Fighting Back

Chapter 9 - Katrina

Katrina's POV:

I sat there, watching the television with my parents, knitting a jumper for Noah. With every stitch I made a wish for him. What really annoyed me though was that I probably wouldn't be allowed to give this present to him.

With a long sigh, I stretched my back, relieving my back ache from hunching over so much. Hmm, I thought to myself. Pretty good work, Kat. The jumper was finally finished.

With a smile of rejoice, I stood up, trying to hide my art from mother and father. Well, they probably wouldn't have noticed me anyway, what with their eyes being transfixed on the screen. I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, all the while thinking of Noah, my baby brother.

I finally got to my room, laying my aching body down on the bed. The mattress was comfortable, the pillow fluffed up, and the sheets silky and smooth. I nearly went to sleep, I was so tired! Well, that wouldn't happen, I told myself, because I still had plenty to do before the day ended.

First, I had to sort out my outfit for tomorrow! You see, I was going out with my friends tomorrow, to the cinema.

Walking lazily towards my wardrobe, I picked out my skinny jeans, a plain white top and an over sized leafy green sweater. That would do.

I looked back at the jumper I had just finished. It was actually pretty good timing, that I finished it just now, 'cause I felt a bit bad. I must have made Noah feel terrible about my rock. And of course, father had to step in and 'save me' like he always does, by shouting at the poor boy. Really, I'd rather he just leave it alone.

I thought my brother might cheer up if he saw my gift.

Wait, what better time to give it to him than now, when my parents were downstairs? I quickly gathered the item of clothing before making my way to his room, which must have been at least a quarter the size of mine.

I knocked cautiously, before whispering, "Noah."

When there was no answer, I carefully pushed open his door. I knew he would be in here, because this was basically the only place he was allowed in the whole house. Whilst I was opening his door, I realised how much I would miss him after he left. My mother had told me that he only had 2 weeks left. What I hated was that I didn't even have enough time to get to know him. He came here at the beginning of the summer holidays, and school started about 2 days ago, so that must be about... 6 or 7 weeks?

Instantaneously, I realised the boy was not there. But he must be here. He must be... where... why would he be anywhere else?

I immediately shut the door and ran back to my room, tears springing to my eyes. I had not been good enough to him. I tried to fix his broken heart by being a nice sister, but I had failed.

There was no use in doubting it. Noah had obviously run away. He was a strong lad when he wanted to be, but he had never done something as drastic as this.

Curling up into a ball, I suddenly didn't feel like going out tomorrow. Maybe I would just stay at home. Or go on a long walk.

And in that moment I understood how Noah must have felt every day of his life.

Alone... lost... confused.