Look for the <> for where to listen to the song!
I scrolled down Instagram as I waited for my IV treatment to stop that same day. Mom let out a small snore, which brought my attention to her for a second, before looking at my phone again. She could sleep anywhere at any time, I swear.
"Hey Clare, how are you doing?" nurse Jensen said to me softly, careful not to wake my mom as she walked into my room. Little did she know it would take a tornado to wake her up.
"Board," I yawned with a stretch. I always hated IV treatments, and today was no different as I looked outside, seeing the sun shining, temping me to go out. I wanted to be out there, instead, I was in here doing literally nothing for hours.
"Want to do something fun?" she asked with a smile.
I smiled back at her, feeling suddenly energized since no nurse had ever asked me to do anything fun. As exciting as this possibility was, I was a little hesitant to take her offer, knowing that there had to be some kind of catch. "Like what?"
"I would love for you to hang out with someone for a bit."
I frowned, not wanting to do this 'fun' thing anymore. I was done getting hurt by making friends at the hospital. Been there, done that a little too many times to count.
She put her hands up and shook her head, realizing that she didn't phrase it the right way. "No, it's not like that. It's just my daughter, she's a bit lonely and needs some company."
I wondered why she had a daughter here. The last I heard, she was healthy. Jensen probably just needed someone to babysit for a few and that didn't sound too bad. I owed Jensen a solid or two anyhow. Plus, I looked at the IV in my arm, wasn't doing anything. "Sure. I can do that. Where is she?" I asked her as I started to slip on my brown Uggs.
She smiled shyly at me. "Room 340."
My smile dropped. She had her own room. What was this nurse tricking me to do? Was she a patient here too?
"Thank you so much, Clare. I really appreciate this," she told me right before she walked out the door before I could protest.
I frowned as I slipped a hat on in attempts to keep me warm since I could walk around with a blanket around my shoulders like it was now. I swear, so many people here were so crafty with their words, I got in too many messes because of them. As much as I wanted to not go, I just told her I would, so I felt like I should keep my word.
I looked at mom sleeping, then grabbed a pen and post-it page and wrote a note explaining why I left just in case she woke up before I returned. And with that, I walked out of my room with my IV pole in tow and a phone in my hand.
I walked down the halls until I made it to her room. I took a deep breath, bracing myself as I tapped on the door to make sure I wouldn't startle her. "Hey, can I come in?" I asked before I took a step into the room.
"Sure," a small voice spoke up and with that, I walked in. I was expecting to see a girl my age but when I walked in, I saw a girl that was no older than 6 with her leg in a cast.
"Hey, that's a massive looking cast you got there," I said to her with a small smile, trying to make conversation.
She shrugged with a frown, looking scared and alone. For a second, she reminded me of myself when I first started going to the hospital, although she was younger than I was when I first came. "I guess."
"If I were you, I would wear this as a badge of honor."
She was quiet, causing me to frown, wondering if I said something wrong? Man, what was wrong with me? I couldn't even befriend small children. I suddenly felt stupid for agreeing to do this.
"Who are you?" she asked me.
I suddenly felt dizzy and grabbed a hold of my IV pole for support. "Can I sit here?" I asked, as I pointed to the seat next to her bed. She nodded and I took a seat as I took deep breaths to get my head on straight. I pinched the bridge of my nose to make the dizziness stop. And sure enough, after a few minutes, it did. I looked up at this small little girl and forced a smile. "My name is Clare. I've known your mom for a long time now."
"So, you and my mom are friends?"
More like she is the one that cares for me the most. Nurse Gracie Jensen had to be my favorite nurse that worked here, but I never really thought of her as a friend. She had my back through thick or thin though. I just shrugged and went with it. "Yeah, we're friends."
She smiled a slightly toothless smile at me. "You're so young to be friends with my mom."
I raised my eyebrows at her and smiled. She had a thing or two to learn about friendship. "Friendship has no age requirement. Who says I can't be friends with older people."
She shrugged. "No one, I guess."
"Exactly," I smiled, feeling more comfortable while talking to her. "So now you know my name. What's yours?"
"Wendy," she said, and smiled another toothless grin at me.
"And how old are you Wendy?" I said as I leaned back in my chair.
"I'm 5 and a half. And I just lost my first two teeth on Saturday," she said proudly at me.
I forgot how honest little kids were. I admired that, I almost felt it a shame that we as people often lost the most admirable attitudes that children had as we aged. If we spent more time with them, we would be better, I was sure of that. "That's very cool. Were you scared of losing your teeth?"
She shook her head at me. "No, not at all. My mom knocked them out with a cup."
"That's awfully brave of you to let your mom do that."
"I asked her to," she said, as her smile grew even wider.
I chuckled, suddenly impressed that she was so brave to do that. It amazed me that at such young ages, children were filled with such bravery for the unknown. She didn't know if it would hurt or not, she just went for it.
"Clare?"
"Yes, Wendy?"
"Can we be friends?"
My smile grew larger as I nodded. "Of course we can be friends."
"Good. Because I don't like my friends at school. They're mean to me," she said with a frown, as if thinking about something they did to her.
I frowned at her. "Did they do this to you?" I asked as I gestured to her leg.
She nodded at me and that broke my heart. Why did people have to be so mean to one another? We shouldn't be that way, but sometimes we were for different reasons. Maybe it was because they were afraid or moved by hatred. Sometimes we did it on purpose, but sometimes we didn't mean it. I thought about the times I actually hurt people, Peter, my parents, Farrah, Doctor Patel. The list went on forever. But all of them continued to forgive me, as if knowing that I would never hurt them again however they knew I would. I always would because I was difficult, mood, hard to deal with, but their desire to forgive me made me want to be better.
She gave a small smile at me and I returned it. "Do you want to play a game with me?"
"Of course, I'll play with you," I said as Nurse Jensen came running in with a worried look. I thought it was because of concern for her daughter but she turned to me and it made my stomach churn. "Clare, you need to join your parents in the ER."
My mind went to the darkest thoughts. If my parents were there, it had to be because of Farrah. "Is she ok?" I asked the Jensen as if I already knew it was my sister that was hurt.
<>
She frowned, not saying anything. "I don't know."
My eyes welled up with tears as I thought about the worst things that could have happened to my little sister. What scared me the most was her response. It was full of uncertainty.
"Hey, don't do that. I know nothing. Go downstairs, and things will turn around," she said as she crouched on the ground, holding my shoulders, giving me a pep talk. She brought me into a hug. "It'll be ok." she said softly before standing up again and helping me get to my feet.
I forced myself to take steps forward, but I was so lost in my thoughts, I couldn't even think to move. I was the one supposed to be here. This was my cross to bear, not anyone else that I loved. Soon I stood in the doorway of the ER with a heavy heart.
"Clare!" mom called out to me as she walked over to me. She hugged me tightly as if she let go I would disappear, which scared me more than I wanted to share. She took in long shaking breaths to calm herself as she held me.
"It's ok," I told her as if I already knew it was ok. I didn't. I didn't even know what had happened.
Dad walked over to us and hugged both of us, making a nice Atkins sandwich. I could have stayed in that position forever, supported by them, the feeling of love and comfort was so strong. I knew my parents loved me, but there were times like this where they reminded me even more that they loved me.
"What happened?" I asked as I pulled out of the hug. I took the closest seat and sat down, feeling exhausted from walking here.
As soon as I asked, mom's eyes welled up with tears again so instead dad spoke. "Clare, a car has hit your sister. It was a hit and run."
I frowned at him, waiting for him to crack a smile, letting me know this was a joke. But his face stayed still, hinting that this was not a joking matter.
I felt like the wind was knocked out of me as I looked at him. I couldn't believe my ears. I heard of things happening like this in the news, but I never thought I would know someone that it happened to. Who in the right mind would hit and run anyhow? It infuriated me. "Is she ok? I want to see her." I demanded and stood up from my seat, fighting the pounding ache that normally came when I had pushed myself to the limits.
Dad shook his head at me, his face was still. "We have to wait here."
I let his words sink in. A car hit her. We couldn't see her. We had to wait. Farrah wasn't well, that was why we couldn't see her. They weren't telling us anything; she was really hurt; she had to be. "What, no, I want to see her now. I need to see her," I said as I cried, gripping onto my dad for support. "I want to see Farrah."
He held onto me but didn't say anything.
Within a minute, I let go of him. Crying would solve nothing. There needed action done. The hospital was my second home. If I could do anything, it sure as hell could be to see Farrah. I held onto the IV pole as I made it to the front desk. I knew all the nurses here, but none of the names came to my mind as I looked at them. "I want to see Farrah Atkins," I demanded to them, with less tact than I wanted to give.
They shook their heads at me and frowned. "As much as we would like to do that, we can't, Clare."
My strong posture wavered. Not even them, who knew me, would let me in. "But I want to know if my sister is ok."
"You have to wait like everyone else in this room. But you can follow me, your treatment's over, so I want to take that IV off you," one nurses said as she stood up from her chair.
I followed her back into the ER, into an empty seat, and sat down as my eyes wondered, hoping to lay sight of Farrah. My thoughts were somewhere else as she talked and wrapped the bandage around my arm. "It will be ok," she said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I looked up at her and frowned. "It'll be only ok when I can see her," I snapped.
She nodded at me. "I understand that. But I'm sorry, you will just have to wait. My hands are tied here."
I folded my arms over my chest as she resisted laughing at me. "Farrah always tries to convince me to let her in early to see you too. You two are more alike than I can say. Trust me when I say that everything will be ok, Clare," she said and stood up and took me out of the room, back to where my parents waited.
Hours seem to pass without any word and just when I was about to yell at someone from anxiety, a nurse came up to us. He must have only worked at the ER because I didn't recognize him. "Atkins?" he asked.
We all stood up on cue and my dad said, "That's us."
"Can you come with me?"
We followed on his heels as he led us through a door and down a hall to a room where Farrah was asleep. Her hand bandaged and wrapped, just above her right eyebrow and a large cut was stitched to keep the skin together on her shoulder.
I heard mom emit a small gasp at the sight of her in this state. My heart ached to see her like this, but I didn't show it. "She has a concussion and we want to keep her overnight to make sure the swelling isn't damaging."
I sat down next to her and watched her sleep as my parents continued to talked with the nurse. Suddenly all the stress melted when I held her hand, feeling whole again. I couldn't imagine life without her. I needed her probably just as much as she needed me, making me think that this was how Farrah felt every time I was here in her place. All this stress and anxiety, I would do anything to make her well. This feeling must be what Farrah was talking about when she said the family would move mountains for me., because I would move mountains for her.
After who knows how long, my parents came back into the room. "It's getting late, Clare. We should leave," dad said with a yawn.
"I want to stay until she wakes," I said as I rested my head on the bed, barely able to keep my eyes open.
He shook his head. "No, you need a proper bed to rest in. Tomorrow morning you can see her with proper rest," he said and held out his hand so I could take it. "Come on."
I looked at his hand hesitantly. As much as I wanted to stay, an actual bed sounded nice. "I'll be here first thing in the morning?" I asked him.
He nodded. "First thing in the morning. Promise."
"Deal," I said and took his hand to help me to my feet.