I get in my car after school and drive to the hospital to visit my little brother like I always do. When I get there I see his sick face covered with hospital blankets. It breaks my heart every time I see him like this. He’s my best friend. No matter how sick he gets, he never fails to make me laugh. He likes when I tell him stories about soccer, and he tells me about his day. By the end of my visit I forget how sick he really is.

My first game is this week. I wish my brother could come, like he used to. Seeing him in the stands always gave me more confidence. Now that he has to stay in the hospital, my mom just videotapes my games so I can show him after. It’s not the same, but when I show him he gets really into the games, almost like he’s really there.

In school all I can think about is my brother. I really hope he gets better. For the rest of the day I couldn’t focus on anything else but him. Teachers kept asking me if I was okay because I wasn’t acting like my “usual self.” But I had soccer practice right after, playing usually takes my mind off things. I was confused when my coach told me I was wanted in the office

Oh no, what did I do? My mind was in a desperate search for something I had done. My heart was racing, and my palms were sweating. When I’ve almost reached the office I look through the window and notice my mom is sitting there covering her face. My dad is right next to her with his arm around her. Comforting her? What’s happening? I open the door slowly, my mom looks up and points to the chair next to her. I sit down, shaking because I’m scared of what she is going to say. I look in her red, make-up smudged eyes.

“Michael…it’s your brother.”

“I know.”

I lose eye contact with my mom and look down at my feet.