The Gang Leader's Shorty

Chapter 18

Luke remains unconscious in the hospital and so Cole and I juggle schoolwork, therapy, housekeeping and jobs with visiting Luke at the hospital. However, neither of us mind since Luke is in this state because he was trying to save me from our father. Speaking of which, I have not grieved at all. Cole rambles on at me about the fact that it's perfectly understandable for me to feel despondent over his death, which only made me feel all the more worse about the fact that I do not feel one ounce of regret towards his death. 

"What if I lose him?" I keep asking Cole on our way to the hospital but his reply is always the same; at least I am paying my respects because he would want that, awake or not. He can't wholeheartedly promise me that Luke will survive, not even the doctors could promise me that and, since we vowed to have an honest relationship, Cole won't fill my heart with empty promises, no matter how tempting it is. Instead, I can only be here for Luke in the same way that he has been for me during our entire lives. That doesn't prevent the feeling of dread that I feel every time we pull into the car park of the outdated brick building of life and death. 

When we reach the front desk, the nurse makes eye contact and smiles pitifully, "Same as usual," She buzzes us through the door and we continue to the third door in the corridor to the right, as per usual. Routinely, I reach out to the door with a shaky hand before Cole, as he does every time we visit him, takes my clammy hand in his own and opens the door for me. We step in, hand in hand, our eyes absorbing the horrific sight of my corpse of a brother. 

We advance to his sleeping body and I let out a sorrowful whimper as Cole wraps his arm over my shoulders and steers me to the chair next to Luke's bed as I grapple with his IV to grasp his icy hand, "I miss you, Luke. Please wake up, I need you," I speak shakily to one who cannot hear me, my bottom lip trembling. In a futile attempt of encouragement, Cole places a hand to my shoulder as I choke on the air surrounding us, "If you don't wake up, I swear," I whisper to him, holding his hand, my head leaning on our connected limbs as tears drench his wrist. 

As if the floodgates to a hidden memory cabinet in my brain are opened, I remember all of my favourite memories of Luke such as the time I threw up on him as a baby and so he wet himself in my cot. Obviously, I don't remember this but Aunt Claire took it upon herself to remind us of the good in our lives way back when. The earliest memory I have with Luke is the food fight we launched in our day care. However, even then, the memory is in fragments, almost a painful reflection of my brother's fragmented health. 

After years of begging my father for a trampoline when we were younger, he finally bought us one on a day which he felt particularly generous and, in all honesty, sober. He wasn't the worst father in the world but he only bought the trampoline as an attempt to create a facade of happiness to those around us, a final plea of normality to evaporate suspects. However, as soon as we got it, I landed on my wrist, breaking it. Luke stayed with me the entire time that we were at the hospital as my father remained cold and unloving, more concerned with the nurses finding the scars and bruises on my body than my recovery. 

On our first day of school, one of the older kids targeted me immediately and pushed me over in the playground for stealing his bench in the courtyard. Luke took it upon himself to kick him in the dick before blaming it on the few friends he had managed to make in a mere couple of hours. Those friends never spoke to him again but the bully never laid a finger on me after Luke delivered him a taste of his future. 

My favourite summer was the summer that we left middle school. Aunt Claire had received a promotion at work and fell into a lot of money so she took us away with her to Disney World in Florida. Luke and I tried all of the big rides and there up afterwards, only to stuff more themed snacks in our mouths after. However, the entire trip was ruined when Aunt Claire returned to a demotion after missing an entire week off work to take us. She had used most of the money on the trip, so she struggled for a while after.