Hurricane - The Greatest Showman ~ Anne X Phillip {Sequel to B R O K E N; free}

When

Anne's POV:

"Uh, yeah I'm fine. How are you?" I lied. He looked at me skeptically but answered anyway.

"Uh, I'm good. What brings you here? Come in." He motions towards his humble apartment and steps aside.

"I, um, I came to talk to you." I let out with a faintly audible, yet deep sigh. He turned around as he shut the door, giving me a curious look.

"About?" I sighed and sat down on his charming green couch. I sighed deeply and shut my eyes as I wiped my sweating palms on my pants yet again. When I opened my eyes I saw my brother staring at me with the most curiosity I have ever seen.

Probably something close to a kitten seeing a vibrant rainbow for the first time, confused and a little scared.

"You might...wanna sit down for this." I say, getting a concerned look from him. He sat down next to me, and angled himself towards me. I stayed staring forward. "I have a lot that I need to tell you." I say, finally glancing over at him. He didn't talk or ask any questions, he just waited for me to continue. "Oh god, where do I start?" I say, sighing and rubbing my temple gently.

Should I say what's easiest or should I start from the beginning? Well where is the beginning exactly? He won't listen if I open with "I was raped most every day of my life for six years when I was fourteen." But what do I start with?

"Ok. When I tell you this, I need you to remain calm." He looked at me nervously and nodded and said nothing. "Please don't interrupt me, because there's a lot I need to say. I'll let you know when I'm done, because chance are, you'll have absolutely no idea." He furrowed his eyebrows, but reluctantly nodded again.

"Ok. Let's see. I think the first thing that I should say is...I'm pregnant." His eyes widened and he smiled a bit. I heard a little, what seemed to be, an extremely muffled squeal. He's such a dork. I chuckled but my smile quickly faded.

"But..." I had to choose which direction I should go with this. Should I talk about the diagnoses yet, or the fact that I don't know if the baby's Phillip's? "I um...while I was at the doctor, I found out some other...stuff too."

His smiled faded. I think he knew the other news wasn't good.

"I was diagnosed with um...clinical depression," he inhaled sharply, "and clinical...insanity." I say, struggling to get that much out. He looked upset, but he was taking, at least this much, fairly well.

"Are you ok?" He asked, concern and muffled sadness in his voice. I didn't give him an answer. I looked back up and replied.

"I'm not done." His face crossed with severe sadness for a moment. But WD being WD, trying his best to be strong, wiped it off almost as instantly as it had come on. He cleared his throat.
"...ok." I looked back staring at the rug in front of me while I played with my hands.

"I also have a rare form of...HIV. It's known as -N? I think? I dunno. I don't really remember. By then I kind of stopped listening to all the things that were wrong with me." I sniffled a little and wiped a tear that had escaped, swiftly away.

"Understandable." He said, hiding the pain in his voice. "Wait...how did you get HIV?" He wasn't ready. He wasn't. I don't know if he'll ever be. But he sure isn't now. I looked over at him, a face of sheer sadness and desperation was spread across my face like someone put it there neatly with a butter knife. He wasn't getting it. I mean, why would he?