The Fire That Blew Out Just As Quickly As It Came

It was her. It had to be her. Her voice. Her hips weren't even, making her favor her left side. Madison...
And that's when I saw it. That polka dot umbrella. She used to tell me it made her feel safe.
It hurt like Hell, but i got up and walked over to Madison. I grabbed her by the shoulders. I just needed to look in her eyes. I had to know it was her.
"It's really you..." I whispered. But when I looked closer I could see that her face was streaked, as if she'd been crying. My eyebrows drew together in concern, which she picked up on.
"I can't believe it's you." her voice slightly trembled. She started crying. And not the reunited crying. Like someone had just died...
I could feel it in my bones now. As much as I could feel with my screwed up bones. Something was really, really wrong.
I hugged her closer to me, pressing her into my chest which must have made her aware of how thin I'd gotten and how fast my heart was beating.
She coughed and spattered words that seemed like pieces of a nonsensical sentence. She was still crying too hard to say anything that made sense. I held her at arms length.
"What's the matter, Madison?"
I pulled her back close to me as the door opened. A receptionist type woman and two security guards stood in the door. The receptionist turned on the lights. I blinked several times. Gosh, how long has it been since those were on? She looked utterly shocked, as if Madison was a terrorist and I was some sort of high ranking businessman.
"Do you know her?" the guard asked, nodding toward Madison. I nodded.
"She's my sister." having to actually SPEAK hurt my throat. I had whispered and cried a little but talking was long lost.
"What is she doing here? This is a private facility and visiting hours are over." People actually got VISITORS anymore? these animated corpses had people that wanted be with them?
Madison turned around inside my arms. I guess she needed more than an umbrella now. Finally, she spoke.
"My parents. Our parents." she swallowed. "They're dead."
Dead. In a place like this that word stung. It burned like fire curling the skin right off you.
"Dead?!" at least the three strangers and I were on the same page.
"Our house was very old. It set on fire. Last night." Her voice was still shaking but it was clear that she was trying to be taken seriously.
Then the dirt on her made sense. It wasn't dirt, it was ashes. I ran my hand down her bare arm. It felt textured. It was definitely burned. She looked over and my hand that now rested on her injured arm.
"Th-This is serious! We need to call someone right now!" the receptionist was clearly panic stricken.
"I'm old enough to be her legal guardian. And I'm first in line to take care of her" I wasn't about to let Madison go. Never in a million years.
The guard sighed. "There's no way in Hell that your qualified, Jasper."
The receptionist took out her cell phone and started to dial.
"Don't you dare call services!" I was snarling now. It was serious.
The guard clearly thought I was dangerous, which I guess I was at the moment. "We'll have to make some calls."
No! I can't let Madison live some middle aged drunk who's gonna mess with her!
"I can't let her stay with you unless I can call services, Jasper." the other guard clearly had less patients and was starting to get irked.
Completely out of body, I grabbed the knife from under the mattress that I had saved from that night that seemed so long ago. I pressed it against my throat without actually making a cut.
"She stays with me!" talking dug the knife slightly inward, but I had no control over the situation anymore.
The less patient guard seemed disinterested. "Jasper-"
The receptionist grabbed the guards arm. "He has leukemia! If he makes the slightest cut, he could bleed out in minutes!"
Madison was clearly petrified. She acted as though I had the knife to her throat.
"Jasper, please!" Madison had obviously slightly given up on staying and now only begged me to not make the cut. Because the receptionist was right. It wouldn't be long...
"He might be eligible! She stays or our numbers of deaths just went up." the opposing guard seemed to side in my favor. The knife hurt beyond belief and I could feel a drop on blood drip from the knife.
"He's bleeding!" the receptionist was apparently easily panicked.
"Fine! We'll see what we can do!" the frustrated guard finally spat out. He stormed out of the room. The other guard and receptionist followed turning the lights of on their way by.
Madison was still crying a little. I dropped the knife and pulled her back close to me.
"I could've lost everything in that fire. I'm not letting you go." I held her at arms length and wiped the dirt and ash off her face. But still in her hair and slightly on her forehead was a gleam of fresh blood.
But if all the pain of losing blood meant I could keep Madison with me, it was worth it. Every second of it.

Lost Hearts & The Lonely Nights That Follow

Acceptance.
It can mean seeing someone for who they are.
Or letting someone in when your not sure you should.
Or coming to terms with what you’ve done or who you’ve been in the past.
In the days following the night i almost slit my wrist, I felt like I was being watched more closely. I wasn't sure how anyone had known about that night. Or why anyone cared there on after. But I knew they didn't really care. I was just their job to care.
I vividly remembered the other night a nurse came to check on me. She was obviously new. She just followed the standard procedure, give me my pills, make sure I take them, ask me how I'm doing. Same old, same old. But when she was about to leave, and I had taken my pills, and told the tireless lie that everything was okay. She laid her hand on my check, in the way that only one person used to do. Madison.
"You have beautiful eyes, Jasper." she said, almost in a whisper.
I stared blankly back at her. Not knowing what to say in reply. I hadn't noticed until then, but she spoke remarkably like Madison. In the same dulcet murmur. I blinked back tears as the rush of the emotions from that unforgettable night came back to me. But I didn't know this woman well enough to trust her with my tears.
She then had drawn her hand back and looked away. "I'm sorry." Then she stood and walked toward to door.
"Come back." I said softly. Spoken. Hadn't it been awhile since that occurred.
She quickly turned around. "Please." I spoke again. I wasn't sure what had taken over me.
She walked back over at sat at the foot of my bed. She looked sympathetic, but I could tell a part of her was scared.
Some tears had started to leak out despite my efforts to hold them back. The tears left long smears down my cheek due to the eyeliner. I stopped any more from leaking, but the smudges still remained.
She leaned forwards again whipping the smear of liner off my cheek. "What can I do for you?"
I swallowed hard. "I need something to believe in."
She withdrew again, looking deep in thought. "Have you ever looked to God?"
I shook my head. Organized religion had been frowned upon in my family.
She slightly smiled. "I think he can help you." I looked down. I had my doubts about religion, too.
"I'll take you to a church someday, Jasper. Someday soon. But I have to go." I nodded.
She stood once again and walked to the door. But like before I stopped her again.
"I don't know your name." I mumbled, voice shaking. I'm surprised she even heard me.
She looked slightly over her shoulder. "Sienna." And then she left.
Sienna.
When the memory subsided, I was still laying in my bed, twisting that ring again. I hadn't seen Sienna in a few days. And I was starting to think that maybe that night was all a dream.
Outside my room, the silence was interrupted by what sounded like someone running, and voices followed. The steps came closer to my door. The person outside opened to door and stepped inside, closing the door behind them. It was dark in my room, but I could tell that they were dirty and they had been running longer then from the elevator to my room. They were nervously panting. They were definitely a girl.
Through the darkness came a dulcet murmur...
"Jasper!"
No. I couldn't be. It was.
Madison.

Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun

Add to the list of one something that can change your life, a mistake.
In my case, two mistakes. Mine and theirs.
The days following the start of the program that I declined, things were less silent. There were faint mummers and whispers. Which bother me considerably less than the complete silence.
But my mind was still in a dark place no one could seem to reach me at. Clearly surprised at my pass of that program, therapists came to see me more. They talked to me more, and I talked less.
Then a day or two ago, they introduced something new that they thought would help me. Another pill. For depression. I was never reluctant to take any of my pills, but I never said when they didn't work. And these depression pills didn't help. They didn't make it worse, but they didn't make it better. What were they supposed to do? Maybe the real problem was that I don't know what they're supposed to do so I can't tell if they do it or not.
A beam of moonlight shone through the window. I turned my head to look out the window, but my eyes never made it to the moon and the outside world. Instead they fell on a small knife that was left on the table. It must have been the way that the moon hit the blade, but I couldn't seem to look away.
Hands shaking, I reached out and grasped the knife, careful not to be cut on the blade. But not careful enough. I made a small cut on my finger. A small bead of blood formed around it.
Then I remembered what I had heard about that sort of thing. Cutting. Intentionally. It's a pain release. Like how you clench your fists so tight your fingernails dig into your palms when your angry. Or tease about pulling your hair out. But this was serious. No tease. Real pain.
Rotated the knife slowly, watching the moonlight dance on the wall reflected by the clean blade. Real. Something real. Anything Real. Madison was the last real thing I had. But Madison's not here is? No. Madison's not going to save me. I'm alone here. Alone.
The taste of the word made me want to vomit. Alone. Alone. Alone. I brought the knife closer to my wrist. Alone.
Tears flooded my eyes. I could hear Madison's voice the day I left. "If it were up to me, I'd be the one with leukemia." More tears. I couldn't stop them. "I love you, Jasper."
The knife clattered to the floor as it fell out of my grasp. I couldn't do it. Cutting myself won't bring Madison to me.
I broke into uncontrollable sobs. I covered my face with my hands. I could feel my shoulders shake.
"I need her..." I managed to say through my sobs. "I need Madison..."
I allowed myself to rest back on the bed. I looked down at my wrist. Almost. I had almost done it. I forced myself to turn over. Leukemia hurt, but not as much as it hurt to be away from Madison. My eyes drifted closed from exhaustion from crying.
I need her. She saves me.

Every Day is a Different Story

Have you ever looked in a mirror, and doubted that the person looking back at you was you at all?
And have you ever imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that one day, 5 minutes, on test result, could change your life forever?
Jasper Nixon had been tested for acute leukemia exactly three week ago. But when the results came back positive, they took him to a clinic. Away from his family and the world he knew. He could've said friends, if he had any.
The clinic was cold and desolate. But it was the silence that bothered Jasper the most. That not any life was moving. And the only movement was down. Patients slipped away into a dark place in their minds that no one could reach them. Jasper was one of them. He no longer felt like he would ever leave. Or that healthy bone marrow was enough to save him. At this point he wasn't sure anything material could save him. Not his medication, not bone marrow, not an expensive therapist. But it wasn't him that slowly slipped away. It was his hope.
Who am I? Fable me not a guide or a therapist. Nor someone Jasper knew or knows. So who I am? I am Jasper. The boy you may have already grown to hate after just 220 words.
Quickly my thoughts were interrupted.
"Jasper?"
I looked over at the door. A tall blonde woman stood in the door way.
"The clinic has started a new program for the patients. We're gathering patients of the same age and giving them time to socialize. You see, recently we've noticed how lonely and depressed the patients are. If you would be willing to participate, any one is welcome to."
I didn't want that. People who knew nothing about me just goggling at me, sorry that I got put in their age group. If I wanted that, I would've gone back to school.
"No. No thank you." My gaze was blank and forward. But I could tell the woman wanted me to.
"It is completely voluntary. I hope you change your mind." She shot a quick smile and left, closing the door behind her.
I rested my head back on the bed. I lifted my hand and twisted the ring on my ring finger. A habit. It reminded me on Madison, my sister. Maybe the only thing that I was sorry I had to leave behind. She never treated me like my parents or the kids at school. She was just a genuinely nice person. I guess that's hard to find anymore. But she was back in New Jersey and I was stuck here. But someday I would see her again. I closed my eyes. Someday. The last word mildly hopeful that I could say or think or breathe. Someday.