I stared straight ahead as my mother sped to the hospital. We rushed in to the emergency room.

"Yes?" asked the receptionist at the desk calmly.

"We're here for Rory Hennessey," my mother gasped out. "Can we" pant. "See him now?" pant, pant.

"Um, hold on," murmured the receptionist. She typed in Rory's name and glanced at the computer. "Well, right now he's in surgery," she said.

"Surgery!" I gasped. My eyes widened in shock. I glanced at Mom. She was flabbergasted. "Exactly how bad are his injuries?" she demanded.

I gripped my mother's arm protectively and stared at the receptionist, waiting for her response. She shrugged. "I don't know. You'll have to ask the doctor that."

A wave of anger rushed through me. "My brother," I yelled, "Is hurt, and all you can do is shrug?!?"

My mother grabbed me by one arm and Kerry by the other, and gently dragged us over to the chairs in the waiting room.

"When are we going to find out if he's okay?" asked Kerry. Her voice trembled.

"We have to wait for the doctor, honey," said my mom. She stared off, into a corner of the room.

I swallowed and stared at my hands. I couldn't believe that the last thing that I'd said to my brother was that he should "go play in traffic." Great, just great.

It brought me back to when my father had died. The last words that I had said to him were that I hated him.

I looked at my mother. "Mom," I whispered. "I didn't mean it."

"What?" asked my mother.

"I - I said 'go play in traffic.' But I didn't mean it! And now he's hurt, from a car, and maybe it's my fault, maybe I jinxed him or something."

"Oh, Bridge," murmured my mother. She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me back and forth protectively. "Honey, Rory knows you didn't mean it. Sweetie, he just loved to torment you, and get a rise out of you. He got a kick out of that comment, you know he did."

I kicked the toe of my sneaker against the linoleum. "I guess," I mumbled, but I wasn't convinced.

Kerry was staring at me. "You told him to go play in traffic, Bridget? Oh, my God! I can't believe you!" She turned her back on me.

"Kerry, honey," said my mom, reaching her arms out to her. "Bridget didn't mean it, and you know it. It could have been you, or I, or anyone who said it."

"But it wasn't," snapped Kerry defiantly. "It was spoiled little Bridget, always has to get her own way Bridget. Are you happy now?" She screamed this last part. "Are you happy that our little brother is here in a freakin' hospital bed because you wished it upon him? Hope you're happy, Bridge."

Tears were pouring from my eyes now. I stood up and ran.

I ran out of the hospital, ran across the road and into the park. Then, I sat on a bench and cried and cried.

As I sat, I watched the cars go by. Some were driving the limit, some were driving slower, but most were driving too fast. How did it feel, getting hit by a car? I wanted to scream at them to slow down, to watch out.

My brother was fourteen years old. (A/N: Not really sure of their ages). Fourteen. He didn't deserve to endure such pain.

I stood, and like a sleepwalker, shuffled slowly to the edge of the pavement. If Rory has to suffer, so should I, I thought determinedly. I extended a foot and placed it on the pavement. I had to wait until the timing was right. I wanted to get the major effect. I wanted to be the one to suffer. Maybe even ... end it all. This thought was a shock to me. I'd never had suicidal thoughts before, but then again, I hadn't singlehandedly wished an accident upon my brother before, either.

I pulled my other foot down onto the pavement as well. Cars were going out of their way to avoid me now.

I don't know how long I stood there like that. All I knew was that suddenly, Mom was holding me tightly and whispering in my ear.

I gazed off into the distance as she pulled me gently to the bench. "Bridget, Baby, can you hear me?"

Kerry was rubbing my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bridge. I was out of line. I know you care. I know you didn't mean it. Come on, talk to me! Please."

I closed my eyes. "I'm fine," I managed to utter.

My mother was staring at me. "Honey, please don't do that again," she begged. "I've lost your father, and now I might lose my ... my son." Her voice choked up. "I couldn't bear to see anyone else whom I love in pain."

I felt a wave of shame, suddenly, for wanting to die. What about Mom, and Kerry? What about Grandpa, and CJ, and Grandma?

"Where are Grandpa and CJ?" I asked, taking a deep breath. I was feeling calmer. It's not my fault, I told myself over and over.

"Well, I just called them," my mother said softly. She still had her arms around me, and her head was buried in my hair. Kerry was patting me on the back with one hand and Mom on the other. "Grandpa was gone to some poker game with his friends, and CJ was out somewhere, as usual. Anyway, I got a hold of both of them, and they're on their way."

I wiped my eyes and untangled myself from my mother's embrace. I reached over and hugged Kerry, who had the job of comforting both Mom and I, even though I knew that she was hurting as well.

"I can't believe that you would do something like ... like you were going to do," murmured Kerry. She looked at me with her pain-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, Bridge. I made you feel like crap, and I know it."

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it, Ker. It's okay. Let's just go back to the hospital and see if the doctor is out yet."

So that was what we did, the three of us holding hands as we crossed the road, trying to stay strong for one another.

A/N: Sorry, I know that Bridget seems a little out of character, but I would imagine that after 'wishing' it on her brother (as she sees it) and then getting yelled at by her sister, she would feel quite crappy. Don't worry, it't not going to be one of those angsty fics in which she cuts herself or something. Well, review! XD Not sure when I'll get the chance to update but I hope it won't be toooo long!