All the way through the weekend I lay in bed, trying to draw the comic or just staring at the unfinished piece. I struggled and slammed my sketchbook before throwing it on the floor and grabbing my guitar.
"Loves not a competition, but I'm winning." I sang the kisercheifs song grumpily. My sister didn't come in. The house was quiet, empty. It was like knowone was here apart from me. It was 3:00pm and I was still in my p.j's, it didn't bother me. I threw my guitar on my bed and trudged into my sisters room. She lay in her bed also, tears running down her cheeks and dropping on her hello-kitty top.
I stood at the door then gave up and sat at the end of her bed, rubbing her shoulder gently. "It's ok Lizzy, shhh, don't cry, Aunt May is in a better place now." I whispered. She got up and wrapped her arms around me.
"It isn't that, I have to look at dad every day, he's getting worse." She cryed louder and I rubbed her back, shushing her constantly.
"I do to, I do to." I whispered kissing her head and taking a handkercheif from her bedside table. She took it and blew her nose violentley. I smiled.
"I've seen the girl you know, she looks nice. What's her name?" She asked smiling up at me. I frowned down at her, she always did know how to eavesdrop. I sighed.
"Her name is Hayley." I said.
"That's a pretty name." She glanced out of her door. "Do you know...about her eyes. I saw last night and it's been giving me nightmares." I stared at her wide eyed.
"Yes I do know about them, she dosen't, I need to help her. I'll explain soon." I said looking away from her and walking to the door.
"Joe?" She called.
"Yes?" I replied looking at one foot out of the door.
"Your not doing cross-country are you?" She giggled.
"No, I'm not now shutup!" I said laughing and closing the door.
After tha school came quickly, pushing me along harshly and forcing me to do this. I didn't want to though, I didn't want to have to hurt her, but I couldn't just let her die. I mean what am I supposed to do? I just had to kiss her didn't I.
That day at school was slow, and horrible. English had to be the worst of them all though. she refused to look at me, her thick dark hair covering both of her eyes. When she looked up at the teacher she just threaded her hand through her hair so now her hand was covering her face now. When finally I had the courage to say, "Look Hayley..." The bell rang.
She took her books and shoved her pen in her jean pocket before finally looking at me, a pale face, circles around her eyes, her lips a creamy color. Her expression was agonized, excruciating, horrifying. I couldn't look at her. Before giving me the sad look she turned and walked away, no good-bye's, no hello's, no anything.
That night I stared up at my ceiling, depressed and alone. I knew at the back of my mind tomorrow would be even worse.