Surviving the Storm

Chapter 46

    "Are you going to leave him there for the rest of his life?" I ask. I look up to see Noah sighing to himself. We were sitting in the backyard. It became a common theme at night. We'd spend time relaxing next to each other. It was the day after Noah let me visit Jackson.

"He's crazy Reyna. My father put him in there for a reason," Noah reminds me. He leans back onto his arms and sways slightly. "Besides it's too late to bring him back."

"You're twins Noah. Don't you miss your brother?" I ask.

Noah shrugs, "I use to a long time ago."

"What changed? He's still your brother," I ask.

Noah turns to me grabbing my hand pulling it into his lap. He interlocks our fingers together holding my hand in his. "I use to be in an asylum with him," he confesses.

I dismiss the urge to yank my hand out of his. I had to remind myself that I was the one who asked about Jackson. "Why?"

"My father and mother couldn't find where it went wrong. At first they thought it was genetic. A recessive gene that became dominant over the years. Since we were identical twins they feared we were the same. They threw us both into an asylum," he confesses. Noah looks away holding in his emotions. I didn't miss the slight crack in his voice though. I knew he was hurting. He didn't want me to see that though.

                   "How long?" I ask quietly.

                   "It was only a few months. It was horrible Reyna. It was so bad. I didn't think Jackson was crazy. I believed my parents were just exaggerating," he states. He picks up a dandelion out of the ground and hands to it me.

                    "It's never too late to do the right thing."

Life really sucks sometimes. You don't realize it until you hit a breaking point. When everything just starts to go wrong. You start to question why, and cry to your god. The thing you believe controls your life. The person that was supposed to be held responsible. It felt better to blame things on other people than yourself. It felt better feeling sorry for yourself.

        I didn't know that I would hit that breaking point. Least not until I woke up in that bed. I woke to the sound of blasting air. I struggled to open my eyes to the light. The feeling of soft sun rays shining down on my face. I shifted on the bed turning on my side. My fingers gripping the cotton sheets beneath me.

"Looks like sleepy beauty is waking up," giggled a voice.  The sharp pain in my head makes me groan. I open my eyes to the pale white ceiling above me. The soft rays of the sun from the window gazing in. I slowly shift my head to the side. A scratched white wall was the first thing I saw. My eyes travel along the wall to the door.

          The panic quickly settling in my bones. I wasn't in the hospital room. "Poor thing." My head snaps to the corner. There sat a girl on a small wooden chair in a white sleep gown. Her dirty light brown hair shadowing her face.

             "Where am I?" I rasped. My fingers grip the fabric beneath me. I pull myself up into a sitting position feeling my body shudder weakly. I felt so exhausted.