Patient Twelve

Chapter Eight

 Ben played another classic black-and-white movie. It was a Marilyn Monroe comedy that I had never seen before. He dozed off halfway through the movie. When it finished, I turned off the television. Ben's elbow was against the armrest, and his head was in his hands. I always hated waking people, so I let him sleep.

I kept the blanket wrapped around myself as I walked across the hall to the bedroom. I slipped into the bed and drifted off to sleep.

--

There was a slam, and my eyes flew open. I saw my sister, Marcy, dragging her feet across the kitchen floor. Her blue robe was wrapped around herself, her dark hair tied messily on top of her head, and her slippers on her feet. She yawned as she opened up the fridge. The door separated the two of us.

"Marcy," I said.

She leaned down and grabbed the jug of orange juice. She turned and picked her glass off the counter.

"Marcy, look at me," I said.

She poured herself a glass of juice. She turned to look out the window above the sink. I looked down at myself to see I was in my pajamas.

Someone let out a deep breath, and I raised my head. My mom was shuffling into the kitchen. She ran her hand through her short hair. She had on a large sweater and a pair of jeans.

"Good morning, Marcy," she said.

She pulled out a chair and sat at our small kitchen table. Marcy turned around so that she was leaning against the counter.

"You look tired," Marcy said.

"I can't sleep since Diana came back from the hospital," she said. "I keep worrying."

"Mom, she'll learn to adapt."

"I heard her get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. The poor thing was bumping and walking into everything."

I gasped for air, and my chest burned. My muscles felt like they were tightening, and I struggled to breathe.

Mom let out a cry before burying her head in her hands. Marcy set down her glass and wrapped her arms around Mom. I tried to take a step closer, but I was stuck to the floor.

"I miss my girl," Mom cried. Marcy rubbed her back. Marcy's tears were spilling down her cheeks. She dug her teeth into her lip to try and control herself.

A thud came from above me, and I listened as the uneven footsteps walked around the house.

"We need to stop," Marcy said. "Diana can't know that we've been crying. She's already upset enough about this."

Mom pulled away. She sniffled as she wiped her tears away. Marcy went back to her glass of orange juice. I tried to lift my feet off of the floor, but they were glued down. I wanted to wrap my Mom in my embrace when I watched her lip quiver. She squeezed her eyes shut as she fought back the tears.

"Good morning, Di," Marcy said.

I looked to see myself standing in the doorframe. I was wearing my favourite concert shirt, and my hair was tied back. My hands were out in front of me as I tried to make my way into the kitchen. My eyes were now replaced with two hollow craters. My eyes appeared to have been dug out and left behind two black holes. The black from my eyes spread like vines across my face. Darkness branched into my temple and ran down past my chin.

I pulled at my feet again in an attempt to free them. I glanced down before I felt my heart drop in my chest. The veins in my arms were darkening and crawling up my limbs.