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i ran inside the hospital mom said they were in and started looking for her until i just went to reception.

"how can i help you?" the lady asked me.

"my brother came in. car accident. Alex Jones."

"second floor. fifth door to your left."

"thank you." i said and ran up the stairs.

when i walked inside the room i saw my brother with a Ventilators that breathes for him. my mom was by his side sleeping.

i walked out of the room and ran out of the hospital and sat by a tree crying.

i can't believe this is happening to me. again.

flashbacks:

13 years old izzy walking inside the hospital room with her grandma.

her dad, in the exact same position her brother is.

exactly the same injuries. the same accident.

back to reality:

are you okay? Nick said you disappeared. i got a text from Riley.

my brother at the hospital, Ri. i don't know what to do with myself.

want me to come?

no i'm fine. i'm with my mom. that's a lie. i'll talk to you later.

i opened my phone and scrolled through my photos. photos of me and james when we were kids. photos of me and my dad.

i miss him so much. i can't even begin the describe how much i loved him.

flashback:

"why are you here today, Isabel?" everything felt blurry around me.

my dad just died. the funeral was three days ago. i barely eat. i barely talk. my mom send me to a shrink.

i looked up at her. "it's Izzy." i correct her.

"okay, Izzy. wanna tell me about your life? your friends? hobbies?"

"i'm dancing." i say. "but it's not a hobby. i'm in a series studio. when i turn 14 i can try for the league team. it's called A troupe."

"are you any good?" she asks.

"i mean, i think so. my best friends, Riley and Emily in the same group as me. they both said i'm good. i think i'm good."

"Riley and Emily go to the same school as you?"

"no. James does."

"who's James?" she asks.

the quick answer would be, my mom's best friend's son. but he's not just that. or at least i don't think he's just that.

"a boy." i dismissed my thoughts.

"a boy? dances with you?"

"he's in the same group, yes."

"how do you know him?"

"he's my mom's best friend's son."

"but he's just a boy?" she asks again.

"a friend." i say.

"was he with you in the funeral?" oh shit. my dad died.

"no..." i say quietly.

"why not? i thought he was your friend. that his mom was family friend."

"i got into a fight with him a few days ago. before the funeral. in the studio."

"what was the fight about?"

"something stupid. i don't wanna talk about it."

it was stupid. he tried to see how i'm doing. he checked on me. but instead i yelled at him and told him to go away.

"why aren't you eating?" she asks me.

"i'm not hungry."

"never? most teenagers eat a lot."

"i'm not hungry." i repeat.

"you need to eat, Isabel."

"it's Izzy!" i yell and stand up. "this is stupid."

"why?"

"because i know i need to eat but all i want is french toast!"

"so make french toast!" she raised her voice.

"but i only like the way my dad makes them." i cried out. "made them." i corrected with tears. "it's soft and sweet just enough." i sit back down.

"izzy." i look at her. "you misses him and that is normal. but don't starve yourself. don't isolate yourself from everyone else. i think that James boy was just trying to help. he is your friend, right?"

"right."

"go eat something sweet. go talk to James. i'll see you next week."

and that's what i did.

i walked to james' house and he opened the door. "izzy." he said confused.

"wanna make french toast?" i asked him and he let me in his house.


back to reality:

this is awful. seeing my brother in the hospital just like my dad died. i couldn't do this.

i walked to James' house but i couldn't bring myself to knock. i stared at the door for solid two minutes before turning around to leave.

"izzy." i heard his voice. he was walking towards coming back from somewhere. "what are you doing here?"

"i want french toast." i said quickly.

"what?" he asked confused.

"when my dad died we made french toast."

"what's wrong?" he asked softly, walking closer to me.

and as he's walking closer to me i just want him to wrap his arms around me and hug me. but i can't. we broke up. we're not 14 anymore.

"nothing." i replied wiping away my tears and walking away from him.

"i'm still here if you need me." i stopped. "i can still be your friend."

"but i don't think i can." i replied and then walked away.

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