Suffocation.

I spent Thanksgiving in the hospital with the best team of doctors, Toby and my estranged father, step mom and their family. I had met them all before, when Melanie was first born which was only a few months after Toby was born. Bobby was twelve and Daphne was about to turn five. They are all grown up now, after twelve years of no contact we sit in my comfy hospital room, staring at one another.

The trach tube was removed and I was working with a speech therapist to strengthen my vocal cords but I wished that I still had the piece of plastic lodged in my throat so I could have an excuse not to talk.

I swirled my spoon in the puddle of gravy that was on top of my cold mashed potatoes. I was still on a soft food only diet, but I didn't mind. I wasn't in the mood to eat.

"The funeral arrangements are all finished. The viewing will be this Saturday and the funeral will be Sunday. The funeral house wanted it to be earlier but I told them that even then it'll be pulling teeth with these doctors to let you out of their watch," My dad said breaking the silence.

I looked at him. I was glad that I didn't get any his large nose and receding hairline. I have his eyes though, a pale teal color that reminds me of waves. "Okay," I muttered hoarsely.

"Keep drinking water sweetie," my dad's wife, Denise said to me in an overly sweet voice.

I rolled my eyes and pushed my paper cup that was still full of water further away from me. She gave a small sigh and threw a look to my dad for help.

"If all the tests come back good, Doctor Kirby said that we could transfer you to a different hospital."

"What hospital?"

"Greenwich."

"As in Greenwich Connecticut, like where you live?"

"They have an excellent physical therapy program."

"Why would I go there?" I asked before begrudgingly taking a sip of my water.

"It'll be close to home and you'll need the therapy."

"Close to home? It'll be like one thousand miles away from home."

"Lennon, you don't think you're staying here do you?" My dad asked, looking at me.

I finally make eye contact with him after avoiding it for so long. "Where else would I go? I'm not going to live with you."

"Yes you are. Denise is leaving with the kids tomorrow to make sure yours and Toby's room gets set up in time. We already have movers packing up your stuff."

"No," I protest.

"This isn't up for discussion. You're going to love it there."

"Toby?" I looked at my small twelve year old brother who was sitting in the corner next to Bobby. When I called his name he looked up at me. "You don't want to leave either right?"

He shrugged, "I don't see why not."

"Why not? Because our life is here."

"Not anymore," he said softly. Bobby put his hand on Toby's back to comfort him.

I didn't want to say it but Toby had a point. Our mother was dead; there was nothing left for us in Huntsville, Alabama.

*

Five states and nine hundred and fifty-one miles separated Alabama and Connecticut. Fifteen days later I was checked out of the hospital and given the green light to fly. I still had to be wheeled around in a wheel chair due to my fractured collarbone and the figure eight sling that I was currently sporting.

I got weird looks from the people at the terminal as Toby wheeled me around and my dad carried our carry-on luggage. I tried not to pay any attention to them as the flight attendant called for the people that need help boarding; this was me.

Toby wheeled me all the way to the airplane where I had to ditch the wheelchair and get out a cane that I could use to hobble to our seats. Thankfully my dad had requested the seats be towards the front of the plane so I didn't have to walk far, but that meant I had further to walk if I had to pee.

The rest of the people began to fill the seats of the plane around us. Across the aisle sat a younger girl and a mother. She looked at me and smiled then noticed my cane and became confused.

"My grandpa has one of those because he's old. You're not old though," she told me as the flight attendant went over the rules of the plane.

"Yeah that's because I got shot and now I have a metal stick in my bone," I told her and watched her and her mother's face quiver in fear.

"Lennon," my dad says sternly. I laugh lightly, put my seat belt on and close my eyes to prepare for takeoff.

*

One connecting stop in Georgia, seven hours, and a short car ride later, the stars are shining brightly overhead as my dad pulls up to a large iron gate that opens when he pushes a button on his steering wheel.

I'm amazed by the sheer size of the house in front of me. It was mansion size. My small one story, three bedroom house could easily fit in the garage.

Denise, Daphne, Melanie, Bobby and another lady who I assumed is Bobby's fiancée were there to greet us in the kitchen.

"Welcome home!" Denise smiled as she held up and sheet cake with red writing of what she just said on it.

I used the cane and counter top for support as I slid into a waiting chair for me. Even though I had been sitting all day, the chair was very welcoming.

"Lennon, Toby, this is my fiancée, Francesca," Bobby smiled broadly, motioning to the unknown girl with the wild black curls and tanned skin.

"Call me Frankie. I have no clue what my mom was thinking when she named me Francesca," she laughed slightly.

I gave a small chuckle. People always ask me how I got my name; Lennon. Both of my parents are Beatles fans and my mom even got to meet John Lennon once before he died. She was only four and was with her own parents but she says that is what her first memory was.

*

We ate cake and I took some of the pain medication that Doctor Kirby prescribed for me before trading my chair for my wheelchair. My dad and Denise showed Toby and I around the first floor of the house before showing me my first floor bedroom.

"I figured that you'd have problems with stairs so we moved the guest room upstairs," Denise said turning on the light while my dad wheeled me into the room. "You have your own bathroom and there's a screen door to get to the pool but you won't need that."

I looked around the room; it smelled like it had been freshly painted a shimmering gray color.

"The walls are glitter paint. Melanie picked it out, but Toby said you liked the color. He also said you like The Beatles. I should have known. All of your records are over there," she pointed to a black bookshelf that contained mine and my mom's records as well as books from home. "We got you a laptop to help with homework; it's already connected to the wifi and ready for use."

"Thanks," I tell her.

"I just want you to feel at home," Denise said with a sad expression plastered on her face. "Everyone's bedroom is upstairs but if you want Frankie can sleep in the living room if you need any help. She's a nurse."

I shake my head; I didn't want anyone's help. I just wanted to fall into bed and let the pain medication consume me.

"Okay sweetie, we'll see you in the morning," Denise said leaving the room first.

"Love you, Kiddo," my dad said following her out.

Toby waited until they left the room completely before letting a few tears slide down his cheeks. I hugged him the best I could with one hand. I run my fingers through his thick hair, softly detangling his curls. Toby made sure not to hug me too tight as my ribs were still broken. I let tears slip down my cheeks as well. We didn't have to pretend to be strong in front of each other; we both lost our mom that night.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Toby asked.

I nod and he lets go of me to change into pajamas. I didn't change, I didn't too. My camouflage sweatpants and tank top that I wore on the plane would work for sleeping.

I sat on the bed and propped my cane against the black nightstand. In a few weeks when my collarbone was healed I would be able to use crutches and that would help me walk a lot easier.

The pain medication was almost in full affect when Toby came back into the room and climbed into bed.

"Lennon?" He whispered, reaching out and grabbing my hand. "I'm glad you're not in the hospital."

"I have to go back tomorrow," I yawned.

"I know but I wasn't allowed to see you in the ICU and when I slept I had nightmares."

"What about?"

"Your body," Toby said in a small, frightened voice.

Chills were sent down my body. Toby had been the one that saved my life, really. Our mom made us take CPR and First Aid classes at our YMCA just in case we ever needed it. He made a tourniquet out of his bed sheet and wrapped it around my thigh to stop the bleeding from the wound on my leg. Toby covered my shoulder with some of the bed sheet as well as the hole in my chest and that's where he applied pressure and began rescue breathing until the EMT told him he could stop.

My mom was right; she raised such a strong son.