Seven
They kick me out of the hospital in the sixth day. I need a wheel chair due to the recent concussion and the healing rib. It does not hurt as much as I thought. The physical pain hurts less than the emotional one.
I don't let mom get me out of the hospital without seeing Hiccup first.
He is laid on the bed, sleeping. There are not so many tubes strapped on him, it is more like I was a few hours ago. I take a firm grip on the wheel chair arms before pushing myself upwards. The world spins for a moment before I get balance back on my feet.
The missing part bellow the knee of his left leg is covered in white bandages. I stare at it, feeling the tears forming behind my eyes. I take his hand, stroke his hair and collapse on a chair near his bed.
When he wakes up, I am a mess of tears, sobs and rage. But it stops all at once when I see his open eyes.
"Hey." He tells me.
I jump out of my chair to hold his body against mine. I breathe in his smell, now buried beneath the plastic smell of the hospital. I place a hundred kisses on his forehead, squeezing his hand, not really understanding that he is alive. I do not stop sobbing for a minute.
"I-I'm so sorry…" That is only phrase that I can form. I repeat it a thousand times, and it feels heavier every time I say it again. I feel his free hand on the back of my neck, also stroking my hair.
I don't know how long we stay like this. A nurse has come and wondered if she should separate us, but disappeared once again behind the glass/wooden doors.
"Jack." I hear Hiccup muttering my name against my neck. "It's alright." It sounds exactly like a lie but it is not. "It wasn't your fault."
I am still shaking over him, and I feel his fingers pressed against my cheeks, rubbing me with his thumbs. I still feel like I am losing him. He pushes himself upwards and settles himself better so he can hug me
tighter. I slip over his bed, and lay with him until I can control the sobs.
I visit Hiccup every time his parents are not around. His dad always comes here drunk. Even his cousin Snotlout comes here sometimes because his aunt asks him to. He does not care, and it makes me want to beat him.
Emma's funeral will be tomorrow. Today is Friday, and it is still snowing outside. Hiccup helps me by not asking me how I fell, or telling me it will be okay. The best thing he does is hug me when no one is around.
I brought his sketchbook yesterday. He makes hundreds of drawings, but now they are much more than just dragons. I see blood on his features. I feel all the sadness of his sketches. It hurts to look at them for too long.
It hurts to see his soul through the paper. Art shows itself in the most tragic way.
His mother appears today, holding a big paper bag on her hands. Hiccup's dad is apparently sweating, but not smelling like alcohol like he used to. He is definitely trying to be sober enough for Hiccup.
"I'll come back later…" I stand, ready to leave when Hiccup's mom stops me.
"No, stay. You've been here with him for so long, don't bother because of us." She gives me a gentile smile as the man near her groans something unintelligible. I let gravity drag me back to my seat. The woman walks towards me, then hugs me for a moment. "I am truly sorry for your sister."
I should feel something with the mentioning of Emma. Something else than sadness. Even rage would be better, enough, to fill the hole in my feelings right now.
I fake a smile at her.
She turns to her husband, sending him a deadly glare that clearly tells him to say something. He winks at me. They have no idea I want no kindness from this mam. They turn to Hiccup again, setting the package next to him.
"What is it?" He asks, his voice is not as weak as it was only yesterday.
"Open it and find out." Her mom is much gentler than I thought. Maybe is the fact that I am here. Everyone is always more when someone is watching.
With trembling fingers, Hiccup rips the impossible net of papers to unwrap his present. It takes him a few seconds before releasing a shining metal prosthesis.
He cries. Then both his parents hug him. I also record this moment in my memory. Far but close to Emma's screams.
