BattleEnd

Questions

"You're late again, Miss Hawking," were the first words I was greeted by as I stumbled through the door at 4:25.

"Sorry," I grumbled, hobbling through the door.

"I hope you realize that your own recovery is far more important than that boy you spend so much time talking t-"

"Yes ma'am," I answered automatically. She rambled on for a few minutes before she finally gave up after realizing I had stopped listening long before. Sighing, she handed me the sheet of paper with my daily exercises and told me to get to work. Doris sat in the same chair as she usually did; the one in the corner of the room with her pen and paper and observed my motions as I did my work. I began slowly, and then started to gain speed as I became more sure of myself later on in the workout. Every now and then, Doris' frantic writing would catch my eye as her gaze darted back and forth between the paper in front of her and me. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of watching the clock, six o'clock finally came. I turned to Doris to see what her final decision would be. I held my breath, hoping for the best. A few minutes later, Doris looked up from her writing book and said "you can go home."

Finally. I could go home and see my brother. We could be together. But of course, there was a catch. Shortly after Doris told me I could go home, she amended her previous statement by saying that I could only leave the hospital after my final checkup the next day. My shoulders slumped. I thought I would be able to sleep in my own bed. I thought I would be allowed to hug James again, and let him make me laugh, just as he always did. I wanted things to go back to the way they were before the accident.

That was impossible. Nothing would be the same. I knew that. But I had promised myself that I wouldn't fall to pieces. I promised that I would hold myself together and be strong for Harry. I couldn't let him see me acting weakly. It would only make things harder for him. I cried the first few nights after I woke up, but James was always right there, next to me. I would sob on his shoulder as he tried to calm me down. I knew it killed him to see me that way; I had always been the strong one. I felt tears beginning to well up in my eyes, but I angrily rubbed them away.

I had to accept what happened and move on. If I could just push my emotions down enough, it would be like nothing ever happened. I just had to stop thinking about it.

Nothing happened. Everything is the same as usual. I'm fine. Everything is okay. I'm okay.

I repeated the words like a slow chant in my head. If I said it enough times, maybe it would be real. Maybe, just maybe I could convince myself.

At this point, anything was worth a try.

The police were investigating their murders, and that was all that could be done. There was nothing else I could do other than try and make Harrison happy again. It was my job to protect and support him now. My parents wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Doris had been watching me throughout my entire thought process, and it took me a while to realize that she had been saying my name. I looked up with what I was sure were red and puffy eyes to see Doris looking at me with what seemed to be genuine concern.

"Are you alright, dear?" she questioned.

I forced a smile. "Yes. Thank you ma'am. I'm just tired."

It was obvious that she didn't believe me, but instead of pushing the conversation further like she usually did, she surprised me by saying "okay" and telling me to go get some rest. I nodded, and turned to go back to my room. As I walked back through the hallways, it occurred to me that even when I did finally get to go home, I had no idea what to do. I wanted to continue with my schooling, but it hit me that it wouldn't be possible, now that I had Harry to take care of. I felt a heaviness in my chest as I realized that I would need to hand in a notice to the admissions office stating that I would not be coming back. Granted, being a college dropout was bad, but at least I had gotten enough schooling to find a job and support myself. Harry still had many years to go before he reached that stage. Plus, I was intelligent enough where teaching myself would be a distinct possibility. My little brother, while bright for his age, still struggled in some subjects and needed some one-on-one time with his teachers to do well. At this point, I realized that his schooling would be far more essential than my own. In addition to providing more time for me to dedicate myself to helping Harry, it would also save us some money and give me more time to find a job.