The candle burned bright next to her papers, they were scattered among the glass table. The room was dimly lit as she sat there, staring at a photo. "Please call back... please" she'd rasp, her voice cracking from the brink of a mental break. The phone in her small, thin hands lit up, an ocean with a pod of orcas swimming around was the background. She pulled up her contacts, only one was labeled. Her hands shaken as she pressed "call" the woman's breathing quieted down to that of a sleeping infant as the small hum of the phone rang. "Please, pick up..." The phone went bright as it continued to voice-mail. "Fucking damnit! Why won't y-you p-ic-pick up your phone!?" The smartphone flew across the room, and cracked against her wall with a sudden "thud". "Why did you leave me all alone?" The woman pulled her knees up to her chin in the soft computer chair, as she started sobbing like a sarcastic maniac. "W-why..." a paper floated gracefully to the floor, flipping once as it brushed against her ankle. "Why did you have to leave me here, brother? You said you'd be home in an hour, and it has been a week..."
The next morning, the woman was asleep, her cheek pushed against her desk and her eyelids snapped open. Her hair was twirled about. A light knock tapped on her door. "Honey..." a long pause followed. "We need to get ready... for..." "go away... he isn't gone!".. the door squeaked as it was started to open. "But the doctors say he-he is b-" "I don't fucking care! He will wake up! And he will be okay!" The woman stood up from her desk, throwing her chair back. Looking at the large figure in the doorway. Tears starting to stream as her legs turned to rubber and she felt faint. "I don't care what they say. My brother isn't gone..."
