Run

Chapter 3

Now people say that when you wake up you feel refreshed and ready to go for the day. No matter what time of day it is. Now yes there are the times when you wake up from a long nap in the afternoon after school and feel like crap, but that is expected. Well, let me be the one to tell you that all of those people are terribly wrong. It does not feel good. Most certainly when it is medically induced sleep.
I don't know how long I was asleep. What I do know is that when I woke up I was no longer in the doctor's office. I did not know where I was though. I was all alone as well. Normally when I crash my brother is right there when I wake up. Always right next to me. It's like if he leaves I won't wake up, but he wasn't there. That's not what worried me though. What worried me was what drug was in the IV that was in my arm. That's when I was sure of two things. One, something was seriously wrong with me, and two; my brother was up to something.
I tried to sit up, but my body was not allowing it. It was like all my limbs were made of cinderblocks. I kept trying but nothing. I was going to call out for my brother but before I got the chance I heard two voices outside the door.
"She can't go back."
"We don't have a choice. You can try and fight it but until it's stated in court she has to go back to her parents."
It took me a minute to realize that it was my brother that was arguing with someone. Not just someone but a police officer. I don't know what had changed in my brother, but this was not the person that I knew and loved. My brother would never raise his voice at a doctor let alone an officer. Something had changed and I did not like it. It scared me.
It was quiet for a minute until the door opened. I closed my eyes, but my brother knew, he always knew.
"Hey, baby sis."
"I'm not a baby," I mumbled, realizing that I was actually still kind of sleepy. I could tell he heard it in my voice.

"Why don't you get some sleep," he suggested.
"I'm not tired," I said with very little convincement. He looked at me unconvincingly. He knew I was tired and I knew that he was not going to give up until I fell asleep. But I was not going to sleep. Nothing good ever happened when I slept and he knew that but still, he was right. I needed sleep and he was going to make sure that I got it.
"How about you close your eyes and at least try to get some rest," he suggested.
"Nice try but no," I replied.
"Come on Cath. Just for a little bit. Please," he pleaded.
"No, and you can't change my mind." My mind was made and he knew it, but he was still going to try.
"Cathrine you need to sleep."
"I'm fine Kyle." I insisted, but he was hearing none of it and I finally found out why.
"Really you want to keep telling me that because I've seen the bruises and cuts. I've seen the x-rays and I've been with you for every surgery you've ever had. I know how hard they are on you and you and I both know what we would do for Michael. So quit lying to me. I can't do anything if you lie to me."
"I know," I mumbled
"Then why do you do it!" he yelled. I was going to respond but I decided that it would have been a bad idea. He was mad, and I couldn't really blame him. I was not the easiest person to work with. "Look, I'm sorry, but if you want me to help you, you need to be honest with me."
I didn't respond, and he was okay with that. Sometimes we would do this. Sit in silence. It's our way of communicating and knowing that each of us is okay. To tell you the truth, I missed this. The quiet. It gave me comfort knowing that he was there even if we weren't talking, but I also could not stand it at the same time. I knew he was worried about me and I knew he wanted answers. I was the only one that could give them to him. So despite all my efforts to keep it hidden from all, I told him what really happens in my mind.
"I see him." He looked at me, not really sure if I had said it. "Huh?"

"Dad. I see him sometimes. Standing off in the corner of a room... or sometimes he's you. One second it's you standing in front of me, I blink, and the next thing I know he's ready to slap, punch, kick... whatever he feels like doing. Sometimes I can tell the difference, but sometimes..." I couldn't finish. It was so hard to tell him. He was quiet for a minute, probably wondering whether he really wanted to believe me or not.
"Is he here... in the room?" I didn't want to tell him, but he probably already knew the answer.
"Ya," it was barely a whisper but I knew he heard me.
"Is that what you saw when I came back?" he asked with a seriousness that was not that of a kind caring brother, but that of a person who demanded answers to make sense of the world. It scared me to know that this was not the same person that left at the beginning of the school year.
My response was a simple "mmhh" "Cathrine," he started to raise his voice.
"What? What do you want me to say, Kyle? You know the answer just as much as I do. So why do you ask?" I yelled
"Because maybe I don't want to be right! Maybe I don't want them to be right! That my little sister is sick, and that there is nothing that I can do about it!"
He stopped. Whether it was because he just realized what he had said or if he just had no more to say. All I know is that there was something that he needed to tell me and he was not. And as I said before when my brother makes up his mind. It is very hard to change his mind.