Year 6 (First Draft) #Wattys2016

-Chapter 43-

  Kane's arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. He rests his head on mine, and we sit in silence for what seems like an eternity. My parents are gone. As much as I am hurting, the thought has yet to fully embed itself in my mind. Part of me finds this all too surreal, and yet here I am, a broken mess. Kane raises his head, and I look up too, ignoring the tears stinging my eyes.

   "I don't know what to say," Kane says quietly, his voice soft and soothing. In this moment, he could ramble nonsense and just the fact that he was talking would comfort me. "I just wish there was something I could do."

   I pull my blanket up around us more, and adjust my pillow. Neither of us is cold, and neither of us could possibly sleep, but the comfort of the bed, and the feel of the soft blanket aids my frazzled nerves. I close my eyes for a moment, envisioning my parents. The last time I saw them was at the Social Gathering, and I can see my mother in her dress, and my father in his tailored suit. My stomach feels like a twisted rag; all substance being removed. I feel my throat tighten, and a new wave of tears threatens to choke me. Kane's arms tighten, and I hear the stutter in his normally even breathing. He is mourning more for my sake than his own, but I am grateful nonetheless. Being in this alone would be too much. But I soon remember I am not alone. I bolt up, looking at Kane, ignoring the startled look in his eyes at my sudden movement.

   "What about Paul?" I ask, my voice no more than a whisper. Kane's eyebrows draw together, and I can see that the pertinent question slipped his mind too. "Did the News mention him?"

   "I don't recall..." He says, fading off. He pulls a small device out of his pocket, but I don't get a good enough look to identify it. He touches the screen only three times before shaking his head. "Paul isn't even mentioned once."

   I try not to let too much hope slip into my words. "Then is it possible my brother is alive?"

   Kane nods, putting the device back in his pocket. "I'd say there's a high probability. If they had hurt Paul, they would have made sure you knew about it.

   I try not to let my hopes up fully, but I can feel the warmth of optimism spreading through my chest, replacing my sorrow. Kane looks at me, his eyes swollen from tears of his own, and I pull his head down to the crook of my neck.

   "I am so sorry," I say, and this time my tears are for him. "Ever since I have come into your life, things have gone downhill. I tried to turn you in, I have brought all of my baggage onto you. And that isn't fair. I should have thought of you and-" Kane's finger is pressed against my lips, and I stop talking, knowing I was rambling on anyway.

   "My life is a series of ups and downs," Kane says, pulling back to look me in the eyes. "Sometimes, there's a lot of ups, and the ride down feels harder than ever. And sometimes, I am so far down, that getting back up is the most elating thing in the world. But, since you have been here, the ride has been relatively safe. Not too high, not too low. Checks and balances," Kane says, again showing his selflessness. "And I don't want you to ever think that you have put me through trouble. You may be a pain in the neck at times, but you are a wonderful, beautiful, and intelligent girl who I am so happy to know and be able to trust."

   I feel tears spill onto my cheeks, but I no longer care. Kane's arms are comforting, and I press my face against his chest, not caring if his shirt gets a little damp from my tears. In all of my years of life, even before I was on the street, I never felt like anyone fully cared about me. My mom and dad did, in their own way. They loved me, but they didn't make an effort to spend as much time with me as they could have. They were faced with a complex moral decision. Spend time with the daughter you know you will lose, knowing it will make losing her harder, or be more distant, knowing you will regret it when she isn't around. My parents fell in the middle of the two extremes, and I can't say I blame them, although now I feel that I would have loved to have had better memories of them to hold onto.