Night Time Is Our Time

Chapter 5

Hey everyone, it's been  while, and I feel horrible for leaving for so long. I'm so sorry, but here's a chapter. Please forgive me! Enjoy this chapter and please vote, share, and comment your thoughts, questions, or mistakes. 

I felt somebody's fingertip poke against my left cheek and their sharp nail made me clench my teeth in pain. I didn't want to make a noise to so I kept myself silenced throughout the annoying gesture. It was probably my sister trying to wake me up. She was probably checking if I was dead because once my face twitched from her sharp nail, she stopped poking me.

I started to open my eyes and I moaned out a sound of pain, when I moved the position of my leg. Both my mother and sister helped me sit up to a comfortable position on the bed. As they pushed me up, I felt my back slightly crack.

"You okay." Bea asked with concern dripping through her voice. I had a couple bruises on my arms that made lavender bloom on my skin. When they helped me sit up, my mother and sister accidently squeezed too hard on my weak arm. Different tones of pink started to manifest on my skin, until shades of blue took their place again. My upper arm was swelling up and again I am reminded about the horrible state I am in. They both quickly apologized for giving me discomfort, and I forgave them as quickly as they said sorry. Mom and Bea were just trying to help.

Bea came up to me and gave me a big hug and soon my mom did the same. I was part of a group hug, and it has been a long time since I felt comfortable in one. Group hugs usually made me feel like I was lacking in oxygen, and hugs in general made me feel the same way. I could only tolerate contact from a few people, and sadly that amount was less than the fingers I can count on both hands. Sometimes I feel like I'm the most complicated person I know.

Bea un-clutched her arms around her mother and I, and I shifted my eyes to follow the direction of her black leather boots.  After grabbing a box from her bag, she walked up to the bed. She always walked with grace and confidence. I only wish that I can be as perfect as her.

My mom kissed me on the forehead before she unhooked her thin arms around me. I'm surprised that she didn't stand to flatten out the creases of her dress suit. There was only so many surprises I can handle in one day, before suspicion takes the front seat behind my eyes. 

Bea handed me some cookies from the box, and I gladly took them.

"I baked these this morning. They're good right?" Bea said as she took a bite of a chocolate cookie herself.

"When are they ever bad?" I said this as I had melted chocolate and crumbs decorating my mouth. Bea laughed hard, she even abandoned her cookie as it slipped out of her hand. My jokes aren't even that funny, so I was clueless as to why she was gasping for air. I didn't even say a joke. I was serious about her cookies. They were always amazing. If they were burnt, I would still probably think they were amazing.

"What's so funny?" I kept staring at her as if she wasn't Human.

"You have chocolate all over your teeth. You look like you have no teeth!" She said in small doses of air as she pointed at my teeth. I started to lick my teeth, and mom even chuckled as she wiped up the mess on my lips. I felt like an overgrown baby.

In the next few minutes, there were only a few cookies left, and I was the one who consumed most of them. The food the hospital gave me was good, but nothing could compare to my sister's baking. Ever since she was young, she loved the kitchen and she would always get in trouble for using the oven. My mom and dad both thought that we would burn the house down one day and end up burning ourselves, but that day never happened. Bea was always great with cooking so she never brought damage into the kitchen, instead she was the one that made the kitchen smell the complete opposite of smoke and flames. She was a talented cook and baker, which lead her to owning a bakery. It was voted the best in town, and I swear people who didn't even know her personally was proud of her. Even my clumsiness could never sheild her glory.