The Loudest Silence

CHAPTER 3

I plopped Rosy down on the bed. Her eyes are closed, her whole torso jutting forward every other second. The blankets are where I had left them before I went to look for her so I grabbed them and let them drape over her like a small canopy.

I watched her for a minute trying to convince myself that she is fine. She might need to recuperate, but she will be okay. She's fine. The whole part of me wants to believe my thoughts, but too much of me dosn't fall for it. My mind just isn't thinking. I have no idea what to do with her, how to help her, how to make my sister, Rosy better.

Next thing I know I am running down the hall for my mother's help because I am so desperate. So desperate I am asking for my discourteous, arrogant mother. My ears are listening for her surprisingly gentle whimpers. She is crouched on the ground on the side of her bed. My mother apparently heard my footsteps when she yelled, "Get out of here! Just go away!"

I don't understand why because I should have expected that reaction from her, but I started to cry and I pivoted around on my heel and walked back to Rosy.

She is in the same position when I laid her down on the bed still scaring me half to death with her deadly coughs. One last tear streams down my cheeck before I stand up and knock some sense into me. I cannot just sit there and cry and watch my sister die! I need to start taking action. I need to take over for my mother.

The water from the pitcher streams down into the wooden cup my dad made just when I spill some of our clean water onto the ground. Darn my clumsiness. I carefully grab the cup and walk back to our room.

This time when I walk in, Rosy looks at me with her limp eyes. I have never seen anyone have such a pitiful look on their face. I hand the cup to her but she closes her eyes again and lets out a cough. "You have to drink, Rosy." All I get back is the most acute groan followed by little wails.

Rosy slowly turns onto her back and I stick my stuffed doll under her head to boost her up. She is even worse than I thought. the edge of the cup is on her purple lip and I try my hardest not to choke her with too much water at one time.

I set the cup down on the ground beside my sister and tell her, "I will come in and check on you soon," and then I quietly mumble to myself, "Please, please get better. I can't lose you too."

***Chapter not yet finished***