A spluttering cough woke me from me sleep, if sleep is really the correct word to use. With how things have been for the last few months, any rest I've managed to get probably wouldn't even be classed as sleep - shallow, dreamless…More like resting my eyes than anything else; remaining constantly aware in case of moments like this.
My eyes opened quickly and my body reacted the same way it does every time: jerking forward out of its comfortable position in the plush seat at my sister's bedside and immediately searching for her beneath the covers. I saw her there - as soon as my eyes adjusted to the darkness - the same way I see her every night: curled up beneath the layers of blankets and duvets, her face buried in the pillow that her hand gripped tightly, loud coughs escaping from her lips. I knew she tried to hide it, tried to muffle the sound in that pillow so as not to stir me, but it never worked. It was always too loud, and I was always listening for it.
"Elle…Elle, wake up…" I whispered, gently placing my hand on her shaking shoulder and nudging slightly. With a sharp intake of breath, her head snapped to face me. Even with the lack of light, I could see how wide her eyes were, and even with the sound of her coughing - which she tried to cover yet again with her hand - I could hear how fast her heart was pounding. She'd been in a nightmare before I woke her. Nervously, I moved my hand round to her back and gave it a few light pats, and then after a few moments, the sputtering died down until there was only the sound of her heavy breathing.
"Are you okay now?" I asked, still keeping my voice a soft whisper. She nodded, redirecting her gaze down to the carpet.
"Yeah…Yeah, I'm fine…" she muttered. I knew that was a lie.
My sister had been sick for months now. It started small, just occasionally feeling dizzy and light-headed when I came to visit her, then the coughing started. She stayed in that condition for a while, it was nothing to really worry about…Then it all became so much worse so suddenly. She began vomiting up everything she ate, started having random seizures, collapsing at any given moment, and there were even times when she'd brought up clots of blood in her coughs. I'd been to every hospital I knew of, spoken to every doctor I could find, I even found a couple that specialize in our kind…But none of them can discover what this illness actually is…So here she is now, bedridden, hopeless, too weak to move and waiting to waste away…And here I am, always here by her side, waiting on her hand and foot and trying to convince her she'll make it through this…Though, I'm not entirely sure if that's true or not myself.
"Mommy?" a quiet voice squeaked from the door. When I looked over, I could just barely make out the head - covered in sleek, floppy dark hair - peeking around the side of the door. No doubt woken up by the coughing, as he is most nights.
"Mommy's fine, Sweetie…Go back to bed…" Elle said to her son, attempting to give him a soft smile which only just appeared weak and forced.
My nephew, barely walking and talking, and my niece who isn't even out of the crib yet - they were the ones who had it the worst. Their lives are only just starting and already they've lost their father, had to watch their mother suffer and now face the risk of losing her as well…
They never knew their father, and maybe that's a good thing. He was a horrible man: a user, and an abuser…He never laid a finger on Elle, apparently, and I do believe that…But there was a woman - a woman that I should be with right now - that he married, around the same time he was playing around with my sister. He'd given her bruises, broken bones, two children she hadn't agreed to…All because he'd wanted control.
But he'd always been like that…Always wanting to be in control, always wanting to be a leader - always had a twisted mind, even when he was a child.
