The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

Write Now! 30 August 2013: An Early Good-bye

He knew he shouldn't be reading her diary and yet he couldn't put it down. His sister was a grown-up, if one used years to judge; she was 18. She felt that he was far too young at five years old to be mature enough to understand her issues. She spent much time in her room, door pinched shut (he often lay on the floor and could see her, seated Lotus-style, on the bed, fingers in flight as she sent and received messages from who knows how many so-called friends).Today, she was gone with mom, which gave him the opportunity to go into her sanctum. As he stood on the safe side of the threshold, nothing seemed so spectacular. He walked to the desk and peered out the window, envisioning in what ways the sidewalk looked different to her when she sat there. After a time, he made his way to the bed; it was already mussed so he figured any sitting he did would not alert her to his having been there. He climbed aboard and sat, Lotus-style. After a few subtle adjustments he figured he was as close to her positioning as he could get; as he leaned back on his hands, he felt a small rectangle beneath the sheet. He retrieved the book and began hungrily scouring it for clues as to who his sister really was.The sun was leaving long shadows by the time he got to the end. He replaced the book and looked up to find her standing there. "Did you enjoy it?" She asked quietly. He swallowed hard, expecting that she would either beat him down or tell on him. Almost every entry in the book has been addressed to him. Instead, she came and sat beside him. His eyes asked why. She smiled and pulled up her sleeve, revealing a tube that ended deep inside her arm. He looked at her eyes; they seemed less bright than usual. He noticed that her skin was a bit gray. She reached up and ran a thin hand through her hair and when she pulled the hand out he noticed that much of it remained on her fingers, having let go of her head. She saw his horror and placed her other hand over his. "Don't freak. If you read the whole thing, you know where I was today." He glanced at the hospital tag on her wrist. "I don't have long but I was hoping that you wouldn't read that until...after." His eyes filled with tears as she sighed. "C'mon; Mom bought take-out for dinner." As they walked together down the hallway, she punched him weakly on the arm. "Well, at least now we don't have to say any stupid good-byes."

From Morning Story & Dilbert: 50 Questions #1

Daily Prompt: Let's Get Brainical