Sick Day

Mikey really doesn't look good; his eyes are red and squeezed shut, I can hear his breath wheezing slightly, and I can't help but notice that the bucket beside him has served its purpose.

I smile gently at him as I walk into his room, sliding my book bag to the floor in the process. "Hey, Mikey baby; you feeling any better?" I ask quietly, sitting on his bed next to him and placing my hand on his forehead. It warms my cold skin, still slightly damp from the rain outside.

He opens his eyes just as I slide my hand down to cradle his cheek. "H-hi, Gee," he murmurs softly, voice slightly scratchy.  I smile softly at him, and rub under his eye with my thumb. He lets his eyes slip closed again, and it's not long before his breathing evens out, becoming deeper. I kiss his forehead, then stand up and head to the living room to do my homework.

Somehow, I force myself through both my Math and English, to get to my favorite, art. Our awesome teacher gave us a somewhat challenging prompt. Draw a portrait of something/someone that gives you hope.

Hm…for me, that's hard to decide; at first I think of Glenn Danzig, then Billy Corgan, Bruce Dickinson, Freddie Mercury, and finally Geoff Rickly; none of them seem to fit.

Finally, it hits me: Mikey. My brother, my best friend, the little boy who looks up to me, comes to me when he has nightmares, makes me feel wanted even at my lowest. Smiling, I pick up my charcoal pencil and begin shifting through my favorite memories of Mikey.

I sit up straight and begin; my strokes strong and sure, leaving behind the beginnings of Mikey's face, paying special attention to his eyes and cheeks, the happiness radiating, shinning out.



After two hours, I finish my drawing. Roving my eyes over it one last time, I smile at what I see; Mikey, at his fourteenth birthday, smiling at me as he sees my gift to him: a folder full of all his favorite pictures I'd ever drawn. His eyes bright green in the sun, cheeks tinged pink from the ginormous smile splitting his face.

Satisfied, I carefully tear it out of my sketchpad and place it in my 'Art' folder, then placing that back in my messenger bag. Finally done after two and a half hours, I stand up and stretch, groaning as my back cracks, twice. I decide that I need coffee, thinking about how I haven't had any since this morning.

As I'm grabbing my cup – a birthday present from my Grandma – Mikey stumbles down the stairs, runs into the wall, and trips on the rug in the kitchen. I throw my arms out to catch him, and just barely manage.

Giving a slight chuckle, I pick him up bridal style and pull him closer to me protectively. "Careful, babe; you could seriously hurt yourself." I say before kissing his cheek. I feel him snuggle into my chest and wrap his arms around me. He giggles and lays his head on my shoulder.

"I'll be fine, as long as I have you to catch me whenever I fall. Love you, Gee." He murmurs into my neck before falling back asleep. I smile and walk upstairs to my bedroom, laying him on my bed before stripping down to an undershirt and boxers, finally lying down next to him. I snuggle close to him and kiss his lips softly.

"Love you too, Mikey…" I whisper before I drop off into the world of dreams.