The Faulty Camera in Our Minds

Time of Death: 8:27 AM.

Madeline didn't have to be told by the flat-lining heart monitor or the nurses covering her sister's lifeless body with the sheet: she felt the life slip away from Sarah's fingers, still clutching them as if her sister would still wake up.

The nurses had to pry Madeline’s thin fingers away from her emaciated sister’s, rushing the girl out of the room as the doctors entered and did their jobs, knowing there was nothing they could do to save her. Madeline was wailing without even realizing it, the tears pouring down her face while one of the nurses tried to console her.

Yet, there was no consolation. Sarah was the last person Madeline had: their parents passed away when Madeline was only five years old, and their grandma passed away almost immediately after Madeline graduated high school. Losing her older sister was an indescribable blow: the hole left by her departure wasn’t one that could be filled, no matter how Madeline tried. It hit her like a brick wall: she was alone. Really, truly alone. She didn’t have any family to fall back on, the friends she had in the past fell by the way side as the cancer invaded Sarah and everything in her sister’s life. Madeline had to navigate this on her own, a thought that terrified her more than anything.

Chest heaving, Madeline sunk into the chair as she tried to calm herself: everything felt hazy, her sister dead and her nephew now her sole responsibility. Her hands didn’t even feel like her own anymore, pawing away the salt from her eyes as she fought to regain her composure, knowing that she’d have to go out and tell Tyler that his mother was dead. When she finally found her balance, Madeline allowed her trembling legs to take her away from her sister’s body, slowly navigating the halls of the intensive care unit until she stood in the same doorway that she had walked through less than an hour before.

John’s eyes snapped to hers, instantly seeing they were red-rimmed and swollen from the tears that she had just shed. Madeline didn’t have to say anything: John only had to take one look at Madeline to know what had happened. He abruptly rose from his seat, setting Tyler down in the space he had just vacated before moving to meet Madeline.

The moment their bodies collided, Madeline clung to his thin frame, muffled sobs wracking her body. John tentatively wrapped his arms around her, unsure what he could do to comfort her at her most vulnerable moment. Madeline couldn’t have cared less about anything in the world in that moment, thankful that John was there when he was: the arms that were holding her at least provided a small amount of comfort given the circumstances. The weight gave out in Madeline’s legs, suddenly dropping the pair to the floor, all eyes on them as John clutched the distraught girl to his chest.

Tyler awoke to the commotion before him, startled and confused by the sounds escaping Madeline as she wept. He crawled off the chair, wobbling over to the entangled pair on the floor and wrapping his small arms around his aunt's neck, oblivious to the reason for her tears.

“Maddy, whewe's mama?”

Madeline pulled away from John and turned to the toddler, using every ounce of her willpower to not cry even harder while furiously wiping her eyes. Was Tyler able to sense what had happened? Some people always believed that you could feel a connection with your family, and if something happened to them you felt it too. If that was the case, then what did it feel like when someone died? Did it depend on cause of death? Madeline knew how she felt: she was no stranger to death, but she couldn’t imagine what Tyler was about to endure.

“Baby, Mama’s gone.” Madeline reached out, her soft voice trembling as she brushed the hair away from Tyler’s face. “Mama’s not here anymore.”

She watched the toddler’s face contort, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“When’s mama coming home?” He asked, fear in his eyes.

“She’s not baby. Mama’s in heaven now.”

John helplessly watched the scene unfold, shoulders slumped and glassy-eyed from his perch on the floor. His heart broke for the pair, the two-year old whose face scrunched and quivered at the realization he didn’t have a mom anymore and the twenty three-year old who was forced to accept that she lost her sister and best friend. The first cry escaped Tyler’s lips, the high-pitched noise drawing even more attention to the trio. The sound was all it took for Madeline to lose her composure again, embracing the toddler and letting the tears stream down her face, unable to make any more noise herself. Pulling away, she cupped the small boy’s face with her hands.

“I know it hurts, Ty Ty. But Mama’s not hurting anymore. Mama doesn’t have to take those pills and be sick anymore. Mama’s in a better place.”

Using her thumbs, Madeline wiped the tears from Tyler’s eyes before letting him bury his face in her chest, rocking him back and forth until sleep overcame him. Nothing felt real anymore: she felt like she was in some strange dream, like she was going to wake up and Sarah was going to be in their kitchen making pancakes and things would be back to how they were supposed to be: fine. John wrapping his arms around her felt unreal, his words a giant haze in her memory. She couldn’t even make out what he was saying anymore, her attention focused on trying to see through her clouded eyes and on trying to regain control of herself.

John didn’t even have to think about what he was doing, pulling her close and hanging onto her until she finally was able to speak.

“I think we should go home now.” Her voice had never sounded smaller, the defeat crystal clear.

“Let me drive you.” John rose, helping her up before digging his keys out of his pocket.

Madeline was too tired to reject his offer, barely nodding her head before moving towards the door. The drive home didn’t even feel real to her, John taking Tyler and putting him to bed while she simply sat at the foot of her own bed in shock. It didn’t matter if this had been months in the making, death was impossible to truly prepare for. She couldn’t accept that Sarah was gone, no matter how hard she tried. It just couldn’t be real. Their apartment couldn’t just be her apartment anymore. She couldn’t do life without her sister. She couldn’t do this on her own.

“You should really get some sleep.”

John broke the silence from behind her, worry written into his features. There were a hurricane of emotions traveling through him, concern for the shell-shocked girl in front of him being one of the primary feelings. She just sat there, so broken down. He just wanted to fix her, make her smile, just something that would relieve her of the weight she was carrying.

“This is dumb, but if you wouldn’t mind, can you just stay awhile? I don’t want to be alone…” Madeline trailed off, her voice shaking and stuttering.

“Of course,” John responded, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “It’s not dumb at all.”

John waited with Madeline until she couldn’t fight sleep anymore, the last forty-eight hours crashing down on her and leading her to a deep slumber. While he felt a little guilty for leaving the hospital, he knew that someone would call him if he needed to be there, but for now he knew that he was needed here.

The promise that John made to Madeline kept playing through his head, all the different ways in which he could help popping into his mind: babysitting Tyler, helping her with random tasks around her house, taking her out to have a fun night once in a while so she wasn’t stuck in a rut… he was almost surprised by how attached he had become to Madeline and Tyler in the span of two hours, knowing that if it had been anyone else he wouldn’t be in the position he was in now.

But then it hit him: Madeline was a childhood playmate and former classmate, but until now he had never seen someone so raw and honest and felt so vulnerable around someone, something that brought them together in a strange way. John was so used to being guarded, but with Madeline he didn’t even think about it: she was so open, so why shouldn’t he be? And on top of that, John didn’t want Tyler to grow up without the love and support he had. For whatever reason, John couldn’t bear the thought of Tyler growing up without two people there to support him every step of the way like he had. John knew it was up to Madeline from here on out to make sure Tyler got the love he deserved, but John only hoped that she would keep letting him in.

A couple hours later John was forced to go, Ross driving to Madeline’s apartment to pick up his older brother. Before he slipped away, he made sure to leave a note where she’d see:

”Madeline—

I’m sorry to leave early, but I’m needed at the hospital. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’d help. Please call me if you need anything. You don’t have to do this alone.

-John”

Underneath, he scribbled his phone number for her to use, hoping that she’d take him up on his offer and let him help her heal.

Slipping on his shoes, John gently pulled the front door shut before meeting his brother at the car. Ross sent him a small wave, John moving around the car to climb inside. Exchanging greetings, the pair rode in silence most of the drive back to the hospital, Death Cab for Cutie floating through the speakers as the car moved along.

“Have you ever been around someone and thought you knew them, then had this moment of clarity when you realize they’re so much more than you thought they were?” John posed the question, the unexpected events of the night weighing on them.

“What are you talking about?” Ross sent his brother a confused look, careful to stay focused on the road.

“It’s funny… I’ve been looking at Madeline for so long, but for the first time tonight I actually saw her.”