Help

twenty-two

F L O R E N C E

My room is too dark.

My eyes burn from exhaustion.

My bed is drenched in sweat.

Glancing at my digital clock next to my bed I see that it is two in the morning. I can't fall asleep and if I do I will wake up fifteen minutes later anyways.

My day has been too long. I woke up in the hospital, came home, fought Massimo and Emilio the whole way before dinner because I had to take an insulin shot—I took it, and I cried. We ate dinner. Then we watched a hockey game on TV and they checked my insulin levels every five minutes with the stupid machine on my arm.

I pretended to be asleep when they came up to my room a couple hours later to give me my before bedtime shot. They let me off the hook just for tonight after checking my levels.

Majority of my day was spent sitting around listening to them talk about diabetes, hockey, and dinner plans. They made me a personal grocery list for my new diet. Everyone in the house is going on it so I am not alone. But why's should they have to suffer? An exercise chart was put together by Lucien and Dominic. They added sparkles. They looked proud. I couldn't smile for them, my emotions just wouldn't allow it. So I said a quick thanks and left the room.

I am really tired of shitty things happening to me.

I got so sick from all of their hovering that I went to my room before ten pm. I watched a Disney princess movie, took a shower, and then had three separate naps. I wanted to be alone then, but I really don't want to be alone now.

I want Massimo.

Debating this for over an hour I make my decision. Carefully, I swing my legs over the side of my bed. Flicking on my lamp I search for my stuffy. He's laying on the floor, I must've kicked him off the bed. I grab my fluffy blanket, pick up my squishmallow and swipe my water bottle off my nightstand.

I tiptoe down the hallway, it's dark but the sconces provide a small yellow glow, just enough for me to see.

I have never been in Massimo's room before. I have only been in Dominic's, and Lucien's if you count standing at the doorway as being in his room. I haven't dared ventured over to Massimo's or Emilio's. They both work so hard, all day long. Why would I want to disturb their sleep for a silly nightmare?

Although Massimo and I are good now. There are times when I forget who he is. I forget that he isn't my nice, comforting, older brother that I know would be there for me the second I ask. Sometimes, and damn my mind for thinking this, but sometimes I still see him as the man who didn't utter a word to me when I first came home. I forget the warm smile, all I see is the stone cold eyes, the pressed together lips, his mannerisms calm, calculating, and unpredictable.

So standing outside this door I cannot help but hesitate. My stance is uneven and my stupid brain is firing orders at me to run back to my room. The floor boards creek as I sway side to side. Debating.

Why can't I just knock? He told me he's there for me whenever I need him. So why wouldn't he be now?

A moment of hesitation passes when my arm lifts to knock on the door and when my knuckles make contact with it.