In My Brother's Arms

Kira was walking through heaven.
         That’s what it seemed like, anyway.
         All of her surroundings were white…it was almost eerie to her. She wondered if this was really heaven, and then she wondered if heaven was supposed to feel so creepy when you first arrived. A silver-white mist swirled around her, but unlike the usual fog, it seemed almost like it was just floating liquid, although it simply felt like air. She could see nothing except this mist. And then she heard something.
         “Kira.”
         She must have spun around in circles at least three times; there was no way to tell which way she had been facing when she stepped into that spot. The voice sounded very familiar, painfully familiar to her, and if it was whom it sounded like, she feared that tears would begin to fall.
         A dark figure appeared out of the swirling substance, a tall, thin one, wearing baggy jeans and his favorite black long-sleeved t-shirt with a small hole on the right shoulder that she would not have noticed, had she not been there the day he had ripped it climbing a fence to retrieve a Frisbee she had accidentally thrown over it. His dark hair was mussed as usual, and his green eyes sparked as they always had. He walked toward her with his long stride, and her heart jumped a little more every step he took…
         “Kira,” he said again. She looked him in the eyes, and suddenly he stopped walking about a foot and a half in front of her. And then, simultaneously, they threw their arms around each other.
         It had, after all, been a very long time.

***

         Kira felt her wet, tearstained cheeks against something soft. At first she expected to lift her face and discover that she was pressed into his dark shirt, and to look up and see his face looking down at her (when had he gotten so tall?). But then she looked up, and he was not there at all; she was lying on a hospital bed, her white pillow soaked with tears. “Alaric,” she whispered into her pillow, her eyes growing full again. The tears poured down her face and croaked into her already-damp pillow as she spoke her brother’s name for the first time in what must have been a very long time. She had no idea how long she’d been here.
         She straightened up in her bed, her half-numb legs sliding against the stiff sheets. She sat up and alertly examined the room; she was surrounded by an overwhelming assortment of beeping monitors, screens, wires, and other hospital machines that she couldn’t even identify. Suddenly she was aware of deep, ugly scars that decorated her arms…
And then it all came back to her.

***

         “I don’t see why we have to go now,” Kira complained as Alaric took hold of her belt loop and began to haul her, struggling, out the door. He let go of her and she walked grudgingly toward his old, beaten up Ford truck sitting in the driveway. “Because,” he said in mock of her whiny inquiry, as he climbed into the driver’s seat, “we are out of peanut butter, and you know how I get in the mornings if I don’t have any peanut butter to dip my bananas in.” She scowled and yanked open the passenger side door. “Alarrriccccc,” she moaned. “I’ve been working out all day. I’m sweaty and disgusting. I want to shower and sleep. And then you come and drag me out of bed to go and get peanut butter with you, which I’m sure you could do yourself.” He laughed. Hard. “Kirrrraaaaa,” he said exasperatedly, in a perfect imitation of her. “It’s so much more fun to drag you out of bed for stupid reasons, and plus, twins stick together.” She chuckled at his cheesiness. They didn’t even look like twins. He was tall and wiry, with dark hair and bright, electric green eyes; she was short and thin with long auburn hair and blue-green eyes.  “I can always pretend we’re not twins,” she muttered sulkily, but they both knew she was joking.
         He turned the key in the ignition and the car made its usual painful noise as it started. Jerking the stick shift into reverse, he began backing down the driveway and came to a halt as their neighbor drove by. He frowned. “My brakes aren’t what they used to be,” he observed. “But it’s only a trip to the store. It’ll just be a few minutes.” Kira personally thought that it was about time this car started breaking down, but she kept her opinions to herself, and thought nothing more of Alaric’s comment. They left the driveway and started down the road. He let Kira turn the radio on, and they listened to a song they both knew in comfortable silence. She looked up to see that a traffic light up ahead was turning yellow; she hated being in front of a yellow light while Alaric was driving. He never paid any attention to them; to him, yellow lights meant speed up and see if you can beat the red light. And that’s exactly what he did. She opened her mouth to complain, but she didn’t have time to say anything.
         The light turned red just as he passed the intersection, and another car started driving toward them. It was a blue minivan. She would always remember that. Apparently Alaric still thought he was on top of things, and predicted that he could just speed his way through the space that the traffic light had created between the separate lanes of cars, but the minivan was traveling surprisingly fast. It came from Kira’s side, and she started screaming even before the van smashed head-on into her door. Her head hit the dashboard sideways, her arms were pinned to her sides, and she could practically hear her legs break. Alaric was yelling for her, although she couldn’t understand what he was saying. The minivan’s momentum pushed them further into traffic, and a dark green Dodge truck was coming toward Alaric’s side of the car. It hit them hard; they could feel it, but they didn’t move as much as the last hit. There was nowhere to go. They were completely stuck between the Dodge and the minivan, and the impact had crushed the car so that there was hardly any space between Kira and Alaric. Even then, even while she could feel blood seeping into her eye, even as she felt her consciousness fleeing, she saw Alaric’s pale, cut up face looking at her with concern, and she saw his lips form the words, “Kira, you’ll be okay.”
         The next thing she remembered was being on a hospital gurney, being wheeled hurriedly down a hall. The walls and ceiling were white. White white white. Even the people were dressed in white. It hurt her eyes. “Where’s Alaric?” she asked, as loud as her voice would go. Everyone looked at her, but no one answered. She knew they weren’t supposed to say much to patients in this condition, but this was ridiculous. It was a simple question. “WHERE IS MY BROTHER?” she asked, somehow mustering more lung capacity to squeeze out the question. The gurney stopped, and all the nurses looked down at her. “Honey,” one with soft grey eyes and brown skin said, “your brother died at the scene of the accident. I’m so sorry.”
         Kira then lost consciousness.
         And here she was.
         In this hospital bed.
         Four months later, according to the calendar on the wall in front of her.
         She saw an orange button that read ‘assistance’ on the side of her bed and pushed it, and heard footsteps coming hurriedly down the hall outside the door. A nurse entered, her eyes wide. She pushed the door open and stopped in her tracks, staring at Kira. “Good Lord…. you’re awake.” She approached her and stood not a foot from the bed. “Are you feeling okay? Should I call your doctor?” Kira shook her head. “I feel fine, actually.” Ugh. Her voice was scratchy from disuse. “My legs feel sort of weird though.” The nurse only looked more astonished. “You can feel your legs? Oh, my…hold on just one moment.”  She rushed out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a man. She muttered things to him while he looked at his clipboard and then she left. The man stayed. Kira missed the nurse. He walked toward the bed slowly.
         “Kira?” he said, loudly and clearly, as if she was incoherent and might not be able to understand him. “How are you feeling?”
         “I’m fine,” she almost snapped, and fairly enjoyed the look of shock on his face when he heard her speak normally. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” He looked rather embarrassed as he sputtered, “Oh, yes, of course….! Well, you were in a car accident four months ago.” He stopped talking about her brother when he saw her face; then cleared his throat, and continued with the other details. “You suffered pretty badly. You received a severe concussion, broke four bones in your right leg, and dislocated your shoulder, as well as some deep cuts and some internal bleeding as well. We actually did not expect you to recover.” He looked at her with that amazement again. “You should probably be checked over now that you’re awake. We can see how much you’ve recovered or how much you lost while in your coma. I’m Dr. Connors, by the way.” She nodded and started to try to get out of bed. “Oh, no need for that,” he blustered hurriedly. “I can get you a wheelchair, your legs are definitely not back to normal yet.” He opened the door and ran out into the hallway, and returned moments later pushing a wheelchair. She grabbed it from him when he got close enough and painfully heaved herself into it. As she did, her hair hit her in the face and she sputtered. It had gotten long. It used to be barely past her shoulders; now it was almost halfway down her back. Sheesh. “Follow me,” Doctor Connors said snootily, once he realized she was not going to let him push her. But her arms felt so weak he ended up having to anyway.
         She was thoroughly examined; measured, weighed, a regular physical examination. She was five feet five inches tall (same as before); she weighed one hundred and three pounds (?! Had she really lost that much weight?), but everything else seemed to be fine. Nothing could be said about the internal bleeding yet though. That would have to wait until further notice, when x-rays and other more complicated tests could be done.
         “Well,” the doctor said. “You seem to be doing pretty well, for someone who was just in a coma for four months. Would you like to call your family?”
         Family. She had barely even thought about them.
         “Yes,” she told him. He handed her a cell phone, and she quickly flipped it open and got ready to dial when she realized she didn’t remember the number. She froze. “What is it?” the doctor asked. “What’s wrong?”
         “I…. I don’t remember the number.”
         He shifted around uncomfortably. “Yes, your memory may not be what it used to be for while, if not permanently. I’m sure I’ve got their number in my files somewhere. I’ll find it for you.” He turned to the desk in the room and picked up a folder, ruffling through the papers. She sat there in her wheelchair and stared at the numbers on the phone, watching the little silver buttons go blurry as tears coated her eyes. “Here we go,” she faintly heard his voice say, and she heard paper crinkle a little bit as she saw him triumphantly hold up the record through the corner of her eye. He saw her and his grin dropped off his face. “Kira? What’s the matter?” The tears that had been coating her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “I’ve known that number since I was three,” she sobbed. “Why did I forget? Don’t people in comas just wake up like they had fallen asleep? They don’t forget things!” Then she thought for another second and started crying harder. “What are my parents’ names? What hospital is this? I can hardly remember anything…!” She then began absolutely convulsing with sobs for all she was worth. Dr. Connors didn't know what to do about it. A nurse heard it and came running in, shooting the doctor a curious glance; he looked at her woefully and shook his head. Kira calmed down after a few minutes, sort of. “Kira,” Dr. Connors said kindly, “hardly any comatose patients wake up just like nothing had happened. Lots of patients don’t remember anything at all, not even how to walk or eat or anything. You’re very lucky to remember as much as you do. Also, you weren’t in just any coma; you received some brain damage, and internal bleeding was suspected in your brain, although you weren’t stable enough to be tested for it. It’s quite a miracle you woke up this fast already.”
         That did not help her to feel any better.
         His brow furrowed a bit.
         “Speaking of that, maybe we should test you for internal bleeding again.” He saw her face and hastily added, “Just to be sure. It’s not really a huge concern right now, you’re not showing many symptoms of it, I just want to be totally sure…!”
Kira silently handed back the phone. She didn’t want to call her parents yet.
At least not until she remembered them.

***

         Kira lay silently on the table as a few doctors ran what they called a high-frequency x-ray to test her for internal bleeding. She closed her eyes and lay there, trying to remember her parents’ faces…she could remember her brother, Alaric, perfectly; his face, his smile, his eye color. But she couldn’t recall her parents’ faces or names no matter how much she tried. She’d told Dr. Connors not to tell her their names, that she wanted to remember them on her own. But she’d been trying for almost a day now, and she still drew a blank every time she tried.
         “Doctor Connors?” she heard one of the other doctors call. “You’d better come look at this.”
         He strode into the room, and Kira felt a breeze from his swift entry as her eyes followed him over to the cluster of doctors. They showed him some papers. Or maybe they were x-rays, she couldn’t see very well. But the look on his face was utter shock and sadness, and though she could not hear him, she saw his mouth form the words, “Oh, Lord…”

***

         Kira sat up in her hospital bed as soon as she heard the familiar rubber shoes squeaking down the hall outside her room. It was morning; Dr. Connors had promised to tell her the results in the morning. She tried to pretend she wasn’t anxious as he entered the room and stood by the foot of her bed. His face was tired and he had bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. This puzzled her. She waited, watching his face intently.
         He cleared his throat. “Kira,” he began, “I’m really not sure how to tell you this.” He paused and looked at the floor almost as if he wouldn't be able to continue. But then he cleared his throat again and looked her square in the eye, and began again. “Your results for internal bleeding were affirmative. You have very serious bleeding in your brain, and it was unchanging during your coma, as there is less brain activity when one is asleep or in a coma than there is when they are awake and functioning. But now it has progressed to the point-“ Now he definitely didn’t look like he could finish. His voice cracked, and he blinked a few times. He cleared his throat a third time, and went on, “To the point where now you would only have about a month to live, and a painful month at that. You would go blind within a week or so, deaf soon after, and your body would stop functioning gradually until the last thing working was your heart, and then that would give out as well. We can’t offer you any treatments or anything, the only thing we can offer you…” He coughed a few times and his voice cracked again when he said ‘you’. “The only thing we can offer you is a less painful death. We can simply put you to sleep, in a matter of speaking; we could give you a large dose of a sedative and you would fall asleep and not wake up. It’s your choice.” He stared at her with sympathetic eyes. “I’m very sorry there’s nothing else we can do. I spend all night looking for some way to treat you, but found nothing.”
         Kira blinked. And blinked again. She wasn’t sure if she had really just heard what she thought she had heard.
         And then it became clear somehow. Suddenly, her entire being was at peace. She felt no anger, no fear, no regrets for having lived her life wrong. She felt completely happy and fine. She could accept death. If she had to die, then so be it. She would be with Alaric, and she would not be in pain. The way she saw it now, did it matter what world you were in? Alive or dead, neither were bad. But sometimes you don’t get a choice between the two.
         “I understand,” she told him boldly. “I’ll take the sedative.”

***
         Kira lay in her hospital bed with her eyes closed, picturing her parents. She had been shown pictures of them, and she had stared at them until she had them memorized again. Their names were Michelle and Gordon. And she would see them again someday. She opened her eyes just in time to see Dr. Connors walk in, carrying an injection needle filled with amber colored liquid. And still she felt no fear, no negative emotions. She had written letters to her parents and a few friends she could remember, and Dr. Connors promised to deliver them for her. She had showered and washed her hair a good few times, and now she just lay in her bed, waiting for death to be delivered to her, to run through her veins. “Ready?” Doctor Connors asked softly, holding up the needle. She nodded and smiled at him. He approached her slowly and took the cap off the needle. He looked into her face, with such sadness in his eyes that it was almost painful. But it was what was meant to be. She scrunched the sheets up in her fists, and for a moment her confidence wavered. She didn’t know if she wanted to die. In fact, she knew she didn’t want to die, but she had a choice between painful death and painless death, and she was pretty sure the decision was simple. She began to cry. She would miss life. She would miss the world. She would miss hospital beds and popsicles and rainy days and school and moaning about teachers and complaining about cleaning her room and she might even miss Doctor Connors. She would miss crushing on boys, and eating dinner with her family, and falling down the stairs, and getting frustrated every time she failed her driver’s test because she couldn’t parallel park. She didn’t know if she would have anything like that after she died, but it was a risk she couldn’t help but take, because she had no choice. She wiped her tears and settled down in her sheets, resting her head against her pillow. She touched his face softly and nodded at him, and felt the prick of a needle in her arm. And as everything went blurry, she could have sworn she saw a tear roll down his cheek.

***
         “Kira?”
         She recognized the voice. She also recognized the swirling mist around her…
         Was this a dream?
                   Had it all been a dream?
         The whole hospital thing hadn’t really been real at all?
         She didn’t understand.
         “Kira?” it said again. And again, Alaric appeared out of the mist.
         What was happening. Alaric was dead. She knew that now.
         She burst into tears. Wasn’t it just like her brother to appear just when she was scared, and lost, and confused. He walked up to her slowly and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed for what seemed like quite a while. He pulled her close to him, and somehow, his scent of boy and a faint whiff of peanut butter made her think that everything would be alright. But she was afraid. She didn’t know where she was. She wasn’t even sure she knew who she was anymore. She didn’t know what Alaric was doing here, she didn’t know what he was thinking, and now she had forgotten why she was crying, which only made her cry harder. After what must have been about five minutes of Kira’s tears, she lifted her head a bit and realized that her surroundings were slowly getting brighter. Her tears of confusion and frustration felt more like tears of joy now. And as Alaric pulled her face out of his shirt front and smiled at her, she beheld an incredible sight.          
         Hundreds -no, thousands- of people were walking toward Kira and Alaric. There was light bursting from what seemed like all their pores, and the crowd of them was surrounded by a big, beautiful glow. And every single one had a smile on his or her face. They approached as if they’d been waiting for her, as if they’d sat and watched her entire life, just aching for her to be with them.  They all came to a slow stop a few feet away from them and began to cheer. She recognized a few of them; her friend, Matt, who had passed away from a heroin overdose a year before; her aunt, Kathy, who had had leukemia for six years before she had died of it three years ago. They were amongst the glowing crowd, smiling and cheering with them. And Kira cried even harder. Alaric’s arm draped over her shoulder lovingly, and she looked into his face, into his sparking green eyes, and now she knew, without a doubt, everything would be okay.
         “Welcome home, Kira,” Alaric told her, and they turned to the crowd together.