My Sister's Keeper

33

Hermione Granger was considered the brightest witch of her age. She was my idol growing up. Her head always in a book, the brains of the operation. She was the reason Harry and Ron didn't die in the first book.

I would like to think that in some ways, I am like Hermione Granger, but lately I have been feeling more like Neville Longbottom, who deserved more love than he got.

I know why I'm struggling. I know why I have been having such a hard time lately. It's because for my whole life I wasn't in control. I wasn't in control when I was sent to foster care, when my mother got on a plane and died, or when my foster father locked me in a closet, or when I forgot about it. I wasn't in control when Mer was attacked. The first time I was in control was when I was asked if I wanted to be with Mer.

All I ever wanted was to have control.

And then I had control. At least, I thought I was in control. But I didn't want to be that girl anymore. Drinking, smoking, it makes all the buzzing in my brain stop. It made me not feel like I had to be in control. It makes me feel calm when every fiber in my being makes me want to overthink everything and be a control freak.

I don't know how long I can avoid my life, but I'm going to keep trying because I don't want to be in control.

Not anymore.

---///--

She'd tried. Honest to god. She'd laid awake for hours, playing everything in her head like a tape, trying to fall asleep because she just didn't want to think anymore. She had smoked and drank, but instead of crashing, she was stuck with her thoughts.

And when she'd nodded off, she'd wake up in a cold sweat, having dreams about things she didn't remember, things she wasn't sure what to make of.

There was the car crash, the closet, her mom's plane crash (ironic, considering she hadn't even been there), Meredith dying in every way possible, and every other fear she had.

She was smart, they'd called her the brightest mind of her age. She was taking enough classes to fill an undergrad's transcript, she would probably graduate med school at 20, and yet she didn't know how to deal with her emotions.

She didn't really want to sleep anymore, but she didn't want to stay awake either.

The only way she found herself falling asleep at all was when she'd drink or smoke. It was the only way to calm the rattling inside her brain and she'd eventually pass out.

And yet, she never slept more than two hours.

For four days straight.

It doesn't come as a surprise. Not really. She's read enough medical textbooks to know that when you don't sleep, you will eventually collapse from exhaustion.

Somehow, she'd managed to stay awake during all of her classes, hiding in the back, even taking chicken scratch notes. When she was in class or doing schoolwork, she could pull all her feelings away into a box and just focus on the science. It was the reason she still wanted to do schoolwork, even though she didn't really want to do anything anymore.

She fell asleep when, after five days, Sloane forced her to get out of bed to shower because she claimed the room smelled bad.

She should've kept the water cold, to keep her from falling asleep, but she didn't even think about that. She'd let herself relax for one second in the hot water, and she immediately felt her eyes close.

She woke up to the sound of pounding on the stall door.

"Cassie! It doesn't take two hours to take a shower! Don't make me crawl under there!"