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theohhellosThe hospital gown clings to me like a second skin. I'm more used to wearing it than the regular clothes they let me have. I can hear them talking to Aerith again. I can hear Aerith talking to them again, trying to get them to listen to what she had to say. I know it's pointless. I know that no matter what she says, it won't change anything. I've accepted that. I've accepted a lot of things.
I've started to hate my sister.
They call her good, they call her sweet, they say they're proud of her. And they never take it back. And they never say she needs to improve.
It's just me.
So I hate her.
I hate her for being better than me. I hate her for thinking she could change things just because they like her better. They'll listen to me, you'll see. They'll listen to you. They'll listen to you. That's the problem. That's always been the problem. She thinks she's better, too. That's why she does this. To rub it in my face.
As they take me away to that cold, white room, I watch you stand there with a sad look in your eyes. But you don't do anything. But you can't do anything. We're both kids. Yet, I still wished you did more. I wish you fought harder. I wish you didn't give in so easily because you felt so secure in your place here. That's why you don't speak out often. You have it good and you know it.
You know it.
And so do I.
I tear my gaze away from you, staring straight ahead. Dull grey meeting pure white like an old friend. A familiarity that makes me sick. A familiarity that comforts me even though it shouldn't.
It'll be over soon.
Just get it over with.
My eyes feel heavy as I lay on the table. Many things press into my skin, to monitor me. My heart, my brain, whatever they could get their hands on. I'm always so tired. I feel so drained. And that was a good thing. It made their jobs easier. I don't have the strength to fight back anyway. My eyes feel heavy, heavy, heavy.
I didn't bother asking what they were going to do today.
It didn't matter.
I didn't matter.
My eyes felt heavy, and then the world went dark.
I've started to hate my sister.
They call her good, they call her sweet, they say they're proud of her. And they never take it back. And they never say she needs to improve.
It's just me.
So I hate her.
I hate her for being better than me. I hate her for thinking she could change things just because they like her better. They'll listen to me, you'll see. They'll listen to you. They'll listen to you. That's the problem. That's always been the problem. She thinks she's better, too. That's why she does this. To rub it in my face.
As they take me away to that cold, white room, I watch you stand there with a sad look in your eyes. But you don't do anything. But you can't do anything. We're both kids. Yet, I still wished you did more. I wish you fought harder. I wish you didn't give in so easily because you felt so secure in your place here. That's why you don't speak out often. You have it good and you know it.
You know it.
And so do I.
I tear my gaze away from you, staring straight ahead. Dull grey meeting pure white like an old friend. A familiarity that makes me sick. A familiarity that comforts me even though it shouldn't.
It'll be over soon.
Just get it over with.
My eyes feel heavy as I lay on the table. Many things press into my skin, to monitor me. My heart, my brain, whatever they could get their hands on. I'm always so tired. I feel so drained. And that was a good thing. It made their jobs easier. I don't have the strength to fight back anyway. My eyes feel heavy, heavy, heavy.
I didn't bother asking what they were going to do today.
It didn't matter.
I didn't matter.
My eyes felt heavy, and then the world went dark.
