Chapter Seven: Promise Me

The doctor shied away from me. "I understand how hard it can be for you but--" He began.

"No. No, no you don't understand at all. Do you have a sister two-years-younger than you with Luekemia?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"You should be with your family. I'm going to go now," He excused and exited through the door, with a deep sigh.

"Andrew, that was innapropriate," Mom told me blandly.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Tell him that," Mom replied softly.

I was quiet for a moment. Was she being serious? Did she want me to go out there and tell him "Sorry"? Ugh.

"Go on, go tell him," Mom ordered. Trudging out the door, I sighed. Didn't anybody understand this? That I just get mad sometimes...ok, a lot?

The doctor looked at me and turned around. He began to walk the other direction. It was almost funny he was scared of me.

"I'm not going to yell at you, or get mad," I muttered hoping he wouldn't hear me. I guess he has some super-human ears or something though.

"What can I help you with then?" He asked me.

"Sorry." I mumbled angrily. He nodded.

"Apology accepted." He said.

Oh, great. Like I really care. I just got an apology accepted from somebody I don't even knows name. Oh well.
***
Tibby was smiling with see-able all of her effort. I smiled weakly back at her.

"Hi." She whispered. Her lips looked chapped and her skin seemed more colorless than the hospital itself.

I nodded. "Hey."

She looked me over. "Mom's discussing stuff with the doctors, dad went home with Alex. They had to check on the house and stuff." She seemed so, normal. Like nothing was wrong. Even though it majorally was.

"I didn't exactly ask."

"You where going to though."

I nodded. "I was."

"Andrew?"

"Tibby?"

"Promise me one thing." Tibby ordered hopefully. What if I couldn't keep her promise?

"O-kay." I seemed to talk slower, seemed to prounounce every syllable.

"When I leave, do one thing." That startled me. Speechless, I nodded.

"Don't remember me in a hospital. Don't remember me sick." She looked at me to make sure I was listening. I nodded and she continued, "Do you remember when you would swing me on the playset in the backyard?"

I was older than her. I wasn't supposed to cry. Too bad I couldn't tell myself to stop. I nodded. "Y....yes. I remember..." I struggled to say.

She told me, "Remember me that way. When I was 8, and you weere 10, me with my brown hair back in a pony tail, turning back to make sure you where still pushing, giggling. Remember me that way."