I am Loved

I am loved episode 3

    In a short 4 weeks, I was discharged from the hospital. I was oddly excited. My mind kept reminding me that they weren't my family. Maybe that was a good thing. They could be so much better than my family.
As I recalled Kia had an older sister 2 years older than us. What was her name again? Konanē? I giggled to myself. No that couldn't be it. Konanē was the name of a Hawaiian board game similar to chess or checkers. I doubted that anyone would name their firstborn daughter "checkers". Names are important in Hawai'i.
I chuckled again to myself at the thought as I checked myself out of the hospital. I was my own guardian at the moment so I didn't need anyone to come and pick me up, I could leave on my own. I was still covered in bandages even though it felt as if most of my injuries had healed. Maybe the doctors are trying to remind me that I'm still not "well" and that I shouldn't be so reckless or something from now on.
I debated whether I should go straight to the address aunty and uncle had given me or if I should head back home and grab some things. It has been a while since I last went back because of the temperatures recently. It rained a lot in the area I used to live in. It was so cold, if I got wet I risked getting sick.
It took me half an hour to walk to my old house from the hospital because I didn't have my skateboard. I got lots of stares on my way there looking like a mummy with all the white bandages wrapped around me and the thicc bandaid patch the size of a cell phone slapped on my cheek.
I had a white bandage wrapped around my head mostly hidden under my hair except for my forehead. My left wrist was wrapped all the way to my first and second fingers. And my right forearm was wrapped up past where my T-shirt hoodies sleeve started. Parts of my legs were wrapped too but it was hidden under my pants.
I dug around my pockets for my keys before entering my house. A weird chill ran up my spine as I entered the house of my parents. As I entered I ran my fingers over the dusty photos that were lined up along the wall. All of my parents, distant relatives, and Aydin.
    There were no pictures of me. Of course. I stopped at the closest thing to a photo of me in the room. A picture of Aydin smiling at our 7'th birthday party. I smiled at the sweet picture of my brother. He was smiling in the picture and he had remanents of Nian Gao on his cheek. Nian Gao was his favorite Chinese dessert so we had Nian Gao instead of a western birthday cake. In the background, you could see the table of food, it had moon cakes, naturally, there was Nian Gao, sticky rice cakes, and Black sesame seed rice balls. He was linking arms with someone with a blue long sleeve shirt that was mostly cropped out of the photo... That, someone, was me.
    I walked into the room Aydin and I used to share and went straight for my footlocker. It was one of the only storage areas that I owned. Aydin had been given two wardrobes, a dresser, the entire closet, and his own desk to do homework. I had to do homework on the floor, and my only storage space was a single 1 ½ ft tall, 1 ½ ft long, and 3-foot wide footlocker. I grabbed a backpack that had belonged to Aydin from the closet, I seriously doubt he would have minded. Popping open the locker, I stuffed a couple of my favorite pairs of clothes into the backpack, a small envelope with pictures of me and Aydin, an extra pair of sneaker, toiletries, my prescription meds, and some er... Ahem, less prescribed meds... Ahem. Just kidding, of course, I'm kidding, they're all prescribed. Damn, I have a lot of meds. You never really come to terms with how sick you are until you're trying to cram them all into your bag without having to leave behind your clothes. I glanced around the room. All of Aydin's things. I'm not leaving them behind. I said to myself. And I meant it. I can always come back.
    Looking around at our old room it really hit me how long it's been since I've seen Aydin. I'm about to start high school in a couple months and I'm looking around and I know that Aydin is the same age as me but it feels like he's so much younger. I'm looking at his pictures and he's still the same loving 8-year old that I remember him being. There's long division homework on his desk, and right now I'm in advanced Algebra 1. I'm growing up. A tear slips down my cheek as I realize that in a way I'm leaving Aydin behind. I will grow and learn, but in my memories, Aydin will never grow older than 8 years old.
    Where is he now? How is he doing? Has he forgotten about me? What does he like now? We used to know every facet of each other's personality and now his memories feel so distant that it hurts.
    As I sling my new backpack over my shoulder I take one more look around the silent room. As I walk out I grab Aydin's wristwatch off his desk and buckle it onto my left wrist. Grabbing a fistful of my shirt right over where my necklace is, I leave our old house, locking the door along with a lot of pent up emotions behind me to open only when I feel I'm ready, I grab my skateboard lying on the porch and start making my way towards the address that aunty and uncle gave me.