Mess You Made

39.

Miguel.

I hear my own breathing first. Loud, as if against my own ears and then I strain, attempting to open my eyes. My gaze is a blur and I don't— feel right. Body feels detached from myself and the room's spinning strangely. I panic at the feeling, as if I've lost control of my own body.

A hand on my shoulder guides me back down and I strain again, fighting to open my eyes, to stop them from rolling back into unconsciousness.

"They gave you sedatives, Miguel."

It's Roman's voice again.

"You'll feel strange— allow it to happen."

I grunt in pain, shaking my head because I don't want to be drugged. I don't like the feeling. My entire body's reacting in a panic that I can't settle at all, overcoming me quickly. I don't want it.

I hear a couple voices above my head like the sound of doctor's and I force my gaze to flit open, head falling limp sideways to find Roman's eyes. I keep my gaze on his, clinging to someone familiar. He looks down at me, his eyes steady, "You're safe. I wouldn't let them drug you if it wasn't safe."

I don't like it. I don't like not being in control of my own body. The panic doesn't settle at all and I can hear the beep of the machine pick up along with my breathing until my chest's heaving. Doctors start to work then, pushing a syringe into my IV and I feel a cold rush of liquid in my arms. The room starts to slow. My breathing deepens. The voices around me begin to fade until my vision falls away again.

"I hate him."

I sit quietly on the edge of Luca's bed, blinking a few times as I watch him rummage around in his closet. I swing my legs and look down at my feet, stretching them. New socks mama bought us, and we're matching blue.

Luca throws something around.

I look up to him as he pulls his head out of his closet and his hair's all messy, and sometimes Lu gets a bit moody. Mama said to always be gentler with him when he gets moody — and he isn't moody all the time, only when things really annoy him. Then, sometimes, he doesn't listen to mama properly. I don't get annoyed with the same things he gets annoyed at, but mama said that's just because brothers can be different.

He's frowning before he catches my eye. Then he stands in front of me, still in his pajamas. His black hair's sticking up everywhere and his brows are all bunched together the way they go when he's not happy.

I don't know what to do so I hold out my ice cream, "Want some—"

"He's mean." Luca says, and he's in his own world, even if I try to get him out, "He's mean to mama, we should be mean to him back."

I shake my head, say it quietly, "Mama says we shouldn't go near him anymore."

He was nice at first, really nice. I liked him a lot and sometimes, he still is nice but then Luca stopped liking him at all. He started hating when anyone even said his name, and I didn't really know why because we both liked when Seth would buy us ice-creams with mama. I thought we both liked him. He's been around us for a while now. And me and Luc— we do everything together, so once he started feeling different, I had to feel different.

When I heard him shouting at our mama the first time in the living room, then I realised why Luca had stopped liking him. I don't know what went wrong. Why he wasn't nice anymore, and now he doesn't come around that much but he still comes sometimes. I think mama just tries to get rid of him all the time now.