Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 106948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Looking away, she muttered, “What are you staring at?”
“You’re going to break hearts someday.”
Instead of smiling, like most girls would at a compliment, she jerked back and hissed, confusing me. “You don’t have to be mean. I know how I look. I’m plain, nothing special. My sister’s the pretty one…or at least she was. She was so beautiful. Now, after battling leukemia for so long, then slipping into a coma three weeks ago, she’s…she’s like a dried-out husk. I have nightmares about her turning to ash and just floating away.”
“That’s fucked-up.”
She gave a sharp laugh, and looked over to her parents before returning her gaze to mine. “Yeah, it is,” she whispered, so softly I could barely hear it and I knew this girl wasn’t used to swearing, “totally fucked-up.”
“Is that why you’re here? Your sister?”
Nodding solemnly at me, she took in a shivery breath. “Yeah.”
I didn’t know how to comfort her, so I tried to make her understand that I knew how she felt. In a way. While she held no responsibility for her sister’s death, my mother’s blood was on my hands, even if I didn’t pull the trigger. Those bullets were meant for me and I failed to keep her safe.
“My mother’s dying in a room that smells like medicine and piss,” I blurted out. “It’s bullshit.”
She surprised me, anger burning on her innocent face as she whispered, “It is. I hate this place. My sister wanted to die at home, in her room so she could look out the window and see our tree house, but my parents made the doctors try everything to cure her, no matter what. She was in so much pain, crying all the time, trying to be brave. She wants to die, I heard her begging them to let her go to sleep and not wake up, but they won't. They say they believe in God, and pray to him all the time to cure Tiffany, but they don’t really believe in him. If they did, they’d know Tiffany is going to Heaven where it doesn’t hurt anymore. Where she can be happy. It’s…” She looked around then lowered her voice to barely a whisper again. “Everything is bullshit.”
Big tears rolled down her now blotchy cheeks, and I grabbed her some tissue from one of the boxes around the room. She gave me a watery smile then blew her nose.
When I looked over to where her parents had been sitting, the faded chairs were empty. “Where did they go?”
Her narrow shoulders rose to her ears as she shrugged, looking away when I sat next to her again. “Who knows?”
“Aren’t they worried about you being in here alone and talking to me?”
“No. I think…I think they’re mad I’m okay and Tiffany isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
She held my gaze, something most people couldn’t do. “I don’t blame them for loving her more. I mean, I’m nobody and she’s amazing. Tiffany isn’t only my sister, she’s my best friend. Kind, sweet, and awesome. She was so funny, always pulling pranks and making our parents laugh. I know they ask themselves why God would take Tiffany and not me, I heard them talking when they thought I was in bed, and I wonder the same thing. If I could trade places with her in a heartbeat, I would.”
And people thought I was fucked-up. Anyone who could do this to their kid, mess with their head this badly, deserved nothing but contempt. She scuffed her feet on the floor and I reached out, taking her hand in mine, aware of how tiny the bones of her hand felt. Something, some unknown emotion, made me want to give her hope, needed to make her feel better.
“Do you believe in destiny?”
“What?”
“You know, fate.”
“No. Do you?”
“Absolutely. Think about it, from the moment of conception to right now, how many things had to go exactly right to bring you here? How many close calls did you survive? What were the chances that your parents would even meet? If you look at the big picture of your life, you can see the divine pattern. You’re here for a reason, a purpose, we all are, which means you’re special.” I inadvertently squeezed her fingers as the reality of what was happening down the hall hit me again. “My mom taught me that.”
Even though I must have hurt her fingers, she placed her other hand on top of my tanned one, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry about your mother. She sounds really cool.”
“She’s the best.”
Movement through the glass windows by the door drew my attention and I stood right away, recognizing the pretty older doctor who’d been taking care of my mom.
She motioned to me when she reached the doorway and my heart sank. I knew by her face my mom didn’t make it. A high ringing filled my ears as everything inside of me screamed in agony, in denial. I didn’t need to hear the words to know she was gone.