It was all around her. Noise and heat and grime. She could not see it or hear it, but she could feel it. Acutely, in fact. It applied pressure on her skin, made her claustrophobic in her own body, and forced her eyes open. A bright blue dome in front of her. A seatbelt still clutching her firmly, and the seat half-buried in sand. It was impossible for her to process all of these tiny bits of information. So instead she let them slide into her understanding piece by piece.
And then the pain shattered the barriers that shock had put up. She could feel it pulsing in her neck, just below her ear. Her fingers trembled as she raised them to feel for the pain. Cautiously, she felt her way to the source, and withdrew in horror as her fingers brushed the sharp certainty of metal. Dug beneath her skin. How deep she could not estimate, and she wasn't about to either.
Instead she opened her mouth in an attempt to scream. Her vocals were muffled, though, drowned out by the other screams which abounded in that clear azure sky.
- - -
Even the drone of the blowdryer could not overcome the argument taking place downstairs. Casey flicked her hair and rolled her eyes at the reflection which mimicked her movements. She tried not to listen, but her mother's voice at nearly dog-whistle pitch was hard to ignore.
"Jackie! You're never home! When you come to visit, you leave a few hours later! Have you no sympathy for your mother?"
It was true, what she was saying. But Jack was busy. He was a doctor- what did her mother expect? Casey switched off the blowdryer and convinced herself she hadn't done so just because she wanted to hear what Jack had to say. Nevertheless, his calmer tone drifted up the stairway and into her little bathroom.
"Please, Mom. It's been a hard couple months at the hospital. You know I would rather be here than at that shit-hole apartment."
"Jackie! See what happens when you leave your mother's home? You start talking like that. And you look so skinny. What have you been eating? Take-out, I'd suppose."
"Now you're just nagging."
Casey gasped mid-eyelash-curling, and took up the mascara, clutching it to her breast like a totem. She quickly exhaled when she heard the sobs.
"Oh, this is what I deserve. I raise you right, and you treat me like your father does. Just up and goes, and you're becoming just like him."
"I'm not going to listen to this, Mom. Really. Thanks for breakfast. Everything was delicious."
The front door began to creak open when she heard slippered feet patter quickly to the foyer. The voices suddenly grew low, and Casey was forced to put down her cover-up and move to the top of the stairs to catch the conversation.
"Jackie. I'm begging you. Stay one more day. Your sister is sick. You haven't even said hello. Please. I need you to help me with her."
Casey froze. The muscles in her limbs turned rigid and her eyes narrowed instinctively. Defensive posture.
"What?"
The anger in his voice had suddenly been reduced.
"She's sick Jackie. Real sick."
"I. AM. NOT." Not one of them had been prepared for this response. Not even Casey herself. The words had jumped from her throat and left her feeling raw. Her mother's eyes were wide with surprise, looking up at her daughter. It suddenly occured to her that this wasn't the mother from her baby pictures. This mother's face was drawn and sad. But it was the look on Jack's face that made her sink slowly to the floor. The way his face contorted.
The way he bit back disgust.
- - -
"Casey, Casey. I need you to just calm down, okay? I'm going to fix it. It isn't that bad." This was standard doctor technique. A habit he had picked up at the hospital and had worked its way into the rest of his life. Talking over and over to comfort the patient. She couldn't complain. It worked. Her body grew lax and she whimpered, her eyes locking with his.
As he carefully felt around the metal piece, she studied his eyes. They were hazel, like her own, and the only testament to the fact that the same blood flowed through both of their veins. Like their father's.
"Hey, Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened?"
Her brother offered a tiny hint of a smile and shrugged his broad shoulders. He looked her squarely in the eyes, and then began to rip off a section of his shirt. Bandages. How thrifty.
"Alright. You ready for me to take this out?"
"I will smack you if it hurts."
"I'll tell Mom if you do." A tiny giggle escaped her chapped lips. He would never betray her to their mother.
"Alright, alright. Just do it you big bully."
She braced herself for the pain, but the blood she had not been expecting. It spurt out into her face and she cringed as Jack bound it tightly.
"It isn't deep. You'll be fine, I promise. And you can give me that smack later. But right now, promise me you'll stay here. There's a lot of hurt people. I don't want you to get lost."
She nodded. She hadn't planned on moving. But how lost could she get, anyway?
