The chapters are short, I know. I'm not intending for this to be a 200 page novel or anything, but we'll see where my mind takes me. I'm 13, and this is one of my first serious stories. Please review and comment. Thanks so much! :]
PROLOGUE
Jane was always my rock, my inspiration, my song. She was talented, beautiful, and everything I hoped of being. We had a strong and unbreakable relationship. If we were meeting anyone for the first time, they would assume we were best friends, not sisters. We were best friends, we knew each other inside and out, and if anything ever happened to Jane, well, it would pretty much be the end of my sanity.
CHAPTER 1
GLARE
As I stare out into the theater, quickly filling up with excited tourists and New York natives, I feel a hand resting on my shoulder. I turn around to see my sister, Jane, staring at me with her confident brown eyes much like my own. Her sandy hair flows in locks like wheat down to her waist. She has a look of knowledge and sympathy on her face as she comforts me.
"Look, Brenda, I know you're nervous, but you have to realize you have talent! I mean, come on, honey, you're in CATS! Look around you. The audience is here to see you," Jane assures me.
My gaze shifts over the accumulating mass of people, the audience, my fans. They are waiting to be entertained. I can't help but fear I'll mess everything up.
"I mean, how many of these Broadway plays have I been in now, let's see, oh, five? I should know, take it from me; your first show is always the worst. You'll get in the swing of it eventually, and it will be like clockwork," Jane reassures.
"Being a little arrogant, are we?" I say sarcastically. I know Jane's only trying to help, but with my nerves, I don't need her talent rubbed in my face.
"I was only trying to give you some advice," Jane says defensively, walking away with a hurt expression growing on her face.
"Wait! Jane! I love you!" I try to say, but she has already left backstage. As I take my place behind the curtain, I check my form-fitting, cheetah print cat costume and my microphone. The opening music begins, and the heavy, blood red curtain lifts. I start singing the opening song, the song I have practiced for months on end. My cast members are belting it out with me. My feet follow the dance steps they have been trained to follow to a tee. As I move gracefully and carelessly, my nerves slowly fade. Regardless of my fleeting nerves, I have this nagging feeling something is going to happen... and happen soon.
I gaze at the audience, their faces hidden by the lack of illumination in the theater. Momentarily, a spotlight lands on Jane's face in the audience, and she gives a small wave. I look up at an observer's balcony, jutting out from the wall proudly, and see something shining, reflecting the spotlights. As I peer closer, I can see what is shining. There's a man. He's dressed in black. He's holding a gun, and it's pointed directly at Jane. My heart lurches a beat, and for a moment, the world seems to fade from me. With the sound of the gunshot, I am jerked back into reality.
"NO!" I scream, but it's too late. The trigger has been pulled. The room is spinning. I can barely see in my state of confusion, Jane, my best friend and sister, lying motionless on the ground, and then all goes black.
CHAPTER 2:
DARKNESS
Darkness. That's all there is. It strangles me and holds me in its strong grip. I can't scream, can't move, can't feel, I can't see. All I am is darkness. Slowly, very slowly, something creeps up in my vision. It seems to be a ray of subtle light. My vision suddenly returns. I'm 6 years old, Jane is 8. We're running and laughing in a field of wildflowers, the sun dancing on our blond curls. We're playing tag, and I feel as if I'm really six years old again, feeling that innocence that is lost with age.
Oh Jane! Where are you? Where are you? Where are you! Suddenly, I am aware of bright lights around me and worried faces of- -cats? staring at me.
"She's awake!" I vaguely hear a voice.
"She's back! What are we going to tell her about-" another voice echos.
"Shhh. We can't tell her yet. It would be too traumatic," says another voice.
"What's happening?" I say, and my voice is husky and unrecognizable.
"You fainted, honey, at the musical, when- oh well, anyways, um..." I'm aware now of my mother speaking to me. I'm also aware of the hospital blankets around me and the computers monitoring my heart rate and blood pressure.
"When what?" I say. Then, it hits me. The last thing I heard before passing out was a gunshot. The last thing I saw was my sister laying on the ground.
"Oh- Oh God no! Jane! Where is she?! Is she hurt? I have to find her!" I scream. Anguish and desperation fill me to the brim.
"Honey, honey, it's okay. She's alive. She's in critical condition, but she's alive. There's something you should know, though, Brenda. Jane was pregnant. She was waiting until after your musical to tell you. The doctors are unsure about the damage done to the fetus. We'll have to wait for that news," says my mom.
"She was pregnant? Oh, that's awesome! I hope the baby is okay! Can I see Jane? I have so much to ask her!" I say with enthusiasm. For some unknown reason, the room has gone completely silent.
"Well, Brenda, sweetie..." my mom comes over and smooths my hair from my forehead, "Jane is in a coma."
CHAPTER 3
DON'T LOOK BACK
"Jane's... in... a coma? But- but how is her baby surviving?" I say.
"They have her on life support. Her baby is staying alive through the life support," my mom says, a look of sadness crossing her face.
"Do you know who the father is?" I say. A voice chimes in as soon as I finish my sentence.
"I'm the father. Your sister met me through your musical. We have been dating for about eight months now," says a high, feminine sounding male voice. I look up to see a somewhat small man standing in front of me, dressed in his tattered cat costume.
"Richard?! I always thought you were-" I stop short. I don't want to offend him.
"Gay?" he chuckles, "Yeah, well not everything is as it seems," Richard says with a look of amusement.
I'm so confused by this point everything feels as if I'm in a dream. Richard isn't gay? He's the father of my sister's baby? This must be some kind of joke!
"Oh, well, sweetie, um, the doctor says that you can go home with us, since your state of shock has passed," says my mother hopefully.
"Can I see Jane?" I demand, "I just want to see her in case... well, in case anything happens to her." I say.
"Of course, sweetie," Mom says. She pushes the nurse help button, and a nurse immediately pokes her head through the door, then jumps back, startled to see so many made up faces looking back at her.
"I think it's time that Brenda leave the hospital," says Mom. She then whispers something to the nurse that I cannot hear. The nurse nods in understanding and leaves the room. She is back in a matter of seconds.
"Here are your clothes, sweetie, you can change out of them if you like," says the nurse affectionately.
"Thanks," I mumble, "Um, no offense, I think it's nice y'all are hear and all but I kind of have to change..." I say to my cast members.
"Oh right, sure," say my friends awkwardly. I change into my clothes and immediately feel less exposed. I walk to the door of my hospital room and feel the cool sensation of the tile on my feet.
"Okay, I'm ready, now let me see Jane," I say forcefully. Mom gets a look of hesitation on her face, but then it is quickly swept away and I am lead to Jane's room. I pass the rooms of chronically ill hospital patients and the E.R. After what seems like a lifetime, I am finally in one long corridor.
"Okay, honey, Jane's room is down there to the right," the nurse says, pointing. I walk down the hall and turn right as instructed. In front of me is a light blue door with a window at the top half. I peer through the window and can see Jane's feet. I take a deep breath and walk in her room.
I am struck at how pale she looks. What I see lying before me is not my sister, but merely a ghost of my sister. I walk up to her bedside shakily and take her hand in mine. Her fragile hand is so cold and lifeless I feel as if I am holding an eggshell. When I examine her more closely, I can see a small bump near her stomach. Why hadn't I noticed that before?
Again, for the second time since Jane was shot, I experience a flashback. Jane is 14, I am 12. We're sharing a room, and I wake up to a loud noise. I look at the clock and see that it is 12:00 AM. Wondering what the sound was, I look to my side and see Jane climbing into the house from the window.
"Jane? What were you doing?" I say, confused.
"Nothing, little pipsqueak, now just go to sleep," Jane's voice is strangely shaky and it sounds as if she had been crying. Doing what she tells me to do, I fall asleep and never think about that night again.
I am now back in the hospital room, Jane by my side, and I can feel a tear running down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away and leave the room, not being able to bear anymore of this emotional turmoil. I walk down the hallway, and as I look back at Jane's lonely room, I feel a long shiver run down my spine, and I pick up my pace even more.
