I've wondered why storms are named after people. Storms are these explosions of rain, and wind. If you're lucky, you'll even get snow.
The point is, is that we name them. Why give something so destructive, so ruthless, a name? Are they deserving of a name?
Yet, I could say the same for humans. Except we are worse than storms, because we explode a lot easier, and a lot more frequently. So I guess I'm a hypocrite for saying that storms don't deserve names. Because if they're named, then that can only mean that they were bad.
That's what was happening to me. I was a storm that was named Andria. Except this storm has been raging on for a whole ten years, and had no intentions of lightening up.
I ended up falling asleep on the couch. I didn't know that I had fallen asleep until I was woken up by Dad.
"Andi, wake up," I hear him say. I turn over and open my eyes at the sound of his voice. "C'mon. Get your shoes on. James woke up."
I snap my head in his direction, now fully awake. "Really?" I ask in a raspy voice. "What...?" I then trail off.
"I know. But we need to go," He urged. I glance at the clock and saw that it read 2:40 a.m.
"Grandma stayed at the hospital with him." Dad said on the car ride there, after I had put shoes on.
"Is Autumn there?" I ask as I look over at him. He nodded his head slightly.
"Poor girl. She's going through so much right now." He states quietly. He takes a pause for a breath and then switches the subject. "So where were you? After school, I mean."
"With Liam." I say hesitantly. "And Elise. We went out for ice cream, sorry, I should've told you." I tell him. It doesn't count as a lie if there was some truth sprinkled in there.
"So, this Liam kid?" Dad then asks skeptically.
"He's a friend Dad," I tell him clearly. At least that's what I thought. I wasn't exactly sure what we were anymore.
"How long till he's not a friend," I heard him say under his breath as he pulls into a parking spot.
I ignore his comment and get out of the car. When I walk through the hospital doors, I feel this coldness come over me, which is funny because the room is kept at a comfortable temperature.
But just because the temperature is at a nice 75 degrees, that doesn't change the fact that many have died behind these walls. Many had shed tears due to that death of their loved one. However, new life is born here. New smiles, and also tears. But tears of immense joy instead of immense sadness.
Hospitals are an oxymoron. So much good happens here, yet so much bad also. There was no in between with hospitals.
We walk into James's room and see him lying there with his eyes half open. He still looked tired, but he also looked alive, which is all that I could ask for.
However his eyes were glossed over and it was almost as if he wasn't really there. James looks towards my way and gives me a half smile and mumbles a "Hi."
"He's knocked up on medicine, and the impact did some damage-"
"I know." I say softly interrupting him. I didn't need to hear it again. I pulled up a chair next to my brother and sat beside him.
"Hey, James." I start quietly. "It's me. You really need to get better because your the only one that can keep me grounded. You're also the one that I can annoy and argue with, but all of that can wait." I chuckle.
He slowly moves his hand and puts it on top of mine. I grab his hand and squeeze onto it as it I was giving him some of my life.
"Once he's off all the medicine, he'll be more comprehensive." Dad says as he puts a hand on my shoulder. "The nurse said the only thing that he'll have trouble with is memory and focusing."
James gives me a weak smile, making me laugh the type of laugh you laugh when haven't laughed in a long time.
