I'd Like to Walk Around In Your Mind

“I failed you,” she whispered finally, her voice cracking. 

...

...

“I failed Mom and Dad.”

...

Lena stirred faintly, her eyelids fluttering but unfocused. 

...

Place, self, time—none of it made sense. Everything was wrapped in a haze, like the world folded in of itself three times over.

...

Yet, she knew, from the bottom of her heart, that it was her fault. 

She didn’t look at Margot; she couldn’t. 

“They made me promise,” Margot continued, her voice trembling. “They made me promise that I’d take care of you. That I’d make sure you were okay. I told them I’d always be there for you. Nothing would change from when how it originally was.”

Her breath hitched, and she pressed her knuckles to her lips, trying to steady herself. “But I wasn’t, was I? I wasn’t there when you needed me. I wasn’t there when it got too hard. It should be the other around.”

Lena’s fingers twitched slightly, but she didn’t move otherwise.

Margot leaned forward, her voice breaking. “Why, Lena? Why do you do this? Why do you keep pushing, even when it’s killing you? What are you trying to prove?

“Why do you hate yourself so much?” Margot’s voice cracked, the question raw, jagged.

Lena’s eyelids fluttered weakly, and Margot leaned closer, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her hands tighter.

“I’ve been asking myself that question for years, Lena,” she continued, her voice trembling. “Every time you pushed yourself past the breaking point, every time you stayed silent when you should’ve screamed. And now... now you’re here, and I can’t pretend I understand anymore.”

Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as the weight of her guilt pressed down harder. “Was it me? Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say? Was it Mom and Dad? Did we not tell you we love you enough? Not show you enough? Because I swear to God, Lena, if it was... if it was, then I am a failure.”

Lena’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Her chest rose in a shallow gasp, her voice faint and broken. “It’s... not your fault.”

Margot shook her head, tears spilling freely down her face. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You’re here because I let you be. Because I looked the other way while you ran yourself into the ground. Because I thought—” Her voice broke entirely, and she covered her face with her hands.

She let out a shaky breath, her hands falling away as she looked at Lena again. “I thought you were stronger than me. I thought you’d tell me if it got too bad. My job pales in comparison to yours. The pressure of almost a trillion eyes watching. But you didn’t, did you? You just kept going, kept pretending like you didn’t need anyone, like it didn’t matter how much it hurt.”

Lena’s lips trembled, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t... want to... bother you.”

Margot let out a strangled laugh, bitter and wet with tears. “Bother me? God, Lena, you could’ve ‘bothered’ me every single day, every hour, every second, and I wouldn’t have cared. You’re my sister. You’re everything I have left. And you’re killing yourself because you thought it would make my life easier?”

Lena’s lips pressed together, her eyes brimming as a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that!” Margot snapped, her voice breaking entirely. “Stop apologizing like this is some minor inconvenience.”

Margot reached out, her hand trembling as she brushed a strand of hair from Lena’s face. “I love you,” she said softly. “I love you so much. And I know I don’t say it enough, and I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I need you to know that. I need you to believe it. Because if you don’t—” She choked on the words, shaking her head.

“Then I will have broken my promise.”

Lena stirred faintly, her eyelids fluttering, but she didn’t respond. Her lips trembled as if she might try, but no sound came.

Margot’s voice cracked as she leaned closer, her hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the bed. “You’re my little sister. You’re not supposed to die before me. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to leave me here alone. Do you hear me?”

A shallow breath escaped Lena’s lips, and her head turned slightly, just enough for her clouded eyes to meet Margot’s. Her voice came, faint and broken, a whisper more felt than heard.

“I... didn’t want to...”

The room settled into silence again, the machines filling the space with their steady hum. Margot kept her hand on Lena’s, her grip firm but gentle, as if she could tether her sister to the world through sheer will alone.