Fearless Beings

Chapter 4

Tom's POV
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    "Oh my God!" A scream cuts through my dream. I humble out of bed and rush downstairs to see who is it.

   Karen is talking on the phone, tears streaming down her face as she paces across the living room. I give her a worried look. She tries to smile but fails miserably as she fall on her knees.

   "I'll be there in five minutes," she says and hangs up.

   "Wha-" I start.

   "It's your sister, Hannah. She's sick, Tom. We need to go to the hospital right now," she says, speaking frantically. Her eyes hold nothing more than terror.

   I nod. "I'm going to drop you at the hospital and go back for James."

   "Okay, pick him up from school and come back, yeah?" She throws her purse on her arms as I starts the engine of the car.

   "Yes, yes. Now let's go."

    "What's wrong?" James ask from the back seat of the car.

   "Hannah is a bit sick, buddy. But don't worry about her, okay?" I say.

   The moment I opened room 128 for Karen, I felt my head spin. Her face as awfully pale, her hair matted to her forehead, her lips colorless and dry. She looked . . . dead. And I swear if it wasn't for the biventricular pace maker beside her hospital bed, I would have thought she's a corpse.

   My eyes well up as James says, "She's not fine, is she?"

    I look at him from the mirror. "Why would you say that?"

   "Why would you lie?" He retaliate. I press my lips in hard line.

   "No, she's okay. You'll see for yourself."

   The rest of the ride stays silent, and I'm glad for it.

   I take James' small hand in mine as we walk toward room 128. He pushes the doorknob down and runs beside Hannah.

    Karen tells him not to talk too much because his sister is exhausted. He sits on the floor and studies Hannah, as if trying to memorize her inch by inch. I sigh and sit on the chair between Karen and Dad's.

   "How is she?" I whisper to Dad, making sure that James can't hear me.

   "I don't know, Son. I think she's going to make it, this is what the doctor said. I'm sure she will, I mean, look at her, she isn't that bad, right?" He lies.

   That's what we do, nowadays. We lie and pray silently that it's the truth. It's as if if we lied too much, it would turn out to be the truth. We just have to repeat the same lie over and over and over.

    "Yeah, she's going to be alright."

    "Mum?" Hannah's voice rings in the silent room, a mere whisper. We scurry off toward her bed as she opens her eyes a fraction.

    "Shhh, honey, relax," Karen soothes.

   "I feel like eating a piece of doughnut," Hannah says, making us laugh a bit.

    I lean down to kiss her forehead. She smiles before taking my hand and squeezing it.

   She coughs violently as our eyes widen in horror.

   "Doctor!" Dad calls. "Shit."
 
   Hannah had been suffering for six months from Hemoptysis. It grew on her, eating her alive. She has been coughing and spitting blood from her lungs and throat. It's usually either from the lungs only or the throat, but she has the two.