Sinners 01 - Branded by Abi Ketner, Missy Kalicicki Page A

found
     out is Bertha, rushes around with the dark-haired nurse. The eighth floor seems particularly
     swamped today, so there’s no time for questions. Left to my own devices, I’m determined
     to develop a deeper relationship with Alyssa.
    Our interactions have been limited to her basic needs for the most part. I change
     her linens, give her baths, and attempt conversation with her while getting nowhere.
     She’s like an armored battleship ready for war. I tiptoe around to keep from disturbing
     her whenever possible. However, her situation still pricks me. She must feel so alone
     and deserted.
    How can I get her to let me in, to be her friend?
    This time I don’t knock. I pull open the curtain, go to the window, and open the blinds.
    “What’re you doing? I’m tired and want to be alone,” she snaps. It’s the longest string
     of words she’s put together since I started taking care of her and I don’t want the
     opportunity to pass. I drag the chair across the room and next to her bed. “I know
     what it feels like to be alone and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’ve been trying
     to help you. Can’t you see I want to be your friend?” I plead from my heart.
    “Why? What’s the point?” The bitterness in her voice cracks with weakness, so I gingerly
     reach out and wrap my hand around hers. It’s cold and lifeless.
    “Because I need a friend.” I squeeze her hand slightly, praying for an intervention.
    Tears flow from her eyes as she leans her head back into the pillow.
    “I don’t want to be this way.” Tears slip down her face. “I don’t want to die. I don’t
     want to be alone. I… just hate it here. I hate everything.”
    Tears pool on the rims of my eyes as I focus on her.
    “I’ll stay with you. I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”
    “I think I’ve been here five years. Maybe longer? Sutton’s the closest thing I have
     to family.” She clenches and unclenches her fists.
    She sits up and wraps her thin arms around me. She starts to shake as she sobs, so
     I hold her. I wish there was more I could do for her—anything.I want to make her remaining days as wonderful as possible, but how does a child enjoy
     her time when she knows Death parked himself just around the corner?
    “What can I do?” I ask.
    “Don’t let me die.”
    Her words tear my insides to shreds. A hopeless feeling overcomes me and I want to
     scream at the top of my lungs “Take me! Take me instead!” I would, without a doubt,
     trade places with her if I could. I know it’s impossible, and the loss of that control
     throws me into a frenzy. There’s no way she deserves to be here. I don’t even know
     where to go or who to blame, but there has to be someone.
    “I’ll be right back.”
    I run down the hallway and into the linen closet. I ball my fists and pound on the
     door. I grab the sheets and chuck them over the laundry bins and all the way to the
     trash cans on the other side. Burying my face into a blanket, I let out a scream that’s
     been balled up in my chest for way too long. Towels fall off the shelf. I pick one
     up and throw it, then another and another until they form a disheveled pile. I push
     the bins out of my way and bolt to the supply closet.
    I run my arm down the line of supplies, sending them to the floor. I pick up an IV
     pole and swing at the wall. I pound harder and harder until it breaks in half, sending
     one part into the mirror, shattering the glass into tiny fragments on the tile. I
     dig my nails into my palms.
    “Why!” I scream. “Why her?”
    “Stop.” Sutton’s calm voice breaks my tantrum.
    Slowly sinking to the floor, I rest my head against the wall behind me and look around
     at the mess I created.
    “I’m sorry.” I pull the collar of my shirt up over my face, sniffling and wiping my
     tears away. “I’ll clean it up.” My arms throb and my muscles twitch from adrenaline.
     I push myself up, ashamed for losing all self-control, and start picking up