The Tears Of The Fallen

1

Faida's pov

I have lost almost everything. Martha is all I have left. We have been through hell and back. I will never forget how she helped me in our darkest time. She was the closest person to me. I never had any friends. I just try my best to get through the day. School was the hardest part of it though. No one understands me. Martha was the only one. I just wish Mom and Dad were here to see us. I wonder if they would be proud of us. Martha works so hard to make sure I'm happy. I try my best to do the same, but she is normally at one of her jobs. I wish that I was as good of a person as her. She is so beautiful. She always seems to have friends. Ones who are willing to do anything for her.

I wonder how the future looks from here. It seems so far away. Does it have a happy ending? Does it seem fitting for me? Will be as good as I hope? I have so many questions. I just don't have as many answers as I would like. Why does reality have to be as tough as it is? Why can't it be like a fairy tale? A story at least? Most books have a happy ending. Why can't real life be like that? I just wished that I could be free from it's harmful chains. I wish I had wings. One's that we're big and strong. I want wings that could take me any where I wanted to go. I want to be free. I mean, birds are free. Clouds are too. There are so many things that are free. Why can't I be one of them?

I laid on my back as I began to think on the subject. My thoughts grew from there, but they always rounded back to the same subject. My mind was stuck on a loop. I wish I had the answers to that question. Then I could stop thinking about. Would I though, or would I just keep making excuses? Does this topic have a end to it's questions? Am I just going to keep asking questions? I am stuck. As I began to scream, begging in my mind for something to pull me out of my thoughts so I could stop staring at the same old ceiling. This happens a lot. If I have too many questions and not enough answers, I just stare at the same thing. Becoming aware of myself until something pulls me out of my thoughts.

As rip myself from them, I begin to sit up. My purple walls, closing me in from the outside world. The same ones from so long ago. These walls have watched me for years. If they could talk, what kind of story would they tell? Stop thinking. I break myself from over thinking again as I walk to my door. I open it and make my way down the stairs. I've counted each step as I went down. It was like a game I like to play with myself. I have counted and remembered every step, but yet I still count. The reason, I have no clue. Guess it was to keep my sanity in check. I walk past the same old living room, and into my same old kitchen. I opened my same old white fridge with the same old Chinese food delivery menu on the fridge.

I then pull out my leftovers from last night. My noodles with rice on the side. The same old order. I walk to the black microwave that rests on the counter, waiting to be used again. I open the microwave door, put my food in, and put a time on it's timer. I then closed the door once more, then pushing start. Same old process. Nothing has changed since Martha starting working full time. She left the normal twenty bucks on the counter for dinner, it still resting there. She then allows me to pocket the left over money for savings. I've gotten so used to this process, that I have a one track mind, everything planned out from the get go.

Everything seemed so normal. I just wished that I wasn't always alone. That's when my thoughts run wild and I begin to think too much. It's hard to breathe when it happens. I just freeze. The world seems to stop in front of me. I can't move along with it but I'm still conscious. It's like a curse. My thoughts drown me. Stop thinking. I tell myself this, so I can focus. If I begin to be drowned by thoughts for to long, I begin to have a anxiety attack. I can't process too many thoughts at once. It's too hard for me to do. It's one of the reasons I don't have friends. Kids will get freaked out by me. None of the even try to listen to my explanation. They just run away. Just because I'm not a normal person.

I jump at the sudden sound of the microwave beeping away. I sigh in relief as I opened it and pull out my food, setting it out on the counter. I then grab a fork, closed the microwave, and dug in. Once I was done and cleaned up, I moved to the couch. I then grab the TV remote that laid on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Again this was apart of my normal routine. As I scrolled through the channels I hear the faint sound of the house phone ringing. Curious I turn off the TV and walk over to it. I pulled the the phone from it's hanging spot on the wall, holding it up to my ear. "Hello?" I say in a confused tone of voice. "Hello is this Faida's Rone?" A woman asked from the other end.

"Yes it is. Who is this?" I ask. How did she know my name? "I am sad to inform you that there was a car crash that involved your older sister Martha. She is currently at Westville hospital." She said. Her voice laced with a small bit of sadness. I froze, not knowing what to do. After a minute, I feel a question pop into my mind. "Who was the other person who was involved in the car crash." I could feel the shadows on my face growing by he second. "A teen who is now dead. His name was Argo Morrock." The lady stated. I took a deep breath. "Thank you for the information." I said and quickly hung up.

I could feel a single tear spill unconsciously fall from my left eye. I place two fingers at the bottom of my eye to make sure I was not mistaken. No doubt, there was a tear. My hands formed fists as I thought of what could happen. I need to get to the hospital. I could feel my legs move as I dashed out the door. The hospital was not too far from my house, so since I didn't have any other way I ran. I ran as fast as I could. My legs began to hurt half way there but I didn't care. It was hard to catch my breath, but I didn't care. I just need to get there. I could see the hospital entrance as I bursted through the doors. "I need to know where Martha Rone's room is." I stated to the receptionist. "I'm sorry but she can't take any visitors right now." She the lady said. I ran my hand through my brown hair. I was now beginning to feel how exhausted I actually was as I sat down in the waiting room.

I ran at least 5 miles, but I didn't care. All I care about is if Martha will be ok. I swear if she dies, I don't know if I could go on. She is all I got left. She is the most important thing in this world to me....the world would never be the same