Perfect

Chapter Twenty Eight: Please don't freak out

" Follow your heart. . . No matter where it leads you."

               - Unknown

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Chapter Twenty Eight: Please don't freak out

Death.

People always told me I shouldn't know a lot about it. Not at fourteen. They said I shouldn't have known what it's like to loose your family. They say I shouldn't have known what it's like to have to smile and hug your way through a funeral. They said I shouldn't have known what it's like to be the only one left. But that was the problem. I did know. Yes, maybe I knew too young, but I still knew. And I knew then.

That day when I sat outside the hospitals ICU, just staring at the white wall in front of me. It'd been twenty minutes since I'd told them to turn to life support off. Eighteen minutes since the doctor had declared my grandmother dead. Ten minutes since I'd sat down.
Jayden had followed me out, but when he became aware I wasn't going to talk to him, he left me on my own. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, murmured something in my ear about a flight home and I hadn't see him since. In all honesty, having him around at that point was worse then being on my own. That's another problem with having to deal with death so young. People seemed to think I was scared. That I was fragile. And maybe I was. But there was nothing more patronising than being told that everything was going to be okay and that my family were now happy in the arms of God. That crying would only make me sadder. My mother's sister used to tell me just after my mother died that I shouldn't be selfish and mourn for the dead. I should be greatful that God saved me. Easier said then done. Don't get me wrong, I like God, got nothing against the guy, but it moments like that, I feel I get to be selfish. As awful as it sounds, I don't want them up in heaven in the arms of God. I want them down here, in my arms. Where I can hug them and love them and tell them I'm sorry.

A ball crashed into the chair beside me, jolting me out of my depressing thoughts. There was a small boy of about 6 standing a few feet away from me.

"Banjo!" Called a voice and a girl came racing round the corner, holding an even smaller boy by the hand. Her hair was dark and mess of curls, hanging down her back. Her eyes were brown and full of life, but the glare she gave the boy scared even me.

"I told you to bounce the ball outside! Go out near the courts! You know what the nurses think of you playing indoors!" The little boy looked between the ball and his sister. It was clear he wanted the ball and that he wanted to obey her. But the ball was by my feet and I was a stranger. Strangers were scary. "Banjo!" The girl said again.

With the brightest smile I could manage, I bent down and scooped up the ball. Then I bounced it over to him and he caught it in both of his hands, hugging it tightly to his chest. A tiny smile broke out across his face and then he was off, racing round the corner, bouncing the ball and letting off Indian War cries as he went. The other little boy, who must have been at least 2 and a half, wretched himself out of his sister's grip and went trotting down the hall after his brother, yelling something about mud pies.

"Nemo!" The girl yelled, but he was already gone. She let out a sigh and sent me a pretty smile. "Sorry." She said, "didn't mean to disturbe you." I waved her away.

"It's fine. I get it. Younger siblings." The girl turned her head towards me.

"You have brothers?"