Good Luck Anna

Pep Talk

    No more than an hour later the front door opens, Alex's anxious voice rings out calling my name. I know I should let him know that I'm alive, but my throat is so raw it's impossible. When my door swings open, I grip the duvet to my head having no desire to see the worry that I've caused my brother or letting him see absolute state of me.

   His hand lands on my head, softly rubbing, "Anna, can you please come out." Shaking it Alex lets out a long breath before scooping me up covers and all, holding me on his lap slowly rocking us like I'm a baby. It would be funny if I wasn't so devastated.

   Alex continues silently rocking me while I cry, he knows that it's pointless to make me talk when things get this bad, so he just waits until I'm ready.

   It doesn't take long for the distance to become too great, so I burrow out of the covers and into Alex's arms. This seems to relax him too, the way he soothingly runs his hand through my hair almost sends me directly to sleep. He used to do this after I had a nightmare when we were little, if only what happened today was just that.

   With each blink my eyes close for longer, normally I'd fight sleep but the need to stop the whispers of useless floating through my head is greater, so I just give in, drifting off in a cloud of Alex's aftershave.

   My last thought before I slipped into unconsciousness was, I wish that I could do something like this to help him sleep.

   When I finally come to, it's to a pounding headache and a hollow pain of an old festering wound in my chest. Alex must have closed the curtains since I'm currently in darkness. Flicking on the bedside lamp, while desperately trying to not think of the last time I was called that awful word.

   My head thumps again, a groan leaving my lips at the thought of exiting this cozy bed, searching for the phone to message Alex when my eyes land on the glass of water and painkillers next to my bed.

   I could cry tears of joy that angel knew I would need these when I got up so sorted it ahead of time.

   Before inevitably crying into my brothers shoulder, I deal with the two messages from Becca demanding to know if I'm alive or dead. I debate telling her about what happened, knowing that it's hockey practice today and I love her too much to be the cause of her getting expelled for mangling Emma's face.

   In the end, deciding its safer to just give her the CliffsNotes version, she can know everything else once she is far enough away that I can calm her down before she goes into attack mode.

   Whilst I wait for what will be an expletive filled response, I answer Thomas's couple of messages he is just talking shit about one of his pompous class mates but it comes as a welcome distraction. No point in telling him now when he still has two hours of school to go, we will have a rant later tonight.

   For now, though I need to talk to the one person who will understand why today fucked me up so horribly. Becca has already responded and when the three of the first four words are swears, a small smile pulls at my lips she really is a great friend.

    The text to Alex has barely been sent when my door opens, stretching out my arms he perches on the edge of my bed, wrapping his arms around me warming the cold, hollow ache inside my chest.

    He keeps a tight grip until I can get the courage to speak, "did the school tattle on me?"

  "Nah, I gave Billy my number in case anything weird happened and 'Miss Thomson arriving home hysterically crying' was weird to him, thank fuck he did. What happened dragonfly, are you able to tell me?"

  Subconsciously touching the necklace he gave me, using it for the strength I will need to get through this conversation in one piece. When that's not enough to get my mouth to work I grab for Alex's hands squeezing them so hard that I'm definitely cutting off circulation.