It was just barely two in the morning when I got the call from my grandma. At first I just sat in bed staring up at the ceiling, wasting time away. The news she'd just told me hadn't come as expected and honestly, I was more than surprised it hadn't happened earlier. After 15 minutes of remaining in a zoned out state of denial and got out of bed.
I didn't bother with a shower, instead choosing to slip on black sweatpants, a grey long sleeved shirt, and my favorite Moccasin booties. Slipping my keys and phone in my pockets, I went into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth and hair before heading downstairs quietly. Thankfully, as I exited the house I hadn't made enough noise to wake Scar up. I would just call her when I got to the hospital.
***
Home. A place of laughter, comfort, good memories, happiness, love, and warmth. My home could once be described as such but now nothing of the sort. I was born and raised in a little town in north California. It wasn't a place full of laughter, comfort, love, happiness, or warmth. It was a cold, dead place with sad memories, bad people, and bad luck.
As I drove through the empty streets, I observed the ever familiar buildings and shops all lined up side by side. It was barely the beginning of fall and the trees were already bare with the leaves creating a brown carpet on the sides of the road. The sky was dark, sun barely shining. The place was dead and so was everything around it.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Emergency Room of the building close to almost five in the morning. I stepped out of the car and into the chili air, shivering as I walked to the front.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Allister Allen, he was just admitted," I greeted the lady behind the counter who looked just about ready to shoot herself in the practically empty room.
"What is your relationship to him?" She asked me, typing things on her computer.
"He's my brother" I replied, slipping my glasses onto my face.
"He's in room 139, down the hall, to the left, the room should be on your right," She directed me.
I didn't even thank her as I walked off. I wasn't in the mood to be all chit chatty and neither was she so why not just skip the unnecessary formalities. I followed the directions the lady had given me and found the right room. It was empty but an unconscious body that lay still on the stale, white bed. The teenage boy that occupied the bed looked just as I'd remembered him only thinner and paler.
I moved closer to the bed and took a seat on the right side in a seat next to the window. I stared at the boy that I called brother. Sighing in frustration, I took in his overgrown and uncombed inky black hair that was two shades darker than mine, his long dark eyelashes that I'd always been jealous of framed his would be hazel eyes and curled up. I brought my hand up and ran it down his thin, limp arm that was so translucent I could see the dark blue veins that ran down them. I jumped slightly when I felt him twitch. I lifted up my eyes and was met with his gleaming hazel eyes. I smiled softly at him.
"Hey bro, what's up?" I asked casually, trying to lighten up the dense mood.
"Nothing much, kind of overdosed. You know the usual with us rebellious pot heads," He replied, not joking one bit.
"Why am I not surprised?" I half-joked to him. "I decided something though."
"I'm grounded for life and forbidden to ever go outside even for school?" He asked sarcastically.
"Not quite. It's something better. Something you asked me before I left," I told him. He looked pretty confused and frowned, creating the deep V that I hated seeing.
