Hollow.

            That was the first feeling I became aware of. The first was severe pain in my left leg. I struggled to open my eyes, but I couldn’t focus enough to manage it. I groaned quietly and then became aware of someone squeezing my hand. Using that as a focal point, I finally managed to pry one of my eyelids open slowly.            

            All I could see was white. I forced my other eye open and I realized that it was a white ceiling. I knew this wasn’t my room, but I couldn’t concentrate long enough to try and figure out where I was. With a sigh, I closed my eyes once more.

            When I woke up the next time, my mind felt clearer, but I still felt hollow. My eyes opened with little effort this time and I was able to see that I was in a hospital room. I had an IV in my left hand and there were machines all around me.

            Movement to my right side had me slowly turning my head in that direction. I saw my parents, Cindy and Adam all standing beside my bed, with a mixture of relief and concern on all their faces.

            I opened my mouth to say something and that’s when I realized there was a tube in my throat. I panicked and tried to rip it out, but my dad and Adam quickly restrained me as a doctor walked in.              

            “Hello Dana, I’m Dr. Green. I know you’re probably confused right now, but don’t try and talk until we remove the tube from your throat.”

            I nodded and waited while a nurse came in. They removed the tube from my throat and adjusted my bed so that I was sitting up more. Cindy and my mother moved closer so that they were standing next to Adam and my dad. I looked at my parents. “What…” That’s all I got out before I started coughing again.

            My dad quickly poured a glass of water and handed it to me. I sipped it gratefully. “What happened?” I managed to croak out.

            “There was an accident on the way back from the show. Do you remember?”

            The memories flooded back and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I remembered the sounds of crashing metal, the blinding light as a vehicle hit us head on. I remembered the look in Luke’s eyes as he met my gaze a split second before we were hit. My eyes flew open and I looked at my dad. “Luke?”

            The grief on his face told me everything before he spoke. “He didn’t make it.”

            My eyes rolled back into my head and I fainted before he even finished speaking.

            “Dana, it’s time for you to wake up now. Open your eyes sweetie.”

            The voice was slightly desperate, so I fought to the surface of the fog that had enveloped me. I opened my eyes to see my dad standing over me. As soon as I saw him, I remembered that Luke was gone and tears flooded my eyes. My dad tried to hug me, but I pushed him away, ignoring the hurt look on his face.

            I fought to regain control of myself and when I could speak again, I looked at my mom. “When’s the funeral?”

            “It was three weeks ago, sweetheart.”

            I frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

            “You’ve been in a coma for the past month.”

            My eyes widened. “A month?” I whispered. How could I have lost a month of my life? Then I thought about the fact that Luke had lost the rest of his life and I decided I didn’t care how long I’d been unconscious for. In fact, I wished I’d never woken up so that I’d be with my brother.

            Dr. Green came back into my hospital room. “Good, you’re awake again. We have a lot to discuss.”

            I looked at the people who cared so much about me, but I couldn’t face them properly right now. “Can you get them to leave for a bit?” I asked the doctor quietly.

            If he was surprised, he didn’t show it as he turned to the four other people in the room. “If you could all just wait outside for a bit that would be great. I want to talk to Dana alone for a few minutes.”

            They reluctantly left the room and I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

            “I understand that this can’t be easy for you. Sometimes the ones that care about you the most will suffocate you without meaning to.” He set down the chart he had been holding. “Now, can you tell me how you feel?”

            “Empty.”

            I saw something flicker in his eyes, but he just nodded. “Okay, and what about physically?”

            I took a minute to consider his words. “Sore everywhere, but my left leg is by far the worst,” I replied.

            “But you can feel that leg?”

            I looked at him in confusion. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be able to?”

            He sighed and sat down in the chair beside the bed. “Your lower left leg was completely crushed in the accident. At first we thought we were going to have to amputate, but we had a specialist here who wanted to try and save your leg. Miraculously, he was able to do so, but we weren’t sure how much sensation would be left, even after all the surgeries.”

            It took me a moment to absorb his words. “Does that mean I won’t be able to walk again?”

            “Normally I would say that you wouldn’t be able to, but the fact that you can feel your leg means that you might retain the ability to move it. If that’s the case, then with a lot of physical therapy you could be able to walk again.”

            I closed my eyes and didn’t say anything else. I didn’t care if I never walked again. My twin, the person who I had shared my entire life with, the person who was my other half, was now gone. And apparently my ability to care had left with him. Like I had told the doctor earlier, I was empty.

            I heard the doctor leave and then heard the whispers as my parents, Cindy and Adam came back in. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep so they wouldn’t try and talk to me. And then I eventually did go back to sleep, and I welcomed the nothingness that awaited me.

            I stayed in the hospital for the next three weeks. During that time, Cindy and Adam continued to visit me along with my parents. I stopped talking unless absolutely necessary and I knew that it worried everyone, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

            One day I told Cindy and Adam to stop visiting me. Adam protested violently, but I refused to speak to him anymore. Eventually he gave up and stopped coming.

            Cindy, on the other hand, acted as if I’d never said anything. She continued to visit me every single day. She would come in the mornings and she always brought a book with her. She would sit beside my bed for hours and read silently. She never pressed me into conversation, so I didn’t bother telling her to leave me alone again.

            My parents tried really hard to find ways to cheer me up, but nothing helped. Even hearing about the horses gained no reaction from me. They tried having a psychiatrist talk to me, but since I refused to speak to him, it didn’t work that well.

            I eventually learned that it had been a drunk driver that had hit Luke’s car. Luke had been killed instantly, which gave me a small measure of comfort. At least he hadn’t suffered. The driver of the other vehicle had died as well, and I was morbidly pleased about that fact.   

            I suffered from nightmares that were so bad that the doctors started giving me sedatives at night so that I could sleep peacefully. I was told that when I went home I would have a prescription of strong sleeping pills to continue to help me until the nightmares lessened.

            On my last night in the hospital I laid awake, waiting for the sedative to take effect. I thought over all that had happened in the last three weeks. I knew my parents were incredibly worried about me, and for the first time I actually felt a twinge of guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it had come.

            No one understood that I wasn’t like this intentionally. I didn’t want to hurt the people who loved me, but I couldn’t help it. There was just nothing left inside me. Luke and I had never been apart for more than two nights before, and now he was gone for good. The connection we’d always had had disappeared, and it would never come back.

            How could I explain that to anyone who didn’t understand? I couldn’t, so I didn’t even try. Silence became my savior. If I didn’t talk, they couldn’t expect me to answer their questions. If I didn’t talk, I didn’t have to acknowledge the pain out loud. And if I didn’t talk, then no one would ever know that I wished I’d died with my brother.

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Writing in the POV of a depressed person is... depressing. Since I'm normally a very happy person, I hope I did okay with this chapter.

Because of the amazing response to the first chapter, I worked hard to get this one up quickly. The more you guys comment and vote, the faster I will try and get chapters up for you.

I know quite a few of you didn't want Luke to die, but it's very important to the story that he does, so try not to hate me too much.

Next chapter will jump ahead six months.

Comment to let me know what you think!