The Brightest Stars

Annabelle

"Your asthma has gotten worse, Annabelle."

My sister sits on the edge of my bed. Tenderness and sadness mix among her professional composure. She looks over at Hannah and nods. Kristen furrows her eyebrows as she tries hard to understand the Spanish we're speaking.

Sometimes even I have to stop and listen carefully when my sister speaks. We have the same mother, but different fathers. Because her father is from Spain, she was raised there and therefore, still carries a strong accent when we speak in Spanish.

"How is that possible?" I say. My chest still burns and I take a deep breath. Kristen takes a hold of my hand and I give her a small smile. My expression softens as I say, "I've been taking all the medications I need and at the right time. Just because of an asthma attack, it doesn't mean that--"

"Annabelle." Ainoha's firm voice stops me and I can feel tears swell up in my eyes. Her expression softens once again and worry crosses her dark blue eyes. "I will talk to your doctor and see if we can get you a CT scan of your lungs to continue this conversation with what we get."

She stands up and looks at the small clipboard hanging at the bottom of my bed. She then walks up to the whiteboard and writes CT on it. She gives me that smile she usually gives outside of the hospital and gestures for Hannah to follow her outside. Hannah gives me a quick kiss on my forehead before she heads out. My eyes try hard to understand their lips as they lean on the large counter just outside my room.

"What were they saying?" Kristen quietly says. Her blue eyes have lost all hint of anger or fear and are now left soft.

I sigh and lay back down on my bed. Somehow this position helps my breathing not be so painful. "They said that my asthma has gotten worse. And I don't get why! I mean...you know! I take the medicine and I--" I'm interrupted by my own cough and Kristen quickly helps me sit up.

She gently rubs my back and lays me back down when I'm left with only the burning sensation in my chest. I try hard to take deep breaths and close my eyes.

"You have to listen to your doctors, Belle. Just because you don't see yourself with an oxygen tank everywhere you go, doesn't mean you should take it so easily."

I click my tongue in disappointment and look away as I fight back the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. "No, Kristen. You don't understand." I let out a small cough as the pain comes back to my chest and I wince.

This time, Kristen sits beside me on my bed and takes my hand. Her blue eyes filled with worry and tenderness as she says, "Help me understand."

With this, I look back at her and let the tears fall out. She gives me a look she once had the night her father got in an accident...

I clear my throat and try my best to get back out stronger. To swim back up to the surface. The memory of that horrible feeling of my lungs tightening and my heart racing as I struggle to reach for a glimpse of air still lingers. Yet, tears fall anyways as Kristen quietly watches me. My voice breaks as I say, "If my lungs get worse, then I won't be able to dance again."

"Oh, Belle," Kristen sadly says. "There are so many other things you can do and you're so talented! Like theater, debate, and--"

"No, Kristen." My voice shivers and I let it be as despair falls on my weak heart. "Dance is something I love. I...I can't lose that, Kristen...Sometimes I wish she should've just killed me when she had the chance to." My voice is a quiet whisper as I say this. I wrap my arms around myself and let out a quiet sob.

Kristen immediately wraps her arms around me and kisses the top of my head. "Belle. Don't say that. Then who would have helped me survive kindergarten? Or stop me from doing something stupid? Hm? Belle, don't ever say that again. You hear me?"