“There’s seriously something wrong with you”, Aliyah says, leaning in to cup her chin in her hands. She’s sitting in a chair beside me, her elbows resting on the bed inches away from my hip. My hands, which are resting in my lap under the hospital blankets, yearn to reach for hers for comfort. But I know she’d only bristle at my touch.

I remain quiet, waiting for my older sister to fill the silence.

“You do this all the time, you know. You always do stupid things and the rest of us have to suffer the consequences. What you did today-” she gestures to my resting form “-this is selfish”.

I bite my inner cheek, willing the conversation to die down. But it doesn’t.

“You made mom cry today”, Aliyah says.

I feel every sensation dampen at those words, the world turning into a hazy blur of beeping heart monitors and the scent of bleach.

You made mom cry today.

You made mom cry today.

You

Made

Mom

Cry.

My eyes shift to the door, willing the forces of the universe to do anything in their power to just make Aliyah leave me alone. I can’t deal with this right now. I can’t deal with her constantly reminding me just how badly I’m ruining things for everyone. My mother already had enough to deal with since dad's death last month and yesterday's eviction notice; what I did today would be enough to break her.

“You told her already?”, I croak. My voice is hoarse but I don’t know if it's from having that tube down my throat when they were pumping my stomach, or if it's from the threat of tears forming.

“She was the one who got the phone call. You still have her listed as your emergency contact”

I squeeze my hands together until it hurts. Sometimes having physical pain offered a distraction from the other forms of pain that often plagued me in difficult moments. Moments like this.

“Oh. Aliyah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry her or- “

Aliyah lets out a dry laugh and pushes herself away from the bed to pace around the room.

“Sorry? That’s all you have to say? Not this time Nico. That’s not going to be enough. We can’t afford any of this. All these medical expenses are going to be too much. God, you are so self-centered and…”

But her words are lost on me now and I am so tuned out that I can no longer keep pace with what she is saying. I can no longer even acknowledge her movements in my peripheral vision.

My eyes shift to my backpack sitting on the chair in the corner of the room.

They move to my denim jacket which is also draped on that same chair.

Then, they find the square breast pocket, and my attention is stolen by the little silver button holding that pocket closed.

That gleaming button is all I can focus on as Aliyah rambles on and I mentally count down the seconds until she leaves.

“Are you listening to me?”

Please leave.

“Nico they want to keep you here overnight. Do you have any idea how much that costs?”

Please leave.

“We are already behind on bills and not only are we struggling to keep our house, but on top of that we now have to pay for a hospital bed”

Leave.

Later, when she finally does, I let out a sigh of relief and rub my eyes which now hurt from staring at one spot for too long.

I pull my aching body from the bed and walk towards the jacket.

I open the pocket and smile in silent victory.

‘Just one. Just to help me get to sleep’, I think, as I press the tiny white pill to my lips.