I think Ava was wishing they'd come up with a magic wand and make me look like me again. She was still praying for a miracle.
I'd given up on those a long time ago.
I ran my hand over my skull, feeling the curved bumpiness of my head. I would never touch hair again, no matter if I wanted to or not. I could stroke my eyebrow if I really wanted.
The burns covered nearly half of my face, taking one of my eyebrows, and scarring the side of my nose. The burns hadn't been as severe on my face, but they were there. Very visible.
It was the ones along the back of my head and neck that traveled into my back that looked angry and I could feel. They were the ones that hurt worse than I allowed Ava to know.
Sometimes, I wished Ava was married. I wished she had someone that she could talk to about how she was feeling about everything. I knew she wouldn't tell me when things got too heavy for her. She'd just smile and keep pushing. I wished she had someone to confide in, so she wasn't keeping it all in.
I hated being the key source to all of her stresses. I was the main thought in her head, and I knew this for certain. It wasn't just my ego talking. I was the first thing she thought of when she woke up, and the last thing when she closed her eyes at night.
Even if she just had a decent boyfriend. Even if it meant me leaving so she could be happy, I would. I hated being her burden, even if she had never said as much.
On more than one occasion, I had thought about ending it. I would guess that would be normal for a person in my position. The only person I had in this world was my sister, and I was forcing her to care for me when she should have been out, going to clubs and out on dates with the good guys.
And here I was, doing nothing. I wouldn't hurt anyone if I died. Except Ava, but eventually she'd realize I did her a favor.
But I hadn't yet. I had kept on ticking, taking one day at a time, hoping for a better tomorrow, wondering if I'd ever find that place that Thomas Edison said was beautiful before he died.
I knew I shouldn't feel sorry for myself. I tried not to.
Didn't I have the right though? If I wanted to? Hadn't I kind of earned that?
Maybe not. Maybe I was still on the short end of the stick, as always. That was life. It sucked.
I just had to keep looking forward, that was what therapists told me. Looking forward to what? That was always my question, and then they'd answer with, 'To the future'.
Personally I think all therapists are hopeless idiots. My future isn't very bright. Unless they make hover boards. That would be pretty awesome.
♥
I opened my eyes seeing the form of a nurse above me. I couldn't really feel what they were doing to me, only that they were doing something to my drowsy body.
“We're taking you to the room now, sweet heart. Everything went perfect in surgery,” a calming voice replied.
My throat felt scratchy, probably from the anesthetic. Otherwise she would have heard me tell her that I was far from being a sweet heart. More like a Warhead.
The next moments went in and out, like a dream. I watched the lights above my head, then they were gone, and I saw Ava. She was smiling, waving a teddy bear at me. I think I may have nodded at her. I couldn't be sure.
I must have fallen asleep after that, because when I opened my eyes again, Ava was there and she was taking out wrapped burgers from a Burger King bag on the table by my bed, and a large Icee.
I loved Icee. No other brand of slushy drink, just Icee.
There is a difference, believe me.
“I snuck you in some contraband,” she said in a low voice, smiling at me. She took out the Whopper and even unwrapped it for me.
“Thank you,” I told her, feeling completely drained, and tired. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but knew I needed to stay awake. Ava would have to leave soon.
She smiled, sitting down at the edge of my bed. “The doctor prescribed you a pain pump for the night, so whenever you start feeling really bad, make sure to use it, Falon,” she said.
I feebly reached for my burger, and Ava quickly moved to push the tray toward me. She was great at knowing what I needed.
I chewed small bites. The skin graft had been done on my chest, but I could feel the pain throughout my entire body.
I mostly drank the cherry Icee, while Ava ate my Whopper. She watched me, as if to make sure it was okay. It was. I had no appetite for solid foods.
“Do you have to work tonight?” I asked her, rubbing my eyes.
She nodded. “Yeah. Eleven to seven, so I'll be back in the morning,” she told me.
I shook my head. “Just go home and get some sleep. I'll probably still be sleeping when you come back anyway,” I assured her.
The argument would never stand, but it was worth a try anyway.
Ava was a CNA, working at the assisted living in town. Most of the people there needed to be in a nursing home, but they weren't. Instead, my sister would spend most of her days caring for them more than she was suppose to.
It
