[AustinCarlile] Live Forever

[AustinCarlile] Live Forever [ChapterThirtyTwo]

Stopping, standing exactly where I am, not moving, I pull on his hand to stop him, too, to get him to realize that I want to slow down and explain to him what’s going on, because all he can see are people missing limbs, people who just survived a stroke, that’s what goes on here, in this rehabilitation center, and as bad as my brother’s situation is it isn’t any worse than other situations here. His eyes are pleading with mine to tell him what’s going on when he turns around to face me, and I bite down on my lower lip, shrugging my shoulders. “Um, it, it isn’t completely like this.”

“Like what, Devon, a secret? You kept all of this from me, and why? What are you so worried about? Do you know how much this hurts me – that you never told me someone in your family is in rehab?” He doesn’t understand, he isn’t just in rehab, that’s not what he’s here for, no one is just here for rehab, but rehabilitation is the nicest word, the one with more fluff than all the other names for the treatments that these people undergo, and he doesn’t understand; he may never understand, but I didn’t think he would have expected me to tell him all of this after a month.

Running a hand through my hair, forcing a smile at one of the doctors walking past us, one that used to work with Adam on his food situation, I grab a single strand of hair in between the tips of my fingers, twirling it around my pointer finger and pulling, inwardly cringing at the pain. “I don’t know what you want from me, Austin. But, I'm bringing you here and that doesn’t happen often. I know that it’s a lot; it’s a lot for me every time I come here. So, I’ll give you the option: leave or follow me and trust that what I'm doing is the only thing I know how to do.”

Nodding his head, he drops his gaze down to the floor, my voice harsher than I ever intended it to be, I don’t care though. He has a right to be upset, to be confused, but there is no reason for him to yell at me the way he just did, he can’t act like this when I'm clearly bringing him into a part of my life that means so much to me, that I don’t let a lot of people in to. Shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, he waits for me to begin walking.

I know these hallways so well, he’s been in so many of them, I know most of these patients, he’s friends with them, I know their stories, I've cried while listening to their stories, some of them know my music, they like it, and I know that they know his music, my brother knows his music, he likes his music. They don’t know what he’s here, my mom and my brother, and he doesn’t know that they're here; well, he knows someone is here, but he doesn’t know who and he doesn’t know why.

Dragging my feet across the floor, I stop in front of his room, the door closed, the shades pulled up, and Michelle in there with him, the two of them facing the television, holding a Wii remote in their hands, and smiling, he’s smiling, and my mom is asleep on the cot in the back of the room, across from his bed, she looks exhausted. As soon as I stop walking and stand in front of the door, Austin looks inside, his face softening, though he still knows nothing, his mind must be racing with questions and curiosity.

“His name is Adam. He’s my older brother. The woman sleeping is my mom. And the woman playing Wii with Adam is Michelle; she’s one of the physical therapists here.” Opening my eyes wide, lolling my head back slightly, I pray that the tears won’t fall, I don’t want any of them to see me cry, I can’t cry, not in front of Austin, and most importantly not in front of Adam.

Placing my hand on the doorknob, I glance up at him, his fingers still locked with mine, inhaling as much air as I can through my nose, exhaling slowly and quietly as I open the door, the two of them hearing the soft squeak and turning to see who is entering without knocking. “Hey,” I whisper, extremely aware of the fact that my mom is sleeping in her bed, and Adam’s smile stretches so wide, it’s contagious, I would force a smile, but I don’t have to, and Austin smiles as well, it’s a good reaction, there’s nothing wrong with it.

Michelle pauses the game on the Wii, holding her hand out for Adam to give her the remote so we can say hello, I didn’t mean to interrupt his therapy session, and I can tell that she’s standing farther away than she used to, he’s stretching his arm out farther than he was able to when I last saw him. “Hey, stranger, we’re almost finished with the session. We have about five minutes left. So, say hello and then just give us the five minutes so we can get our Wii on.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laugh softly, everything here is so much calmer, everyone talks softly, their voices either a whisper or normal, never a yell. “Hey, Adam, you look good.” Untangling my fingers from Austin’s, I walk over to him, bending down and wrapping my arms around his shoulders, squeezing him in my embrace, it’s so much harder to hug him when he’s in the wheelchair, but just being able to hug him is enough.

“Wh-w, yo-you br-brou-bro-brought,” he stutters, I know what he wants to ask, I know exactly what he’s trying to say, and I haven’t talked to him in almost a week, partly because if I did I would have told him that I was driving the hour to come and see him when it was supposed to be a surprise, and partly because I was going crazy over the bills from the rehabilitation center and all the treatments.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I let go of him, squatting down in front of him, I'm his big sister now, he’s no longer the big brother, I'm his protector, the roles have changed, and it’s scary, I'm still not used to it, I don’t want to be used to it. “You need to think slower. You’re thinking too fast and you're trying to talk at that rate. Slow down.” Shrugging my shoulders, I tilt my head to the side. “And, yes, he’s here.”

Nodding his head, he opens his mouth to say something, anything, I can see his mind working hard to formulate a sentence. “You ne-neve-nev-never to-told h-him abo-ab-about my ac-acci-accident?” Biting down on my lower lip, I lower my gaze, not wanting to look him in the eye as I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “That-that’s ok-okay, I wi-w-will.”