“Oh, it's still raining,” Mel whispers, glancing up from her book toward the window for only a second before burying her nose in it again. She was on Sleeping Beauty this time, fully engrossed in it and unaware of the storm till just now. Sometimes I wish I could get as lost as her in something, to immerse myself so much that everything around me ceases to exist and only me and that other thing two that matter. But I was stuck here, like everyone else in Hitomi, facing reality head on.

 

I sighed and headed upstairs, stepping over my two brothers who for some reason found the stairs the best place to play anything at; like it was their personal space and no one else could bother them there. They played anything and with everything there from cars to trucks to tag or hide n seek and they even went there to talk about what they were going to do for the day. I've often found them even sleeping there from time to time, completely drained of energy, resulting in me having to carry them up the stairs and drop them off in their respective beds. But with school being cancelled, at least from what I could make out from the call earlier, I didn't have much else to do.

 

When I finally reach the top, feeling more tired than I normally was, I'm immediately recognized by Chantelle, who promptly stops whats she's doing and walks over toward me.

 

“Hey Cody, crazy rain outside, right? But I think it's helping mom calm down.” As she finishes she cast a glance behind her toward moms door. At that same moment, Cindy quietly opens the door then leaves it ajar, noticing both me and Chantelle as she does so. She then raises her finger to her lips, indicating us to keep quiet and let mom get some sleep, assuming she was asleep or just wanted some rest.

 

“She just fell asleep, and it's the most peaceful she's looked in ages,” she whispers as she walks by, heading down the stairs. But as she walked by, something felt... off about her. It looked like she was paler than normal, and that she hadn't slept properly in days, dark shadows hovering just under her eyes. It wasn't anything I wasn't used to; she devoted her life to watching over our mom when dad was at work, even leaving school. But just now it looked and felt like her persistence to watch over mom was ebbing, like she was starting to break under the stress. Was she hiding something?

 

“Cody?” Chantelle says, tugging at my sleeve. “What's wrong with Cindy?”

 

So she can feel it too, I didn't say aloud. If something was wrong with Cindy as we suspected, she'd tell at least me in her own time in her own way. All I could do was wait.

 

But still, I knew Chantelle and Cindy were close, closer than almost any two sisters I've seen. But for someone of her age to know something was wrong was impressive. But then again, she'd always been close to the oldest siblings: Cindy and I. She never hung around with my younger brothers or sister, or at least I've never seen her around them often. She'd always be helping Cindy with our mom or with me in the kitchen. I always knew she admired my ability to cook, but I guess she's also admired Cindy's unwavering determination. But that was starting to fade, or so I think, and both her and I could see it.

 

But that was only a guess, and I didn't know how much she knew and didn't want to worry her too much. So I knelt down to eye level and said, “Yeah, she's just tired. Why don't you go and watch mom till she's back for me.” I nod toward the door to moms room.

 

Without question she nodded and quietly rushed off toward the bedroom. I could tell she was more mature than her age led on, and that she'd do almost anything Cindy or I would tell her without arguing. Our whole family was like that; honest, friendly, willing to help.

 

“Maybe that's why I went with Random, because I enjoyed helping others...” I told myself after entering my room and closing the door. I then stride over to my bed and sit on the edge of it, letting my mind wander.

 

I then realize that that didn't dawn on me till after I woke up from blacking out, though. I helped Random without asking questions, without assuming if “Dizzy” was real or not, existed or was made up. And blacking out in general was strange for me, as there was no record in our family of it ever happening. Even with our moms sickness.

 

“It's odd,” I mumble, throwing my arms behind my head and leaning back onto the bed. “When did that happen?”

 

I knew I had been out the day before with Random, helping her search. Did something happen during that? Or was it after... I remember I was with Aurora after that, and she had that strange glowing object with her, concealed in her bag. I couldn't get a glimpse of it though, and every time I looked at it or thought of it my head began to hurt. I don't think Aurora noticed that day, but I've been questioning it since then.

 

“What on earth did she have, and why did it make me feel like that?” I sat up and shook my head; nothing could cause you to black out like that. Defiantly not a strange, glowing whatever... A knock from the door snapped me out of my reverie.

 

“Cody, you in there?” It was Cindy's voice, soft, but also a hint of nervousness. Shoving myself off the bed I head over to the door, twisting the knob and and let it swing inward. And before I knew it, I was assaulted by her weight, her burying herself into me, tears streaking her cheeks. When I had seen her just a minute ago, she was sad and reserved, even if she was putting on a brave face for Chantelle. But now she was completely lost to her emotions, the strong walls holding them back collapsing.
Shutting the door behind us to keep the rest unaware of what was happening, I helped Cindy over toward the bed and then to sit down. Right after I went to grab some tissues from the tissue box on my desk before joining her on the bed.

 

“Cindy, what's wrong?” I ask her as she blows her nose, then grabs a second tissue and wipes her eyes. She was clearly shaken up about something, and it wasn't just the weather.

 

“I-It's... it's mom,” she gets out between sniffling and blowing her nose. “She's... not doing so well.”

 

Well that's odd, I think but don't say out loud. She just said she was doing better than she had in ages, despite the fact that the last storm seemed to effect her health fairly greatly. So why tell Chantelle and I that unless...

 

“You lied to not worry Chantelle,” I exclaim, causing her to shiver a little and nod, confirming she had. I know why; she did it to not upset Chantelle. “But she already knew something was wrong, at least with you,” I point out, her head turning up to look at me in surprise. In it I saw confusion and then regret slowly forming.

 

“I didn't know...” she whispers, returning her eyes to the floor. She must have been too caught up in it all, otherwise she wouldn't have been afraid to tell her. Because not long ago she told me that Chantelle did look up to her.

 

“I knew Chantelle looked up to me, but I didn't want to worry her over this.” She shook her head, probably to clear the thought. “No, she is more mature than she looks, and I shouldn't take that for granted. I should have told her...”

 

Tears began streaming down her cheeks again; she was highly emotional. I knew she was strong, but I was correct about that strength ebbing, about her losing her steel will as it slowly thinned under the pressure of the responsibility. I hated seeing her like this and knowing I couldn't do much to help.

 

“Is it the storm, then?” I ask her, hoping I can calm her down. “Last time this happened she seemed worse than before, but this storm feels... different.”

 

She shakes her head before turning back toward me. “It's... not that,” she says between ragged breaths, “it's... us, or more so me,” she finishes, dabbing the corner of her eyes with the tissue, drying the remaining tears. Their was a pain in her voice as she spoke, a pain I could compare with. It was like nails grinding against a chalkboard type of pain. One where you blame yourself for the cause of every bad thing around you, even you had nothing to do with it. I had gone through that last year before Chantelle-someone younger than me who hadn't even experienced half of what I had in life-had helped me pull through it. In a way, I guess she kind of knew something was off with me, like how she always did with Cindy. She was a gifted child, as our mom had always said as we've grown up and that's always shown, even now.

 

“Watching her like how she is,” Cindy says, “It's... starting to get to me, Dad, too.”

 

Dad... I don't really get to speak to him much since he goes straight to mom after he gets home. Cindy sees him more than any of us, so if she noticed the same thing as him, it must be true. But then that means...

 

“I thought she was getting better this entire time, and now she's actually getting worse?” I asked, suddenly panic filled.

 

BOOM!

 

Thunder roared outside the window in my room, causing us both to jump and killing the serious mood between us for a moment. But it quickly returned, along with nothing but rain pattering against the window.

 

“She is, but I think it's an act. Like she wants me to finally live my life, so she's trying her hardest to look like she's getting better, even if she's not. I know I'm not in the greatest health and spent most of my past few years taking care of her, but even to go this far... Even Dad can see through it as well and it's hurting him, more than you know.” The last of her words held more hurt in them than any other part of her sentence. I guess I haven't really been paying much attention since I've been hanging around with Random. “Neither of us have questioned her,” she continues. “We didn't want to tell her she was wrong to try and hide it; she loves us more than anyone I know and neither Dad nor I can bring ourselves to hurt her when she's already in so much pain.”

 

The waterworks started again soon after she was done explaining to me what was going on. I've never seen her cry this much since we've grown up together. Ever. I guess the time her and our Mom spent together must have developed some really deep closeness. A closeness most teenagers don't experience with their parents.

 

As tears continued down her cheeks she leaned into me, clearly caring about nothing around us and seeking comfort in anyway she could. Confused and not knowing what to do, I wrap my arms around her, her tears dripping against my clothes. I didn't really care though; I wanted to help however I could, that need to help stirring inside me. But still, she was always such a strong woman, and now...

 

Another knock on the door caused her to quickly tear away from my arms and that was the first time since she entered that I got a good look at her. She looked like a mess from crying; hair frazzled, eyes puffy, cheeks wet. But she didn't let that bother her as she quickly began patting down her hair and then running her fingers through it before wiping any excess water off her cheeks, and finally finishing by rubbing her eyes to try and get rid of the puffiness. Once she finished, she opened the door, me standing just behind, having gotten up during her process of not looking like she'd been crying this entire time. Chantelle was standing at the door, her lips curved in a small smile.

 

“Cindy, mom's up and wants to see you,” she says before turning around and returning to the room.

 

Before completely leaving, Cindy cast a glance over shoulder, and from what I can tell, mouths the words “thank you” before following behind Chantelle back to our mom's room. I couldn't help but stare. Her shoulders were sagged, her legs wobbled, and she looked thinner than I've ever seen her. Not too long ago she was strong willed and beautiful, for my sister. Now I don't think anyone would give her a second glance. Even with what I had going on, I wasn't the only one with problems, and I was starting to notice this more and more when I was around Random.