Run! Ch 1, Pt 1

Chapter One Part One

Evening, Sunday, May 24th

Dear Diary,

Today’s Jack’s birthday. And mine too, obviously. I mean, we are twins, after all. Only Mr. Higglebun didn’t do anything. Not like he ever did. But Jack was hoping

that maybe, just once, they’d take him to the hospital for a check-up. The kids say that’s a weird dream, but Jack needs it. He was supposed to go often, but wasn’t allowed. So he wanted to on our birthday.

But there was no party. No celebration. The two of us were twelve years old. We were mature and old. There were plenty of younger kids at the orphanage. We have to take care of them. I try, but I have to take care of Jack too. He’s like my own little kid.

Jack’s really only a few minutes younger than me, but he was born sick. He’s now the size-and brain-of the three-year-olds. So I take care of him. I don’t mind. He’s my brother. The only relative I have. And I love him. It’s just that we can’t go to the hospital with him.

During church, I prayed for him. I hoped he’d be alright. Grow up to be normal, like me.

Because I broke the rules. And listened. And heard that Mr. Higglebun wants to kick Jack out. He says Jack is trouble.

Noon, Wednesday, May27th

Dear Diary,

Maybe I should run away to bring Jack to the hospital. We’d get in huge trouble, but his health would be worth it.

Oh, I’m in English class right now, so that’s why I’m writing a diary entry. It’s our assignment. Which is a good thing, because I need to express my emotions.

And I know I sound like I’m much older than twelve-years-old. Everyone tells me I sound like someone much older than I am. I guess it just comes from having to take care of Jack. I’m forced to act older. Because Jack acts like a little kid.

I mean, he’s not in any of my classes. In fact, he’s still only in kindergarten. While I’m in 9th grade. I think Mr. Higglebun wanted me to skip a few grades because I’m smart enough to-I’m still at the top of the class now-and it would get me out of the orphanage and away from Jack sooner. As they expect any college to take me on a full scholarship.

Anyway, I was talking about Jack. He isn’t feeling well. He has a fever, and says that he can’t’ feel his heart pumping sometimes during the night. I am so scared for my brother. I love him. I don’t want him to die, and that’s probably what will happen if he can’t go to a hospital.

He’s very sick with fever. He could die at any moment! Not that that horrible Mr. Higglebun cares.

For him, it would just be one less mouth to feed. Plus I’d pay more attention to the younger kids. I sure do hate that evil Mr. Higglebun.

In fact, I loathe him. I despise him. I detest him. He ruins the lives of innocent orphans.

And his wife’s no better.

I can’t believe anyone would love him enough to marry, but of course she’s evil too. I think it’s Mrs. Higglebun who said no to the hospital, which has been begging to see Jack all these years. I just hope Jack survives. Of course, otherwise this orphanage would close for causing the death of a boy, so no other children would suffer like we do.

And we suffer.

We have to drink filthy water from the sewers, or from the stream on those rare days we can go outside. We sleep in heaps on the floor, but at least boys and girls are separate. Otherwise I know the older kids would just die. But the roofs are cracked, so whenever it rains, and it rains often, it showers all over us, so we wake up soaked and usually sick. No one notices if someone wet their pants though. Either way, we eat bread from the garbage that’s over a month old, and no one dares to ask for

anything else. Not to mention the no-hospital rule.

It’s dreadful in this orphanage.

Well, maybe I shouldn’t write that in class. The teachers read it.

Oh well. I want them to know what I think of them.

Middle of the night, Monday, June 1st

Dear Diary,

I am beginning to get very worried.

During the night, I heard a noise coming from outside the door of the room. I tiptoed over and opened the door. And standing before me was Jack.

In his pajamas.

With vomit all over them.

He said he’s not feeling well, so I went into the hall with him, and we talked. Like I talk with the little kids I help with. But it seemed to help Jack. So I went to his room, and got into bed with him. And he snuggled up really close, as if I were his mommy.

Which I am. I mean, our real mommy died.

So I hugged him until the poor boy fell asleep.

Which was when I noticed that his breathing seemed off. He wouldn’t breathe for what seemed like forever, and then take some very quick breaths. I thought of getting help,

but realized that this could be how he always sleeps.

Not that I believed that.

But it was hope for my brother.

And I couldn’t sleep anyway, which is why I’m writing this, using the dim light from the moon.

Later that morning, Monday, June 1st

Dear Diary,

Jack has to go to a hospital. It’s obvious. I came into his room again later during the night, and noticed that he was still breathing abnormally. I gently touched his little wrist to feel his pulse, but it wasn’t there for what felt like years, although it was really about ten seconds. Then there was one beat, and silence again. Jack always had a weak heart and lungs.

But he always slept alright.

I know. I’ve lain with him a few times before this, sometimes just because I’m happy he’s alive. He might not have been. If mommy could die from just laying eyes on him, he must have been very ill. If the hospital didn’t fix it a little.

Only that doesn’t stop him from having to go there once in a while.

It’s just that the Higglebuns won’t allow it. They could

cause the death of my only living relation.

I can’t let that happen.

I’ll bring Jack to the hospital myself if I have to. If they don’t bring him.

I just want him to live.

I want to be an aunt one day, and I want to see his grandchildren. I want him to go to college, and then get a good job.

I know I have many hopes. I can’t help it. I want my brother to be fine. So he was unique, but like everyone. At least, healthy like everyone else. So he won’t die until he becomes an old, old man.

And I have to bring him to the hospital for that.

It’s necessary.