All the Slivers of Red

Chapter 7

I lay on my bed, thinking about nothing, and everything, at the same time. The thought of Linny pops up again, and I suddenly think about all my experiences I've had with her.

The first thing I remember of Linny is when I was four, and Linny was three. I was playing on my hospital bed when I heard a piercing scream come from nearby. Even at that age, I knew it had to be coming from a kid-it was really high pitched. I wiggled off my bed and peeked through the small window. Across the hallway, I saw a tiny girl with bright orange hair being carried into the room opposite me, screaming bloody murder. Then they shut her door, and her cries were muffled.

The next thing I remember was two years after that. I remember crying as we drove to the hospital for one of my check-ups. I think I was crying because I was so lonely. I couldn't have any good friends, because half the time, I was in the hospital, or staying home, and if I was at school, I couldn't participate in most of the normal activities and games. When we walked into the waiting room, I saw the same girl, Linny, playing on the carpet. I sat down by her, tears still on my face, and started pushing a toy car back and forth, when she looked at me. Then she reached out and hugged me.

She looked embarrassed. "When I cry, I want people to hug me, so I thought that maybe you wanted a hug, too." She paused and smiled. "I'm Linny! I have sticky cell disease!"

"Oh. Hi. My name is Hunter. I have sickle cell disease, too."

Linny gasped, "We should be best friends then!"

I smiled, and we have been friends ever since.

I see flashes of us through the years: Linny showing off her ballet in a therapy room; me and her painting a giant mural on paper, to hang up over the hospital doors; Linny laughing after Sarah's comedy routine; and when we were planting in our garden box, we laughed and had a dirt fight.

Then there's also all the bad memories, when we were in so much pain we could barely breathe, much less talk. When I was twelve, I tried taking hydroxyurea, a drug that was supposed to reduce the occlusions. But a week after I started taking it, I had a stomachache. Even though I didn't want to eat dinner, I still had to go to the table. It was a rule in our house that we still had to sit at the table and have "family time." My stomach pain increased as I walked to the kitchen, until I couldn't stand it anymore. I stumbled to a chair and gripped the back, trying not to scream. It felt like burning knives were cutting across my stomach, and then my back, a fire spreading wherever it went. I don't remember making any sound as my knees buckled and everything went black from the pain.

After that, I have a memory of white interrupted by Linny's concerned yet mischievous face hovering over me. I heard something outside the door, "...adverse reaction...a few more days...at least he's not in the ICU..." before the blackness returned again.

I was finally woken up when Sarah was bustling around our room. She smiled when I opened my eyes, but didn't say anything. Linny and I talked, but were interrupted when Linny kept having coughing fits. The next day, Linny was gone. I asked Sarah, and she said that Linny had been taken to the ICU in the middle of the night because she had acute chest syndrome caused by pneumonia. She stayed in the ICU for three weeks-two weeks longer than I was there.

Overall, Linny was always happy and optimistic. I don't know if I will ever get used to her not being here. I don't know if she will be able to get used to it either.