Disclaimer: I do not own The Haunting in Connecticut.
"Please, God don't make him suffer," mom said, thinking that Matt and I were asleep, but we weren't. "Please, make it work, or I'll never-"
"You know, I hear that talking to yourself is the first sign of losing it," Matt interrupted, tired of listening to her pray. I was tired of it too, but what would be the point of me trying to stop her.
"I was not talking to myself. I was talking to God," she corrected, glancing at me from the review mirror. She didn't like me coming along to the hospital, but Matt refused to go without me, even if it was for him.
"Well, threatening the creator of the universe is, like, step two," he sighed, while I leaned my head on his shoulder, and stretched my aching legs. "That can't be good," he smirked, laying his head on mine in response.
"I was not threatening him," she sighed. "I was simply letting him know how precious you are to me," she stated. Matt's breathing was getting really heavy.
"You gotta pull over, Mom. I'm gonna be sick,"
"Very funny," she smiled.
"No seriously, Mom," he said, I sat up straight and held onto his chest.
Mom pulled over, and I waited against the car as he let the contents of his stomach out in the grass on the side of the road. "It's whatever. Just don't look, Mom, okay? I'm all right," he said, waving his hand behind him as Mom leaned every which way to keep an eye on him.
"How come you don't go out there to check on him? At least he'd let you," Mom asked, still craning her neck to see him clearly.
What Matt and I discuss is our business, whether or not she's our Mom and she's just worried, he doesn't like being weak, especially not in front of other people, so being sick by himself is his way of still at least being able to do something by himself.
I sat around the corner, listening to the conversation between Mom and Dad. "Jesus. I know it's a long way, but how did it take you eight hours?"
"Do you really wanna know how many times we stopped so he could vomit?" Mom retorted.
"God." Dad whispered. "How is he now?"
"He's all right. I think he's still sleeping," she muttered. "I really wish Molly wouldn't come with us, though. I know they're twins and they don't like to be separated, but still."
Dad didn't say anything for a moment, "Let me get breakfast. You go to bed."
"It's okay. Wendy's helping and I'm kind of wired from driving."
Speaking of Wendy, she strolled past me, smiling down at me curled up on the stairs, with a book in my lap.
"Good morning, Aunt Sara."
"Morning, honey. Sorry about the chaos."
"It's better than my house." After that I got tired of listening to them and went to the dining room to nab some food. I saw Matt and snatched a piece of bacon, tagging along with him to the kitchen.
"Nobody plans on having a child with cancer, and than one who can't talk." We both stared at Mom for a moment, her voice making what she said hurtful.
"You know that's not what I meant."
"I know." I tugged on Matt's sleeve, pulling him away from the room, even though Dad had already seen us.
Matt silently fumed in our room, sighing loudly, and then settling on his bed after getting winded. "I wish you could talk, it kind of sucks having a one sided conversation with your sister." he laughed. I could only smile. I wished I could talk, too. But, I guess signing will have to suffice. At least Matt knows it, and Mom and Dad know it well enough.
I held onto Matt's hand the entire ride home. He kept squeezing my fingers until they turned purple or red. But, I didn't mind. His pain was far worse then mine. "They said you'd have body aches, but no nausea." Mom said.
Matt only laughed, slightly. I wiped away the tear that rolled down his cheek, intertwining our arms together. Closeness to each other always seemed to make the pain a little easier to bare. It wouldn't make the pain go away in the slightest, but it would become more manageable, by making it clear you weren't alone.
"Doctor says to patient, I've got bad news." I instantly remembered the joke. I'd signed it to him the day we found out he had cancer. "You've got cancer, and you've got Alzheimer's. Patient says: Oh, man. At least I don't have cancer." I smiled, and let a tear run down my cheek, just as I noticed one go down his.
"At least you won't lose your hair, again." Mom commented.
"Well, that's something." he sighed, leaning his head on mine. He gasped in pain, almost keeling over in my lap, as Mom made a U-turn. I wrapped my arms around Matt, and just held him to me as he clutched my arms.
We'd gone back to a house. Matt and I were laying on the mattresses, watching some old movie on the TV. I had a massive fear of unfamiliar places, and it took me awhile to warm up to them. Since Matt was the best brother in the world, he held my hand and let me cuddle up to him, turning up the volume on the TV to block out Mom's conversation with Dad over the phone, and then turning it off. He turned his head just as the image went out, and I saw a man standing in the open doorway, who then turned to leave. I gasped and looked over my shoulder, but there was no sign of anyone being there.
Just my imagination… I thought to myself, as I wrapped my arms around Matt's waist, getting comfortable on his shoulder.
Matt and I would share a room again, to the constant protesting of Mom. Mom was also against the basement as the room. "Look, it's nice and it's cool, and best, it's got its own private bathroom. Nobody has to hear me."
"You don't have to hide from us." Mom sighed, looking around, again leaving me out of the conversation. I couldn't blame her though, it's not like I'd have much of an input, anyway.
"The fact that everyone can hear me puking…it just makes me feel worse, okay?" he said, walking over to the creepy doors.
"What about Molly?" she asked, gesturing to me. "She can't speak, but she can hear pretty well."
"Molly helps me get through my sick episodes. Plus, she says she likes it down here, too."
I smiled, and signed- "*Although, it's a bit creepy.*" (Direct translation- Although, it kind of scare.)
Matt laughed, while Mom looked slightly confused. Mom was decent at sign, but Matt and I were pretty fluent in the language.
Mom and Matt went to try and see through the windows of the creepy doors, I stayed a good few feet from them. "What do you think's back there?" he asked.
"I don't know."
I'd rather not find out… I thought, rolling my eyes. There was a banging that scared us, but it was just dad.
Dad and Matt got the mattress onto the bed. Yeah, we shared a room, and a bed. I was afraid of the dark- seriously, and Matt didn't mind sharing a bed with me, as long as the mattress was big enough. "Well, it's a little dark, but, hey, I was a teenager once." Dad sighed looking around. "What's in here?" he asked, walking over to the creepy doors. Why's everyone so interested in those doors?
"I don't know. I couldn't open it."
"Well…the doorknob turns, but…" Dad kept trying to open the door.
"*Why is everyone so curious about the door?*" I asked Matt who shrugged.
"*We don't know what's behind there.*" he smiled, signing back to me.
"Maybe they sealed it for storage." Dad sighed, giving up.
"*Posters are going on those windows as soon as I get sticky tack*" I signed, smirking.
"*As long as there aren't any half naked guy on them.*" he laughed.
"*Or half naked girls.*" I shot back.
"I still don't know why you two want to stay down here." Mom complained slapping down the mop to clean. Matt cupped his hands against the window, trying to see into the darkness again. I was busy putting my books on the shelf.
"Whoa, Mom." Matt exclaimed, I turn to look to see red all over the floor.
"What?" she asked, as if nothing was wrong. She kept spreading it around, I rubbed my eyes, praying I was just really tired, unable to get very good sleep due to nightmares. When I looked again, it was just plain, non-red water.
"Are you okay?" she asked, looking to Matt.
He must have seen the same thing as I did. "Yeah, just thanks for cleaning our room." he said, covering up his freak out quickly.