Status: Finished.
Paper Cranes
Chapter Two
Elizabeth
"A little to the right," I said, "No, not that far!"
My older brother, Micheal, always came on the first of every month to hang up the paper cranes I created.
"That's perfect!" I said, forging a happy giggle.
"Any more left?" He asked, coming down from the stool. I glanced into my lap and grinned half-heartedly.
"Nope!"
I watched as Micheal straightened out his white pinstripe dress shirt and his red tie.
"Lizzie, I've gotta get back to work," he wrapped his arms around me, "I'll see you later."
He smiled at me. I could tell that he wanted it to be sincere, but seeing me with tubes in my nose and arms made him want to frown too. I could see it in his eyes. But it wasn't just sadness. He pitied me.
"Micheal," I sighed, "Don't look at me like that."
Micheal smile faltered, obviously confused. "Look at you like wh-"
I stopped him before he could finish his question.
"Don't pretend like you don't know. That sympathetic look you make. The one you cover with a mask of happiness. If you want to smile at me, truly smile at me, then do it. If you can't bring yourself to be sincere, then don't bother."
"Lizzie, I-"
"Please go."
"But-"
"Please!"
He picked up his jacket in the corner, before heading towards the door.
"Oh, and Micheal," I called to him. He turned. "Thank you. For everything."
This time he smiled. It was faint, but not forced or used as a cover up. It was real, and that's all that mattered.
"I'm going to leave this door and the windows opened so you can get some fresh air," he told me before disappearing around the corner.
Brendon
"Aunt Fay, can you hear me? It's Brendon."
"Brendon, she can't!"
"Shut up, Ryan! Aunt Fay!" I desperately shook the woman. She kept still, lacking even the smallest signs of response.
"Brendon, she's in a coma!" my mother yelled at me through her tears.
"I think it's best if you go out in the hall, son," my dad said, putting a warning hand on my shoulder. I quickly stood, forcing the chair to the floor. With that I made my exit.
They expected me to calm, did they? Collected? That woman on that hospital bed was like my second mother! She was my second mother! She's in a coma, and they want me to be calm and collected?
I kicked and punched the wall in frustration. Tears pooled in my eyes, but I refused to let them overflow. What was I supposed to do now?
I found myself mindlessly walking.
That's when I realized that I wanted to escape.
A strong breeze swept through my hair, a sound, like rustling paper, met my ears.
I turned, only to be amazed. I've never seen anything like it before.
"A little to the right," I said, "No, not that far!"
My older brother, Micheal, always came on the first of every month to hang up the paper cranes I created.
"That's perfect!" I said, forging a happy giggle.
"Any more left?" He asked, coming down from the stool. I glanced into my lap and grinned half-heartedly.
"Nope!"
I watched as Micheal straightened out his white pinstripe dress shirt and his red tie.
"Lizzie, I've gotta get back to work," he wrapped his arms around me, "I'll see you later."
He smiled at me. I could tell that he wanted it to be sincere, but seeing me with tubes in my nose and arms made him want to frown too. I could see it in his eyes. But it wasn't just sadness. He pitied me.
"Micheal," I sighed, "Don't look at me like that."
Micheal smile faltered, obviously confused. "Look at you like wh-"
I stopped him before he could finish his question.
"Don't pretend like you don't know. That sympathetic look you make. The one you cover with a mask of happiness. If you want to smile at me, truly smile at me, then do it. If you can't bring yourself to be sincere, then don't bother."
"Lizzie, I-"
"Please go."
"But-"
"Please!"
He picked up his jacket in the corner, before heading towards the door.
"Oh, and Micheal," I called to him. He turned. "Thank you. For everything."
This time he smiled. It was faint, but not forced or used as a cover up. It was real, and that's all that mattered.
"I'm going to leave this door and the windows opened so you can get some fresh air," he told me before disappearing around the corner.
Brendon
"Aunt Fay, can you hear me? It's Brendon."
"Brendon, she can't!"
"Shut up, Ryan! Aunt Fay!" I desperately shook the woman. She kept still, lacking even the smallest signs of response.
"Brendon, she's in a coma!" my mother yelled at me through her tears.
"I think it's best if you go out in the hall, son," my dad said, putting a warning hand on my shoulder. I quickly stood, forcing the chair to the floor. With that I made my exit.
They expected me to calm, did they? Collected? That woman on that hospital bed was like my second mother! She was my second mother! She's in a coma, and they want me to be calm and collected?
I kicked and punched the wall in frustration. Tears pooled in my eyes, but I refused to let them overflow. What was I supposed to do now?
I found myself mindlessly walking.
That's when I realized that I wanted to escape.
A strong breeze swept through my hair, a sound, like rustling paper, met my ears.
I turned, only to be amazed. I've never seen anything like it before.