Fiction: Waiting for the Wounded (309 words)

06 May

When Mittan came into the room, I rose to my feet and crossed the room to hug her as tightly as I could.  She let me old her tight for several minutes before she gave me a weak pat on the back.  “Uh, Crissa.  Bruised ribs.”

“Oh. Right, sorry.”  I jumped away as best I could without rattling her more.

“It’s okay.  I missed you too.” Mittan patted my shoulder weakly before leaning on me as a crutch.

“I’m just glad that you are alive,” I muttered, supporting her as we made our way towards the couch I’d been sitting on earlier.

“I’m pretty glad I’m alive too,” She waited just a little longer before saying, “They are going to call me when Lio is stable enough for visitors.  I’ll make sure I get you in to see him too.”

“You will?”  I tried not to show the extreme relief on my face. I didn’t know how I was going to get in to see him.  I was already making plans to break into the medical building.  But, if Mittan got me in, that was a bonus.  No criminal record.

“Of course I will.  You love him just as much as I do—thankfully in a different way.  Just because he doesn’t have the courage to put a ring on your finger doesn’t mean that you should suffer without seeing him.”  Mittan sighed, sinking down onto the couch as we finally made it across the room.

“You are the best not really a sister in law ever,” I said with a bit more excitement than I probably should have.

Mittan laughed at my outburst without opening her eyes, reaching over for the blanket that sat next to her.  “Yes.  Yes I am, and don’t you ever forget it.”

“Not for a second,” I smiled, tucking the blanket around her legs.

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Posted by on May 6, 2015 in Stories


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