Crowded

Prolouge

"What?"
That was the only question jumping in my mind as Doctor Lynn stood in front of me. His features were slacked and a tight frown took up most of his face. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, instead his eyes were glued to the clipboard in his hands.

"Your brother, he's dead," he repeated. The floor came fast enough that my heart dropped to it with the rest of me. All the days and night I spent with him, amounts to nothing now. Only a memory of what once was and what will never be again. I didn't even notice drops fall onto my hand as I started to sob. Breathlessly forcing out the ache in my chest. A rackety breath only lasted a second.

"What happened?" I paused, bringing my blurry vision to finally find his eyes, "He was doing so well." My brother David was diagnosed with cancer years ago. He was recovering and when I talked to him this morning his under-eye bags were gone, his teeth shone past his lips, his skin was back to its original dark color. David was still bald but he joked about growing his hair out again to his shoulders.

"We're still running tests. Marsha I know this is hard on you, would you like me to run a referral to a mental health specialist?" Lynn seemed kind enough. His eyes shone with sympathy but voice held strong with a gentle reminder that he does this a lot.

"Yes please," is all I said. Dad will take care of the papers and Mom will pay for it. Mom works as a police officer and my dad stays home to care for David, Charlie, and me. Or just Charlie and me now.

My legs quaked under the pressure of gravity as I got up. Everything was far away, only a fog in my head.

Only when I came into the driveway did I realize I had even stepped outside of the hospital. Snow fell as I got out, the clouds blocking the moonlight. I took a second to look back down the driveway.

There was a kid.

He was playing on a sled, carelessly sliding into the road. I said nothing of it, but I watched. Loud clutter came from a broken muffler down the road, speeding. The kid smiled and went on his sled again, starting another trip down the hill. The truck was coming faster than he could abandon the sled.

The silence after the crash was deafening. The little boy lied there, dead from impact. At least, that's what I thought. The driver got out, she had tears running down her cheeks and heavy panic in her voice. She called out, the parents coming out of the house in a rush. They cradled the boy's body while the woman called an emergency vehicle. Based off of how fast the truck was going, he, at the very least was dead.

Then he blinked.