael suddenly grabs his hands. Michael inspected them for a few seconds, then stood up extremely fast, carrying Evan on his hip. He shifted Evan in his arms, running down the hallway to the nurses' station, shouting for help.