The white beams of light in the hallway hit against the walls, giving the corridors a chance to mask itself with its bright looks even though gloomy news were being told ever second. The hospital smelled like a store or a new car. Nurses were dressed in the shade of sky blue while doctors wore lab coats that were the colors of white and grey mixed in with one another.
I was trying to catch up with my parents who were walking quicker than usual. My mother’s eyes were puffy from all of that crying in the car and my father’s expression had worried written all over it with his lips pinched and his eyebrows scrunched together.
My father suddenly stopped before a wooden door with a rectangular window pasted on the upper right side of the tall entrance. He looked down at a piece of paper. “This is it.” He said as he reached for the metal door knob and turned it.
Lying on the hospital bed was my younger sister Quinn Stevens.
Who am I, you ask? Well, I can proudly say that I am Laura Stevens, the daughter of Lucas and Anna Stevens. I always was fond of perfect things. It’s why I like math so much. You see, with creative writing or philosophy, there are dozens of answers. With math, you either get it right or you either get it wrong. When you get that one correct answer that means you did your work flawlessly. I can also be a bit stubborn. If I want something, I intend to get it. Admitting that I can’t do or complete my goal would be like the problem is bigger than me and I would have to fail. And I hated failing. I should be nothing but correct.
Who is Quinn? I always despised her. She was two years younger than me and always acted as if she was the better one of us. It was never fair when it came to her. I was the smarter one. I was the older one. Yet, who did my mother spend all of her time with? Quinn. It was because she was ‘younger’ that she got all the things she wanted. Whenever Quinn did something bad, my mother would always get angry at me.
I remembered the time when she came into my room to borrow a sharpener and I let her take it. It was a big mistake. She took it to school and broke it. I had every right to be angry and disgusted but my mother told me to take it easy on her. Did it matter to her that I got in trouble at school for asking my friend that I needed to borrow her sharpener during a test? The teacher thought I was cheating.
I could also recall that a month ago, while I was watching a movie, she pleaded and begged to watch with me and. I was unable hear what the characters of the movie were saying because of her racket so I allowed her. Twenty minutes later, my mother barged in. She said the Quinn had a test to study for that she failed last time. Who got in trouble? I did, because my mother thinks that she’s an angel who got distracted because of me.
I snapped out of those flash backs. Quinn was lying down with a breathing mask and heavy electronics at her side. One of them showed a black screen which had a glowing green line that zig-zagged. Every time the line appeared and disappeared, which all happened in about two seconds, a beep would sound. Beep. Beep. Beep.
My mother took one look at her ‘precious’ daughter and she looked as if she was going to sob again. My father looked like he was going cry too, which I have never seen before.
The door opened and a doctor with way too much hair gel on his head spilled in the room with a clip board.
“Is she getting better?” my father asked.
The doctor sighed. “First of all, why did you bring the other sibling?” He said, nodding his head towards me.
“Laura is part of our family. She deserves to stay.” My father argued.
