“Then there were monitor pads on his chest, and a thing clipped on is finger, and a needle connecting a drip into his arm dripping blood from a bag hanging from a thing beside the bed. He looked a mess. My heart hurt. His head turned to me. He was lying on his back, with a white sheet covering his hips and legs, and there was a bandage about twelve inches wide wrapped about his torso. Blood had seeped through it at the middle and to one side. This was my little brother. Mom sat in a plastic chai...r on the other side of his bed. The monitor next to her bleeped a steady pattern and sent various wavy lines across its screen. Jake was still looking at me. “You okay?” I said quietly. Stupid question. He was lying in a hospital, pierced to pieces by needles, having nearly died. But he nodded. Only a tiny movement. Then his eyes turned all shiny. He’d hate crying in front of me but even more so in front of Mom. I looked at her. “Dillon will want to come in, if they’ll let him. Why don’t you ask?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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