She awoke with a stomach that was hard, filled with frozen ice. The bloating of it made her take several short quick breaths that stabbed the expanding skin in sharp thrusts of pain. Cooped up in my bed, laying with her back against the brown sheets that were stretched across the bed that was shoved against the far wall in my bedroom. The blinds on my window were heavy fabric that I pinned up with thumbtacks to keep out any light that would impose me while I tried to sleep. A phone in the house rung, and I softly groaned, watcher her rolling over on her stomach and trying to ignore the pain in her bloated stomach. I was at home to watch my older sister, who I had awoken to find a bite on the stomach, puss flowing from it in waves, bandages tightly strewn to it. Her name was Ophelia, and she was twenty seven years old.

I got up slowly and warily watched her, the phone creating a shrill ringing in the house. I cradled my chin in my hand as I put the yellow hang on to my ear, the kitchen tile squeaking from rotting wood. Pure silence on the other line. Nothing. A breathy rasp came forth and I slowly lowered in from my ear and towards the cradle.

"Jamie!" Ophelia's groan rang through the house, then loud coughing came forth. I hung up the phone quickly, jogging towards my room at a fast pace. She was bended over, gagging, trying to get something out of her lungs or stomach. I sat down on the stool and lifted her slowly up, her eyes slowly cringing at the pain. Her body hunching over. My hand slowly rubbed her back.

"What did you want?" my hand moving her choppy hair away from her sweat soaked face.

She didn't answer, she began gagging heavily now. I grew shocked when she began coughing blood, It wasn't the scarlet liquid that was seductive in vampire movies, it was a bright red, only slightly dulled by my brown sheets, yet it was quite visible by the white bucket I used.

"That's it." I whispered, my throat closing up. I grabbed her arms as she yelled in pain, throwing an arm over my shoulder, I dragged her out towards the truck. Her feet dragged over the wooden floors, and blood trailed from her mouth.

"Please, stop." She groaned while I pushed her in the passenger seat, her hands cradling her injured stomach, she was in a sports bra and gym shorts. "I can't go… stop it." He teeth gritted in great pain that I couldn't even fathom to understand.

"No, we're going." I jumped to the other side getting into the passenger seat and starting the engine in quick motions, backing out and almost hitting a lone car down our street.

"Stop… he'll get mad.. stop."

I didn't.

He was handsome, I knew that much. Ophelia gushed on and on to me about him, telling me that she thought he was the one, thought that she finally would be able to escape from the deli for once. She mentioned that his face was scarred slightly, but she didn't care. It sort of scared me off, I judged mostly by looks first, before personalities. But honestly, these thoughts I thought, as soon as they came, they left like the wind in a rush to lunch.

"Jamie Erne?"

My head popped up from the waiting room, watching a nurse approach with straight blonde hair, her scrubs were tight and decorated with puppies.

"Yes?"

She looked down at the clipboard and crouched down to me, putting a hand on my knee. It made me uncomfortable, this reminded me of the time they told my Great Grandma died. It didn't affect me since I was so young, but now I'm… older, and more aware, especially for my sister.

"Ophelia was sent into surgery, and they're removing any infections from the wound on her stomach." She moved the clipboard slightly away from her breasts to look at once again. "She's stable at the moment. But this wound was not self-inflicted, so the police department are here to get a statement."

I started when she insinuated that Ophelia could try to kill herself. She wouldn't do that! Everything was turning around for her! I just.. she would never do that! What about that handsome man?

I barely noticed when the nurse left me, for I had my head in my hands. I just… why?! I shouldn't be doubting Ophelia, she never gave any indication that she wanted to die… why am I assuming now? What is wrong with me? Ophelia. She would never do this.. but this doubt, its flowing all through me, just because they think she had the thoughts for doing something like this.

Maybe I should try and find out if her man is somewhere around Beacon Hills. He must live close if she leaves the house often just to go and see him.

"Jamie Erne? I'm Sheriff Stilinski."

My head bolted upwards and I found a middle aged man looking at me in a police officers uniform. He kneeled in front of me just like the nurse, but he didn't reach out for any contact. Nothing to try and comfort me. My sister was dying, and everyone knew that. They just didn't want to tell me.

And for some reason, with the whispers, and not with them trying not to tell me, I just felt it in my gut. I wasn't a seer like those old fairy tales where everyone turns out alright just because they knew what happened with everything.

"Jamie? It's alright, everything will be fine."

No, I didn't think it would be. I don't think you know how the world works. At least, not in my eyes.

"Could you just.." He sighed. "Answer me?"

I sucked in a breath, and looked at him, his eyes were soft; and I recoiled at the bitterness my eyes must have been reflecting.

"Sorry." I muttered. "Just.." I moved my hand in a small motion. "Ask away."

The said man pulled out a notepad, and began those questions that just.. they seemed to trivial compared to the whole situation, the whole… big thing of this. Panic welled in my chest, but I didn't let it go, I held it down. Dad taught Ophelia and me that bottling things up sometimes is just what you have to do, and breaking down right now isn't going to help her.

"Do you know what happened to cause this?"

I shrugged. I really didn't know. "She just.. she left home last night fine, really happy. More so than usual. Then I woke up this morning, and she's screaming in pain in my ear. She ended up in my bed somehow, and I don't know why." I paused, gulping in a breath. "I have school in a week, I was staying home and getting all of my homework from summer done, I just," I groaned and let my head fall into my hands. "I don't know."

The man stopped scribbling on a notepad and patted my back, slowly getting up. "Is that all? She didn't do anything else that might…."

"I'll be sure to tell you." I interrupted quickly. There was nothing more that I could say to this man, nothing that would help Ophelia at the moment.

"If I find anything that could in any way be related to this, I will contact you immediately."

I looked up, was that revenge being slightly hinted at? I didn't want revenge, revenge was a nasty thing that would snap its jaws back onto you the moment you thought you were finished with it.

"Thank you sir."

And I proceeded to stare at the bleached tiles of a strange smelling hospital as he walked away, determined to find out what was the cause to this.

For a young girl such as I should never be caught in this kind of situation.

My head popped up yet again when a male nurse shook my shoulder, then quickly motioned for me to follow. I did so gladly and peered anxiously at the rooms that had nurses in them, and a few families simply visiting and bringing flowers. I was scared. I would not deny this fact. I wasn't ready to see her, what if she was on her death bed? What if she..?

"Her condition isn't great." The nurse interrupted me quickly. "But the hope is that she'll pull through. She's asleep right now, but she should get up soon. Feel free to stay the night here."

And as soon as he said that, he opened the door and ushered me inside, closing it behind me. The lights were dimmed since it had turned to night without my notice till I looked outside to see the stars glittering with a half moon. The shutters were drawn and the room was bathed in darkness besides a light with a dim light bulb at her bedside table.

She didn't look better. Her skin was pale, and her lips were chapped to flakes. Speckles ran from the edges of her mouth where blood had flown only hours ago from her lips. There was a steady beeping from the machine by her bed, and her eyelids moved rapidly from the dreams that occupied her brain.

I was tired, she was sick.

I was extremely tired, and she was very sick.

I was alive, and she was dying.

And she was Twenty-seven years old.

I pulled a stool with a small clatter to her bedside, picking at the thin and scratchy linen that was draped over her body in a neat way. I rumpled the edge a little bit, seeing a stray string that allowed me some small comfort that this building… no room, was not perfect. Pulling her hand in my two, I examined it carefully, it was pale as was the rest of her body. But her veins. I pulled my face closely to it, watching it with a precision I did with my homework yesterday. Blue veins, they contrasted harshly with her skin and seemed to pop out. Even the tiny ones.

She was… dying really, I've accepted the fact that she is, and there will be no other roads in which she can take to get off this path. As Dad would say, abandon her at the roadside, for there is nothing left in a Lost Soul. For a Lost Soul cannot give directions when they themselves cannot give direction for themselves.

It was the middle of the night that she woke up. She didn't offer last words, she simply smiled at me and looked out of the window that showed the starry skies with the half moon seemingly mocking her with its Cheshire grin.

Although, when she heard the machine slowly sweep to very slow beats, panic arouse on her face. And that was what scared me the most. I thought she would go peacefully, alone, rocking quietly with a content smile on her face. But she weakly tried to struggle, and as soon as she did, I tried to offer calmness in her worry. Small tears slipping down my cheeks.

'please don't leave me.' I wish I had whispered, I wish. For the next moment, I was being dragged out by yelling male nurses, and women trying to calm Ophelia down, the beeping slowly turning to a static noise. I tried to yell and get away from them, and this caused such a disray that many people stepped out to watch. But I couldn't see anything, my straight brown hair was blocking my eyesight, blinding my rage to find my sister in her last moments. But when that static reached my pounding ears. I just knew it was over.

I was truly, and utterly alone.

Fun fact, I only know why blood is bright red because I work cows that tend to bleed when their horns are cut off! There's the fact of the day!

Another fun fact! I also know how to cauterize a wound too!

Some big obvious foreshadowing is thrown into here too, it would hit you with a frying pan if you haven't seen it. (Sorry, just took english finals, all the foreshadowing and allusions make my brain automatically pick them out now.)

My fanfiction ideas are bursting off the walls, and here is one of the many. *bounce bounce*

Have a nice time watching new episodes and have fun! This'll start at the first season so no worries about spoilers.. unless you haven't watched it.. which you shouldn't even be reading this… buttttt, I do the same things with tons of things, walking dead? Knew everything that was gonna happen because of fanfics.

-shrugs-

Its okay sometimes, I could probably recite the entire lines of Stiles and Scott in the beginning of Season One. Fanfiction just does that to people.

Well then! Have a nice one, and.. uh.. eat ice cream, it's good for ya.