"Molly? Is that you?" Aunt Kara says.
I nod my head.
"Well, come give me a hug! I haven't seen you since Thanksgiving! When do you get so big?" Aunt Kara says.
I gulp.
She has seen me after Thanksgiving.
Everyday, actually.
She just doesn't remember.
I walk over and give her a half hug.
"Where's you parents and Joseph?" She asks.
"Um...They're...Uh" I stutter.
"How old am I?" I ask instead.
"Why Molly, you're 12!"
No I'm not.
I'm 15.
I was 12 when it happened.
"No I'm not." I say quietly.
Aunt Kara looks at me like I'm crazy.
"Last time I checked-" she starts to say, but I cut her off.
"The doctors have told you that you have minor memory loss, right?" I ask.
"Yes." Aunt Kara says.
"Well, I guess it's three years worth of memories. I'm 15 now, and my parents are dead. They died in a severe car accident when they were out on date night. Actually, you were watching Joseph and me that night. It was a Friday, and we were watching Toy Story while eating sausage pizza. It was 10:02 pm when we got the call from the hospital, saying that Mom and Dad were in critical condition. We drove there, and by the time we got there Dad had already died. We were sitting by Mom's side, when something with her heart happened at 10:49 and she died. And that's when I stopped talking. I didn't talk to anyone but Joseph for a year and a half. Then I talked with Jessica too, but then she got hit by a car, went into a coma, and died. Then I didn't talk to anyone at all. But a couple of months ago, our school caught on fire, and I realized that life was too short to mope around forever. So I talked to everyone, rarely, but I talked. And then you got into an accident and ended up here. And Joseph..." That's all I can say before I get choked up to much to continue.
Since I refuse to cry in front of people, I run out of the room, and down to the room were Joseph is.
Through the tiny window in the door, a nurse sees me.
"How can I help you?" She asks me.
"I'd like to see my brother." I whisper, pointing to Joseph.
"And you're immediate family?" She asks.
I just said he's my sister, idiot.
I nod.
She lets me in, and I drag a chair over and sit next to Joseph.
The nurse walks out of the room, and I break down into sobs.
Recapping my life brought back all of the pain I've been through.
"What am I going to do, Joseph?" I whisper in between my sobs.
YOU ARE READING
49
Short Story"The number 49 never used to have any significance in my life. It was always just the number after 48 and before 50. But that was before it happened."
