You’d think, after being shot, and stabbed, chased, nearly drown, and just generally attacked, I’d be used to hospitals, but the pungent stench of cleaner still stung my nostrils, the lights were still bright, the walls too white, and my heart still hurt.
The small pulsating muscle, drowning in the worry and dread which moistened my eyes. It was late, when we got to the hospital, or early depending on how you want to look at it. We had to sit in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, before a doctor finally allowed Michael, Noel and I into her room.
I thought, I’d wanted to see her. It was the driving force which enabled me to get on a plane, rather than curl up into a fetal position and cry, but sitting there, in that uncomfortable chair, unable to look away, I realized it was something I wish I didn’t see, or ever would.
Destiny was pale, paler then usual and that was saying something since her complexion reviled that of Michael’s in hue. Countless tubes and wires stuck out of her thin arms, another wrapped around her head, under her nose, and still another disappeared down her throat.
The room, which I felt should have been silent was deafening. Machines beeping, and whirling, Michael sniffing, and Noel full on balling.
My vision blurry with tears, I let my eyes wander to her small hand which rested lightly in mine, cold and limp, dead.
“This is my fault.” Noel whispered, wiping snot on her sleeve, “If I would have stayed at home, she wouldn’t have done this.”
“It’s not your fault.” Michael mumbled, his eyes red.
“Well then whose fault is it?” Noel demanded.
“Her own!” Michael snapped, “I got her a therapist, I called her every day, twice a damn day. I’m just… I’m done.”
“Michael come on.” Noel sniffed.
“No I am!” he cried, “I thought she was getting better! I talked to her and she was fine! She said therapy was working, that she was happy!”
“Maybe something happened.” Noel mumbled.
“I don’t know what to do with her anymore.” Michael grumbled, “I can’t…. I can’t keep worrying about it.”
“What are you saying?” Noel demanded.
“Maybe she should go live with her Dad.”
“That’s low Michael!”
“Well I don’t know what the hell to do anymore!”
“Maybe treat her nice!”
“I do!”
“You do not, you always nag her about crying, you don’t listen to he….”
“What the hell do you do Noel?”
“Michael I’m busy!”
“With what? Yourself?”
“No!”
“I get your husband died but dammit come on! She probably snapped trying to pick up the pieces of your sorry ass!”
“You don’t know anything!”
“I know that I wish it was you!”
“Michael.” I gasped.
“Stella was a good sister, Destiny is a good sister. You…. Noel, you’re a bitch.” Michael spat.
Noel opened her mouth to argue, however deciding against it, she closed it again and sank back down into her chair, burying her face in her lap, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
