Issues

My eyes opened and I stretched to wake myself up, my bones cracked and I looked around examining my surroundings.

Lyle was awake and sitting up on her bed, she skimmed through the channels on the TV.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” I commented making her look at me.

“Yeah, they gave me the Methadone while you were sleeping.”

I nodded.

“That’s good.”

“Ugh!” She sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I jumped up and rushed to her side worried she was in pain.

She looked at me with one eyebrow raised and started to laugh softly to herself.

“What’s so funny?” I straightened up.

“You, nothing’s wrong I was just annoyed there was nothing on TV.” She shrugged and I sat back down.

“Oh,”

“I’m bored,” she sighed and I chuckled.

“I think I liked you better in pain.” She pouted and threw her pillow at me.

“Hey, that’s not nice.”

“Neither is what you said,” she grumbled.

We both feel into a silence.

“What do you play?” she broke it after a minute.

“What?”

“You said you were a musician, what do you play?” I was about to answer when a thought crossed my mind.

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” I smirked.

“Oh really?” she asked and I nodded.

“Honestly.” I said and she shrugged.

“What’s your question?”

“How old are you?”

“16, now answer mine.”

“The drums, where’s your family?”

“Don’t have none, you in a band?”

“Yes, who was taking care of you before?”

“Mom, what’s your band name?”

“Escape The Fate, where is she now?”

She paused and I saw a blank expression fall over her face; she was shutting me out again and I knew it.

“She’s dead, guy who stabbed me killed her,” she looked down at her hands before grabbing the remote again and turning towards the TV.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” I said softly and she shrugged.

“Ts’alright,” She mumbled.

The room fell into another silence and I wanted to break it, just like I wanted to break her walls.

“My mom and dad divorced when I was little,” I said and she turned to me with raised eyebrows.

When she didn’t say anything I continued.

“I used to have a little brother; he died when I was about 10. We were at the park with my dad and he ran into the street when we weren’t looking. My mom always blamed my dad for his death and it tore apart their marriage.” I finished.

“Why are you telling me this?” I looked up to see Lyle looking at me with tears in her eyes.

“I have nothing to hide from you,” I shrugged and she looked at her hands again.

“I lied,” She admitted.

“About what?”

“Everything… I’m 15 years old and I remember everything that happened that night.”