I dived for the trash can and I vomited into it. I was on my knees, my eyes closed, the acrid, sour smell rose from the can. I convulse again as Dr. Corning opens her door and yells out to bring the nurse. I feel a hand on my back rubbing in a circular motion. She’s trying to soothe me as I break into a cold sweat. I wretch again filling the trash can. She’s resumes rubbing my back softly. I hear the rush of footsteps towards me getting louder. I moan as I begin to cry. “It’s going to be okay.” Dr. Corning says softly. “You’re going to be okay. You don’t have to do any of that anymore. I’ll make sure you won’t have any more interaction with the cheerleading squad or the coaches.”

I’m wailing. I rarely get this emotional. She can’t take this away from me. Not after everything. It was starting to get better. Why is this happening to me? I can’t think anymore. Everything is in a haze. The nurse walks me to her office. I’m not sure what is happening. I’m just crying. It's hard to focus. How can all this come from one stupid prank? How can being on the squad be so important to me that suddenly being off it reduces me to a crying mess. I hear talking? I think they’re asking me questions. I can’t be sure. I hear my name called out. I’m trying to respond. They just keep saying “can you hear me?” My crying has given way to sobs… The nurse has me lying on the bed. My mind begins to calm. In the next room I hear the faint conversation.

“… kind of breakdown.”

“…faking it?”

The voices grew more distinct as my focus returned

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What could cause this?”

“Are you kidding? The boy’s had his life turned upside-down. His sister is fighting for her life… You’ve all turned him into a cheerleader? For what? Some sort of twisted punishment? This is why the administrators handle student discipline, not the teachers. I don’t care what agreement you had with the parents. My decisions stands. The child is off the squad and I don’t want you hurting this kid more than you already have. I’d love to give the parents a piece of my mind too, if I didn’t think it would threaten my job.”

“I’m sorry, we thought it would be good, we could keep an eye on him, while the parents could deal with the daughter. We thought giving him an outlet and positive role models would keep him out of trouble.”

“I wish you would have consulted me first. Now he’s having some sort of breakdown. What did you have him doing, anyway?”

“He was following the routines, I noticed that he might be settling in. He had fairly good balance and coordination for someone with no real training, much like his sister. We had him working on tumbling runs.”

“How was he interacting with the squad? The girls I mean.”

“That’s the odd part.”

“Oh?”

“Well he came up to me during lunch yesterday and he wanted to address the girls on the squad at practice.”

“Why do I get the feeling that there is more to his breakdown here?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

“Go on…”

“Well I figured that he was trying to apologize to the girls, then he continued, saying how cheerleading was important to him. He started to get emotional and well… I think this is something he wants.”

“Well, for the moment my decision stands. I want to talk to some of his teachers and him again before we take any action. These activities are supposed to be a privilege not a punishment. We don’t even know if he’s academically qualified to be on the team even if he wants to be there. Does he have any friends that can keep an eye on him?”

“Lisa Cramer, came in with him yesterday.”

“Ms. Cramer? How is she involved in all this?”

“I’m not sure, Carrie, do you know?”

“Ellie mentioned to me when I was working with Aaron and Ellie, that Lisa had been working to get Aaron in shape. I was quite pleased ofcourse.”

“Is she looking to get back on the squad?”

“No, at least she hasn’t approached me about it.”

“Well, Ms. Cramer’s parents know the risks and were right to keep her out of such demanding pursuits.”

“Do we know anything about Amber, his sister? I’ve got seven girls begging me for information on how she is.”

“I can’t share what I know, we requested status from the parents and the hospital, there's lots of restrictions. Normally, the note I get is a projected return date. It said ‘indefinite’.”

“Off hand, I’d say that means grief counselors. We’ll need one specific for him too.”

“I think that we should not jump to conclusions. For the moment, we have a scared boy in there, whose sister is in the hospital. Nothing more.”

My thoughts are now on my sister. Grief Counselors? My parents have moved her and now the Principal is talking about Grief Counselors? What is going on? Part of me wanted to stay in the dark. Hoping that the Principal was overly cautious. What if she wasn’t. Is it possible that I may have killed my own sister? Could that really happen? I had thought being removed from the cheerleading squad was the lowest point my life could take. Amber? Could she really die because of my stupid prank? How did it get this far? The nurse comes in to check on me. She’s got a cup of a light tan liquid. “Ginger ale” she murmurs. “Cures upset tummies. How you feeling?”

My eyes drift from the translucent cup to the nurses brown eyes. They’re wide caring eyes. Her face has a hint of a smile. It feels like there’s a brick in my stomach and my shoulders feel heavy. All I can manage is, “I wanna go home.”

“I’ve called your parents, they weren’t at home. I left a message on their machine.” It’s not that my parent’s didn’t believe in cellular phones. It was just too expensive and much like cable television, an unnecessary expense. It didn’t matter, cellphone service was spotty in our coastal city anyway. An hour later, my father arrived at the school to pick me up. The nurse refused to allow me to walk home even though school had ended half an hour ago. My father had a somewhat lengthy conversation with Dr. Corning. Honestly, I’m not sure he came out of that meeting any better than I did during my meeting.

I walk silently to the car and so does he. We get on the road, however we’re heading in the opposite direction of the house. “Where are we going?” I ask. A sense of dread comes over me.

“To meet up with your mother. She’ll take you and the car home. I’ll stay at the hospital.”

We pass the local hospital and drive two more hours. We arrive at a large hospital complex. Larger than anything I’ve ever seen. “Is this where Amber is?”

“Yes, for now. We’re hoping the doctors here could help.”

“I heard the Principal talking about needing grief counselors. How bad is it?”

He gives a sigh. There was no hiding it. Amber’s condition was grave and I… I was responsible. “I’d like to see her.”

“That’s why I brought you. The surgery that they plan is… risky. The doctors are confident, but not optimistic. I… I thought perhaps you would want to have some time with her. You may not get another chance.”

Dread continued to well up in me. We walk into the Critical Care Ward. My feet get heavier and heavier with every step. I can feel the nausea building. We are escorted by a nurse. One visitor at a time reads the sign. Children must be accompanied by an adult at all times. The nurse gives us a sad look. My father enters and I look up desperately at the nurse. She looks at me. Her eyes well up with tears. I can see her heart break as she forces a smile at me and she can barely get the words, “It's okay…” before she chokes up and walks away saying “I’m… “

I enter the room. My Mom is at my sister’s bedside, holding one of her hands. “Baby, please come back to me", she says in a sad. mournful tone, only a desperate mother can spill out. My dad walks over to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. The heart monitors sounding a slow methodical beat. My mother stands and falls into my father’s embrace as she begins to sob. My father sadly and ever so gently walks her out of the room.

I’m alone with my sister. Her brown hair splayed out over the pillow. Machines help her breathe. The pulsing hiss, out of rhythm of the heart monitors. I sit at the chair my mother had just departed. The heat from it, the telltale sign of her long vigil. “God, I’m so sorry, sis.” the words spill out of me. I continue, “I didn’t know it would end up like this.” tears fall freely from my eyes. “Please come back to us. I… I need you. I… please you can’t leave…” I don’t know what I’m saying its just all coming out. I can’t think anymore. “I love you, sis. I… Please come back to me.” My father enters the room he puts his hand on my shoulder much like he did with my mother. I rise, turn to him, and in the same way fall into his embrace sobbing. He slowly walks me towards the door.

There’s a noise from the bed that catches us by surprise. The monitors begin to scream and beep. My sister on the bed begins to spasm and convulse. Two nursed burst through the door followed by a doctor. One of the nurses herds us out of the room and I yelp out “oh God!” I’m out the door, I rest my back against the wall just outside my sister’s room. I slid down the wall, burying my knees to my chest, while hugging myself. Slowly, I rock back and forth and two more doctors rush past me and enter.

There’s a flurry of activity. My father just stands there, not knowing what to do. All I can see is his pants and his shoes. Two more nurses come. One escorts my dad and the other escorts me to a room where my mother waits. I’ll never forget the look on her face as we shuffle into the room. The look of desperation turns to defeat. The image will be burned into me for the rest of my life. The moment in time where my mother truly lost hope.