The Whispers

24: Mongrel

"What is deservedly suffered must be borne with calmness, but when the pain is unmerited, the grief is resistless." - Publius Ovidius Naso, Roman poet.

Dead dead dead.

Maggie's dead.

She's dead, my own sister is dead. She's gone and she shouldn't be, she's too young, she has too much potential, her whole life is ahead of her!

She was too young.

She had too much potential.

Her whole life was ahead of her.

Fuck, I can't think straight. I can't think of anything right now. I'm high off my fucking tree and my mom who recently abandoned me is standing in the middle of the room having just told me that her youngest daughter died.

Her adoptive daughter. Her adoptive daughter who was never told about being adopted, who never spent any time with her parents because her dad was in an asylum and her mom ignored her for no valid reason, and who felt like her mom didn't love her. She left this world being bullied, neglected, and friendless, and her own mother doesn't even seem to care.

My sister, the kindest and smartest person I knew, died and for what? What was the reason? I'm trying to think of a logical explanation as to why she was targeted, why she was stabbed, but I have nothing.

Nothing but the fact that this world was cruel to her.

It didn't deserve her.

She didn't deserve any of this.

"Did you hear me?" Mom asks. Mom. I should start calling her Kate. I may have been produced from one of her eggs but I do not consider her to be my mother after leaving. Sure, she was never really there but that doesn't mean I wanted her to leave.

Maggie and I would try and talk to her, offer her food, and we'd go with her every week to see dad.  We had an affection for her, but I wouldn't go as far as to say love.  She had the audacity to leave us, though, and all because she "didn't care anymore."  I don't believe her... the word 'anymore' implies that she ever cared at all.

"I did hear you," I confirm, nodding my head, my voice void of emotion.  "Maggie's dead."

Dead dead dead.

Dead and I wasn't there. Dead and Kate wasn't there. She died alone.

"I tried calling you," she sighed.  "You never answered.  Your dad had to be sedated so I figured I'd call someone if you went off the rails - you know, seeing as you clearly don't know how to use the phone."

"You were planning on calling me to tell me that my own sister is dead?" I scoff.  "That's a terrible way to break the news."

I'm trying to imagine how that phone call would have gone if I hadn't broken my cell.

"Apparently you didn't visit her often," she went on.  "Doctor Lewis told me."

Aren't doctors supposed to have some kind of confidentiality when it comes to who visits their patients?

"Seeing as you didn't know that before then I'm assuming you didn't visit her at all," I tell her.

"You're right," she confirmed.  "I never wanted to see her out of the hospital, no point in seeing her in it."

I went the day she was stabbed.  She went into a coma afterwards. and I didn't see much of a point in going again because all it would do was make me sad.  She wouldn't know I was there... maybe she would have, I don't know.  I should have been there.  It was selfish of me not to be and now I'll never see her again.