§ Prologue §
As a child, I always was the one who never could quite still enough, or meet up to the expectations of the rest of my family. My sister was exactly what I was not, and I hated her for it. My parents idolized, showering her with all the complements which I never would receive. They would whisper to her behind my back and when they laughed, they were always looking at me. She was gorgeous. With bright green eyes and long curly blonde hair, she had the smile of a queen. She had flushed pink skin that was flawless. Her eyebrows arched whenever she laughed and her red pouty lips only accentuated to it more. She even had the figure of a woman.
On the other hand, I was always a bit tall and gangly. I never did quite develop into that woman so many others had expected me to. But then again, you can't expect a flower to grow just by wishing on it. I had dark hair. A deep auburn mixed in with jet black. With pale skin and blue eyes, I was a bit frightening to look at. The contrast between light and dark threw most off and most of the time, they just averted their eyes. When I asked my mother why, she would just say that I was a very unique person and not like all the other little girls.
Yeah. All the other little girls that had their beautiful gold hair and bright eyes and fair skin. They looked as if they had been cloned a million times and scattered into different homes. All the other little girls. Like Ariel. Like my sister.
I hated her.
Compared to me, no one would be able to even tell that we were related. Compared to her, well lets just say, I couldn't measure up. Yet, that never stopped me. Her greatest goal was to one day get married. To fall in love with a handsome rich man who loved her equally. They'd settle down then have kids and her job from then on would be to stay at home and spend the rest of her days caring for the chores around the large country mansion.
Just the thought of getting married made me gag. Being tied down to only stay in the house and clean up after what my husband couldn't? It didn't seem like the ideal life for me. I wanted something more. Something that had no boundaries. Something. something. boundless.
And eventually, I got exactly what I wanted. I finally broke free from my family that had restrained me so long. Their idea of a proper lady was being forced into a corset, dressed up in garb meant to accentuate you doll-like appearance along with sitting still for hours at and end, trying to please some family so stuffed up with money, they wouldn't know the meaning of poor if it ran naked in front of them. Yes. I'm cynical. But I blame it on heritage. After all, I wasn't meant to live this life.
Sometimes I wonder if there's someone out there in this world, someone who felt they didn't belong. Someone that felt that they were needed at home. I would take their spot in a heartbeat. You may be thinking that I'm making a big deal out of nothing. A big deal about having to act all prim and proper. But it wasn't just that. I tried to deal with it. I truly tried. But you would feel a bit out of place if people sneered at you. Sneering at you whenever you make a mistake. I tried to hell, I tried.
I remember the time when I was around twelve. I still wasn't cooperating with anyone and my parents began to grow frantic. My sister had already discovered her newfound love for the opposite sex when she was my age. I was still too busy trying to figure out how I could run faster when wearing a dress that weighed half of what I did. This fact alone scared my parents half to death.
Mr. and Mrs. Black. My father a respected navy captain and my humble mother, the most renowned seamstress. I should have been grateful for what they have done for me. Giving me shelter, food, a place to live I guess for the past 17 years. But then again, I still wasn't happy. They never told me to my face, but I knew that they were pushing me towards marriage when I hit fifteen. I couldn't beat around the bush anymore. I didn't want to get married. I didn't want to live my life with some man who only was in the same house as me because 'things turned out this way'.
Things shouldn't have turned out the way they were. My father was continuously away now. First it started off with, " Oh. I am needed to sail over to Jamaica. There's been some mix up with the ship. The crew. Conflicts. I have to make sure everything's fine in matters."
We didn't take to it as anything. Just that he needed to run some errands down in Jamaica. He had gone their before and would come back fair and square. Port Royal was where he normally checked up on his beloved ship. His HMS Intrepid. So to us there wasn't any suspicion or any reason to become suspicious. Yet the only problem was we lived in Port au Prince. Pretty far off from Royal.
I hadn't lived in Port au Prince for my whole life. Just a year before, my father decided to move closer to where his main fleet, which would be situated and harbored at Port Royal, Jamaica. We left Britain by his ship and sailed for god knows how many weeks.
And whenever he did leave for Jamaica, it wouldn't just be a few days. It became weeks. It should have never taken that long. Gone for a week maximum. I don't even understand why I don't know why I never noticed, but whenever he came back, his cheeks were paler. He would be hushed and whenever someone attempted to talk to him, he would snap. I would know. I remember the day he came back, and I ran down the drive to meet him as he stepped from his carriage.
He seemed to have lost his energy and instead, his face was masked in gloom. It was odd, for he was not an old man. Quite young actually. Handsome I would venture to say. But he was different now. And I had not the slightest idea. His eyes were sunken into his face, with deep yet dark circles surrounding them. He looked withered, old, tired, and done through. He didn't hold himself like he used to, back straight, eyes always looking ahead and not worrying about what life threw at him. Now, he seemed crippled with weary. He averted his eyes from direct contact. His body was worn down and I was shocked to see how much he changed.
But I loved him anyways. I threw myself at him, bringing him into an embrace that I had been practicing for weeks, just for him. But his eyes gleamed with anger that I had never seen before. I mean well sure. I've seen him angry before, but this was new. His soft green eyes darkened and he shoved me away from him.
" Get off me Taryn!" he growled just before stalking away.
I wasn't given time to react. He had already disappeared into the house and I was left speechless, standing in the middle of the drive, wondering pitifully what I had did wrong. He was a changed man now. And for the worse.
The next day, we finally found out what was wrong. I hadn't even waken yet when I was jolted from by bed by a piercing scream. I woke bleary eyed and confused as I wandered out into the hallway. Wrapping my nightgown tight around me, I felt myself being shoved into the wall. Spinning around, I saw one of the maids tearing down the hall as if the Devil himself was after her.
" Excuse me." I muttered with a hint of annoyance in my tone.
She turned around only long enough to cover her mouth with her hand. Giving me a sad look, she whispered in a muffled voice, " Y-your father."
And with that, she disappeared into one of the rooms, letting out another scream.
" What about my father?!" I asked angrily, turning back around.
That was when I saw him.
My brother and two other men advanced slowly up the stairs, supporting a figure between them. My sister followed behind them silently, her hands knotted tightly in front of her. Suddenly, the shape stumbled and almost fell down backwards on the stairs, but the three men quickly caught him and carried his large yet flaccid form in-between themselves like a hammock. Getting closer, I suppressed a scream from myself as I pressed my hand to my mouth. My eyes widened in shock as I realized that that 'limp' form was my father. His heavy body hung limply between the three men carrying him up towards me. His pale grayish face hung backwards, looking like something straight from a horror story, slumped against my brother's arm. His mouth was open and blood dripped out from his bruised lip onto his chin. His eyes were closed but when he opened them for a split second, I saw that the whites had turned yellow and were streaked bloodshot. Each step they took up the stairs, her father's hand knocked against the banister in a consistent rhythm.
Clunk Clunk Clunk Clunk
I ran to his side and lifted his arm onto his chest. It seemed like the only thing I could have done at the moment. His eyes were closed but every so often he would cough loudly, forcing up blood. I looked up at my sister, frantic.
" What's happening? What happened to him? Ariel!" I yelled when she looked away from me.
" The doctor's coming miss," one of the other men said, as if it would comfort me. He threw me a comforting smile, but I only looked away in disgust.
When they finally laid him gently onto his bed, as I had made sure, I quickly pulled the blankets in around him. He was unmoving and I couldn't help but shiver visibly at looking at him. His eyes were closed and it seemed as if he had only gone to sleep. I felt my stomach wrench just at thinking such thoughts and I quickly turned away. The other men quickly left the room and the closed the door behind them, leaving me and Ariel to each other.
Giving my father a quick kiss on the cheek, I turned back to Ariel, tears streaming down my face.
" Ariel. what's wrong with him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ariel didn't answer for a while. She only looked down at her feet as she shuffled them constantly. Her brows furrowed with concentration, but I knew it was to try and change the subject. How could she change the subject now? I had just been woken up by a scream and proceeded to find my father half dead and half alive, the only thing keeping him on his feet was the physical support.
I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at me until he answered. She took my hand slowly as if it would soothe me, but I think it was more for her own comfort.
" I don't know Taryn. I really don't know," she whispered, her voice showing that she was every bit as surprised as me.
Unfortunate for him, I wasn't the kind to like riddles. Throwing an angry look at my father's shivering form then back at my petrified sister made me almost want to scream. Grabbing her wrist with my free hand, I pried her strong fingers off my hand. Throwing her hand back at her, I took a few steps back, furious.
" Ariel." I said in a low voice, my back heaving with every shaky breath I took. " Tell me what goddamn bloody happened."
She finally lifted his head with much difficulty and looked at me.
" I-I mean w-we. Yes. WE found him out on the terrace. He must have wanted to eat breakfast out there for we found his plate and the wine bottle broken beside him. But it seemed as if he had fallen from his chair. Something of that sort. But when we reached him, he was shaking. His whole body was shaking. But then he coughed once hard, bring up blood, and then he was still. He looked like he was going to die."
I gave her a hard look. My hands were curled up into tight fists, clutching my nightgown in my hands.
But as if to laugh the whole matter off, Ariel gave a small shrug.
" But its been happening before. As to say, he has been coughing a bit over the last couple months. This is the worst its going to be." she trailed off.
I couldn't believe how blind she was acting. Normally I would have agreed with her and laughed it off, but now was no time to joke around. It was my turn and I grabbed her wrist.
".Ariel." I hissed.
Just at that moment, the doctor walked in. He held a small bag with him. We both nodded in acknowledgment to him and quickly but respectfully left the room.
The maid who had waked me earlier was now trying to sneak past me, avoid my look. But I caught her a bit more roughly on the arm than I intended. She let out a small yip, but otherwise turned her frightened eyes away from mine.
" You know something about this." I growled.
She shook her head so hard that her bright blondish red curls bounced around her face. Her lips were pursed and for a short moment I was tempted to slap her silly until she answered. But then if I did, she would probably be to deliriously from it and not tell me the real truth. I held my hand back and spoke through gritted teeth.
" What is wrong with my father."
She whimpered slightly as she tried to twist out of my grasp.
" Miss. aah. you're hurting me," she whispered, her eyes lowered.
I wrenched her hand one last time as she fell to her knees. Lowering my face so that it was within inches of hers, I spoke calmly.
" Tell me."
She yielded.
" 'Tis a stroke, miss. 'Tis a stroke. I heard the doctor say sum about it."
I exploded into a rage.
" How would my father? MY FATHER! Get a stroke! He's healthy!"
" Do ye honestly believe that when he leaves. he leaves for Port Royal? Ever since he found out ye mum wasn't faithful, he's been drinking. It doesn't take forever to get to Royal miss. He goes to Tortuga."
My mind was swirling with everything I was learning. I couldn't take it in fast enough. But when I did, the poor maid, I think she was named Penny, was the one I took it out on.
" MY MOTHER IS NOT A WHOAR! SHE IS FAITHFUL! My father is NOT going to Tortuga! He is an honest man! Where are you finding all these lies?"
I took my free hand and backhanded her across the face. That was where I went too far. I had never been one to control my anger. Go ask Tom or Ariel. They have seen and experienced my anger countless times. I'm not saying that it is correct. I am just stating that I, for one, cannot control myself.
Penny broke down in tears. She tried to pull her hand away from my grasp, but I was holding on too tightly. Her bawling annoyed me, and so did the fact that what she said could possibly be true. I stumbled backwards into the wall again, freeing her arm. As I watched silently as she ran away sobbing, I tried to stay standing.
The wall behind me turned out to be a door, and it opened just then. Speak of the Devil eh?
I fell backwards into the room into had just been, but providentially, the doctor caught me in his arms and righted me.
" Miss. If I may speak to your brother on matter's concerning your father please.."
My eyes widened again with disbelief.
" My brother? MY BROTHER!" I shouted. " Why don't you tell me? OR WORSE! Go talk to my BLOODY SISTER!"
He retreated a few feet back away from my screaming.
" Miss. I do not believe that children of you age would understand how strong this situation happens to be. Maybe they will tell you. Just to inform you. Yes. But where might you brother be miss? This matter is urgent."
I stood there speechless. My mouth hung open as I gaped at him like a dead fish. I wasn't young. Or at least I wasn't young enough to not understand the severity of the situation. I couldn't answer him. I shut my mouth just for his sake. I wasn't quite sure the next thing I said would be civil.
Just then my brother appeared. It seemed as if he was always there when you needed him. Whether you wanted it or not. His face was almost as pale as my father's except he held the spark of life, which my father did not.
The doctor let out a grateful sigh and quickly pulled my brother away from me into another room. Tom threw me a knowing glance and mouthed the words, " I'll tell you later." to me.
I couldn't do anything more except stand there in the hall. Hoping and waiting that the news wasn't too bad. That the news was that he just had a cold and he would get better in no time. But then again, when you had a cold, it didn't make you cough up blood, or go unconscious.
I didn't know what was going on. And that was the one sole thing that I hated most at the moment. I had been left out of a million things a million times, but this time, things actually mattered. All the other times, I had been able to shake off that unwanted feeling. The feeling that people give you when you're the only one standing in the middle of the room, and they stare at you from their corner, whispering to each other with nasty looks on their faces. But I couldn't shake it off this time. I couldn't shake of the knowledge that my father might die.
Thirty minutes later, my brother emerged from the room, his face which was normally calm bore tear stains. I stood still, waiting for the answer.
" Stroke."
My heart caught in my chest and I felt my eyes rolling up into my head. I tried to stay standing, but I couldn't. The last thing I remembered was Tom running towards me, his arms outstretched.
As a child, I always was the one who never could quite still enough, or meet up to the expectations of the rest of my family. My sister was exactly what I was not, and I hated her for it. My parents idolized, showering her with all the complements which I never would receive. They would whisper to her behind my back and when they laughed, they were always looking at me. She was gorgeous. With bright green eyes and long curly blonde hair, she had the smile of a queen. She had flushed pink skin that was flawless. Her eyebrows arched whenever she laughed and her red pouty lips only accentuated to it more. She even had the figure of a woman.
On the other hand, I was always a bit tall and gangly. I never did quite develop into that woman so many others had expected me to. But then again, you can't expect a flower to grow just by wishing on it. I had dark hair. A deep auburn mixed in with jet black. With pale skin and blue eyes, I was a bit frightening to look at. The contrast between light and dark threw most off and most of the time, they just averted their eyes. When I asked my mother why, she would just say that I was a very unique person and not like all the other little girls.
Yeah. All the other little girls that had their beautiful gold hair and bright eyes and fair skin. They looked as if they had been cloned a million times and scattered into different homes. All the other little girls. Like Ariel. Like my sister.
I hated her.
Compared to me, no one would be able to even tell that we were related. Compared to her, well lets just say, I couldn't measure up. Yet, that never stopped me. Her greatest goal was to one day get married. To fall in love with a handsome rich man who loved her equally. They'd settle down then have kids and her job from then on would be to stay at home and spend the rest of her days caring for the chores around the large country mansion.
Just the thought of getting married made me gag. Being tied down to only stay in the house and clean up after what my husband couldn't? It didn't seem like the ideal life for me. I wanted something more. Something that had no boundaries. Something. something. boundless.
And eventually, I got exactly what I wanted. I finally broke free from my family that had restrained me so long. Their idea of a proper lady was being forced into a corset, dressed up in garb meant to accentuate you doll-like appearance along with sitting still for hours at and end, trying to please some family so stuffed up with money, they wouldn't know the meaning of poor if it ran naked in front of them. Yes. I'm cynical. But I blame it on heritage. After all, I wasn't meant to live this life.
Sometimes I wonder if there's someone out there in this world, someone who felt they didn't belong. Someone that felt that they were needed at home. I would take their spot in a heartbeat. You may be thinking that I'm making a big deal out of nothing. A big deal about having to act all prim and proper. But it wasn't just that. I tried to deal with it. I truly tried. But you would feel a bit out of place if people sneered at you. Sneering at you whenever you make a mistake. I tried to hell, I tried.
I remember the time when I was around twelve. I still wasn't cooperating with anyone and my parents began to grow frantic. My sister had already discovered her newfound love for the opposite sex when she was my age. I was still too busy trying to figure out how I could run faster when wearing a dress that weighed half of what I did. This fact alone scared my parents half to death.
Mr. and Mrs. Black. My father a respected navy captain and my humble mother, the most renowned seamstress. I should have been grateful for what they have done for me. Giving me shelter, food, a place to live I guess for the past 17 years. But then again, I still wasn't happy. They never told me to my face, but I knew that they were pushing me towards marriage when I hit fifteen. I couldn't beat around the bush anymore. I didn't want to get married. I didn't want to live my life with some man who only was in the same house as me because 'things turned out this way'.
Things shouldn't have turned out the way they were. My father was continuously away now. First it started off with, " Oh. I am needed to sail over to Jamaica. There's been some mix up with the ship. The crew. Conflicts. I have to make sure everything's fine in matters."
We didn't take to it as anything. Just that he needed to run some errands down in Jamaica. He had gone their before and would come back fair and square. Port Royal was where he normally checked up on his beloved ship. His HMS Intrepid. So to us there wasn't any suspicion or any reason to become suspicious. Yet the only problem was we lived in Port au Prince. Pretty far off from Royal.
I hadn't lived in Port au Prince for my whole life. Just a year before, my father decided to move closer to where his main fleet, which would be situated and harbored at Port Royal, Jamaica. We left Britain by his ship and sailed for god knows how many weeks.
And whenever he did leave for Jamaica, it wouldn't just be a few days. It became weeks. It should have never taken that long. Gone for a week maximum. I don't even understand why I don't know why I never noticed, but whenever he came back, his cheeks were paler. He would be hushed and whenever someone attempted to talk to him, he would snap. I would know. I remember the day he came back, and I ran down the drive to meet him as he stepped from his carriage.
He seemed to have lost his energy and instead, his face was masked in gloom. It was odd, for he was not an old man. Quite young actually. Handsome I would venture to say. But he was different now. And I had not the slightest idea. His eyes were sunken into his face, with deep yet dark circles surrounding them. He looked withered, old, tired, and done through. He didn't hold himself like he used to, back straight, eyes always looking ahead and not worrying about what life threw at him. Now, he seemed crippled with weary. He averted his eyes from direct contact. His body was worn down and I was shocked to see how much he changed.
But I loved him anyways. I threw myself at him, bringing him into an embrace that I had been practicing for weeks, just for him. But his eyes gleamed with anger that I had never seen before. I mean well sure. I've seen him angry before, but this was new. His soft green eyes darkened and he shoved me away from him.
" Get off me Taryn!" he growled just before stalking away.
I wasn't given time to react. He had already disappeared into the house and I was left speechless, standing in the middle of the drive, wondering pitifully what I had did wrong. He was a changed man now. And for the worse.
The next day, we finally found out what was wrong. I hadn't even waken yet when I was jolted from by bed by a piercing scream. I woke bleary eyed and confused as I wandered out into the hallway. Wrapping my nightgown tight around me, I felt myself being shoved into the wall. Spinning around, I saw one of the maids tearing down the hall as if the Devil himself was after her.
" Excuse me." I muttered with a hint of annoyance in my tone.
She turned around only long enough to cover her mouth with her hand. Giving me a sad look, she whispered in a muffled voice, " Y-your father."
And with that, she disappeared into one of the rooms, letting out another scream.
" What about my father?!" I asked angrily, turning back around.
That was when I saw him.
My brother and two other men advanced slowly up the stairs, supporting a figure between them. My sister followed behind them silently, her hands knotted tightly in front of her. Suddenly, the shape stumbled and almost fell down backwards on the stairs, but the three men quickly caught him and carried his large yet flaccid form in-between themselves like a hammock. Getting closer, I suppressed a scream from myself as I pressed my hand to my mouth. My eyes widened in shock as I realized that that 'limp' form was my father. His heavy body hung limply between the three men carrying him up towards me. His pale grayish face hung backwards, looking like something straight from a horror story, slumped against my brother's arm. His mouth was open and blood dripped out from his bruised lip onto his chin. His eyes were closed but when he opened them for a split second, I saw that the whites had turned yellow and were streaked bloodshot. Each step they took up the stairs, her father's hand knocked against the banister in a consistent rhythm.
Clunk Clunk Clunk Clunk
I ran to his side and lifted his arm onto his chest. It seemed like the only thing I could have done at the moment. His eyes were closed but every so often he would cough loudly, forcing up blood. I looked up at my sister, frantic.
" What's happening? What happened to him? Ariel!" I yelled when she looked away from me.
" The doctor's coming miss," one of the other men said, as if it would comfort me. He threw me a comforting smile, but I only looked away in disgust.
When they finally laid him gently onto his bed, as I had made sure, I quickly pulled the blankets in around him. He was unmoving and I couldn't help but shiver visibly at looking at him. His eyes were closed and it seemed as if he had only gone to sleep. I felt my stomach wrench just at thinking such thoughts and I quickly turned away. The other men quickly left the room and the closed the door behind them, leaving me and Ariel to each other.
Giving my father a quick kiss on the cheek, I turned back to Ariel, tears streaming down my face.
" Ariel. what's wrong with him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ariel didn't answer for a while. She only looked down at her feet as she shuffled them constantly. Her brows furrowed with concentration, but I knew it was to try and change the subject. How could she change the subject now? I had just been woken up by a scream and proceeded to find my father half dead and half alive, the only thing keeping him on his feet was the physical support.
I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at me until he answered. She took my hand slowly as if it would soothe me, but I think it was more for her own comfort.
" I don't know Taryn. I really don't know," she whispered, her voice showing that she was every bit as surprised as me.
Unfortunate for him, I wasn't the kind to like riddles. Throwing an angry look at my father's shivering form then back at my petrified sister made me almost want to scream. Grabbing her wrist with my free hand, I pried her strong fingers off my hand. Throwing her hand back at her, I took a few steps back, furious.
" Ariel." I said in a low voice, my back heaving with every shaky breath I took. " Tell me what goddamn bloody happened."
She finally lifted his head with much difficulty and looked at me.
" I-I mean w-we. Yes. WE found him out on the terrace. He must have wanted to eat breakfast out there for we found his plate and the wine bottle broken beside him. But it seemed as if he had fallen from his chair. Something of that sort. But when we reached him, he was shaking. His whole body was shaking. But then he coughed once hard, bring up blood, and then he was still. He looked like he was going to die."
I gave her a hard look. My hands were curled up into tight fists, clutching my nightgown in my hands.
But as if to laugh the whole matter off, Ariel gave a small shrug.
" But its been happening before. As to say, he has been coughing a bit over the last couple months. This is the worst its going to be." she trailed off.
I couldn't believe how blind she was acting. Normally I would have agreed with her and laughed it off, but now was no time to joke around. It was my turn and I grabbed her wrist.
".Ariel." I hissed.
Just at that moment, the doctor walked in. He held a small bag with him. We both nodded in acknowledgment to him and quickly but respectfully left the room.
The maid who had waked me earlier was now trying to sneak past me, avoid my look. But I caught her a bit more roughly on the arm than I intended. She let out a small yip, but otherwise turned her frightened eyes away from mine.
" You know something about this." I growled.
She shook her head so hard that her bright blondish red curls bounced around her face. Her lips were pursed and for a short moment I was tempted to slap her silly until she answered. But then if I did, she would probably be to deliriously from it and not tell me the real truth. I held my hand back and spoke through gritted teeth.
" What is wrong with my father."
She whimpered slightly as she tried to twist out of my grasp.
" Miss. aah. you're hurting me," she whispered, her eyes lowered.
I wrenched her hand one last time as she fell to her knees. Lowering my face so that it was within inches of hers, I spoke calmly.
" Tell me."
She yielded.
" 'Tis a stroke, miss. 'Tis a stroke. I heard the doctor say sum about it."
I exploded into a rage.
" How would my father? MY FATHER! Get a stroke! He's healthy!"
" Do ye honestly believe that when he leaves. he leaves for Port Royal? Ever since he found out ye mum wasn't faithful, he's been drinking. It doesn't take forever to get to Royal miss. He goes to Tortuga."
My mind was swirling with everything I was learning. I couldn't take it in fast enough. But when I did, the poor maid, I think she was named Penny, was the one I took it out on.
" MY MOTHER IS NOT A WHOAR! SHE IS FAITHFUL! My father is NOT going to Tortuga! He is an honest man! Where are you finding all these lies?"
I took my free hand and backhanded her across the face. That was where I went too far. I had never been one to control my anger. Go ask Tom or Ariel. They have seen and experienced my anger countless times. I'm not saying that it is correct. I am just stating that I, for one, cannot control myself.
Penny broke down in tears. She tried to pull her hand away from my grasp, but I was holding on too tightly. Her bawling annoyed me, and so did the fact that what she said could possibly be true. I stumbled backwards into the wall again, freeing her arm. As I watched silently as she ran away sobbing, I tried to stay standing.
The wall behind me turned out to be a door, and it opened just then. Speak of the Devil eh?
I fell backwards into the room into had just been, but providentially, the doctor caught me in his arms and righted me.
" Miss. If I may speak to your brother on matter's concerning your father please.."
My eyes widened again with disbelief.
" My brother? MY BROTHER!" I shouted. " Why don't you tell me? OR WORSE! Go talk to my BLOODY SISTER!"
He retreated a few feet back away from my screaming.
" Miss. I do not believe that children of you age would understand how strong this situation happens to be. Maybe they will tell you. Just to inform you. Yes. But where might you brother be miss? This matter is urgent."
I stood there speechless. My mouth hung open as I gaped at him like a dead fish. I wasn't young. Or at least I wasn't young enough to not understand the severity of the situation. I couldn't answer him. I shut my mouth just for his sake. I wasn't quite sure the next thing I said would be civil.
Just then my brother appeared. It seemed as if he was always there when you needed him. Whether you wanted it or not. His face was almost as pale as my father's except he held the spark of life, which my father did not.
The doctor let out a grateful sigh and quickly pulled my brother away from me into another room. Tom threw me a knowing glance and mouthed the words, " I'll tell you later." to me.
I couldn't do anything more except stand there in the hall. Hoping and waiting that the news wasn't too bad. That the news was that he just had a cold and he would get better in no time. But then again, when you had a cold, it didn't make you cough up blood, or go unconscious.
I didn't know what was going on. And that was the one sole thing that I hated most at the moment. I had been left out of a million things a million times, but this time, things actually mattered. All the other times, I had been able to shake off that unwanted feeling. The feeling that people give you when you're the only one standing in the middle of the room, and they stare at you from their corner, whispering to each other with nasty looks on their faces. But I couldn't shake it off this time. I couldn't shake of the knowledge that my father might die.
Thirty minutes later, my brother emerged from the room, his face which was normally calm bore tear stains. I stood still, waiting for the answer.
" Stroke."
My heart caught in my chest and I felt my eyes rolling up into my head. I tried to stay standing, but I couldn't. The last thing I remembered was Tom running towards me, his arms outstretched.