"Pitter, patter, pitter, patter" It was one of those gloomy summer days, when even the animals are nowhere to be seen.  My mother used to say, "The world is crying, Sierra, and even the birds are heavy-hearted." The last time I heard those words were about three months ago.

Nobody really talks to each other anymore. I wish my family could move on. Go back to be the way it used to be.  Just  John, Ellie, Mom, Papa, Milo (our dog), and I.  Minus Mom now, and not so much Ellie, she was mean to me, but even then, I still miss her now that she is in college. At least she didn't avoid me, like the rest of the family is.

"I'm sorry, but despite all of our efforts, she didn't make it," were the exact words the surgeon spoke to me. Grown-ups are weird that way.  They try to avoid saying certain words because they think it will hurt less. They are wrong because it just makes it hurt more. After that one day, nothing has been the same. Papa used to be a doctor, the best of the best, but he gave up once he saw that not even medicine could save Mom. Now, he mostly just slumps around all day, complaining about the weather, us, and the stock market.    

Tonight for dinner we ate baked potatoes and ramen.

"Pass the potatoes Sierra,"

I shot up, my father was speaking to me.  

Taking advantage of this, I replied."Of course! How was your day?

"Mm,"

Suddenly his potato seemed to interest him.

I tried again, "I heard the weather is going to be nice tomorrow.  Are you excited?"

"I guess..." he replied vaguely, still studying his potato.

I wanted to yell, and scream, and shriek so loud. Enough for glass to shatter.  I wanted to say, "Look, I know you are suffering, but the rest of us are, too. Could you please just look at me?"

I managed a crisp nod. I caught John looking at me, but when I looked back at him he looked away.  Something needed to be done about this.

After I awoke the next morning, I devised a plan. I would stay in a closet and read during dinner and force my family to come find me. Ten minutes before dinner I crawled  in the closet with my book and my watch, hoping for the best. Ten minutes later, I heard the 6:30 alarm go off.  It was time for dinner.  Some seconds later, I heard Papa's booming footsteps, thundering down the stairs. Then John's sort of shuffle down the stairs, as he liked wearing slippers, but they were a tad too big on him.

I waited, five minutes had passed, now ten, the only thing that happened was that Milo sniffed me out. I didn’t like Milo very much, his fur color reminded me too much of Mom. the only one who liked him was John. Trying to distract myself, I started reading, but I couldn't concentrate.  I looked at my watch. fifteen minutes had passed. How could this be happening?

I rushed down and peered inside the dining room. There they were, sitting there, just eating dinner, acting like nothing was wrong.

How could they do that? There were too many things that were wrong!   I rushed outside, tears flooding out my eyes. I immediately went to my favorite climbing tree, a weeping willow, and climbed. I never wanted to see my family again.  I never wanted to see the ground again. The wind was in my hair. I had never gone this high before. It felt nice to get this out of me.  I just wish that disgusting dog, Milo, would stop looking at me. Suddenly, I heard a crack, and the world fell before my very eyes.

*****

It was just the two of us, Sierra wasn't at the table. We assumed that she was reading or something and she hadn't heard the alarm.

"What is wrong with that dog! Why is he barking like that, John?" said Papa, exasperated by all the noise while he was trying to eat.

" I don't know. I've never heard him bark like that. Do you think he's hurt? " I said. Papa and I walked out to the patio, where the noise was coming from. "What's wrong boy? Are you alright?" Milo ran down, heading towards the spooky weeping willow tree. "Is that Sierra?" I asked.  Papa's eyebrows creased. As we got closer there was no doubt about it, that was Sierra.

Father ran up to her and shook her.  When he got no response, he checked her heartbeat and blood pressure. A look of relief fell over his face.

"Fortunately, it doesn't look like anything too serious happened to her.  It is probably just a concussion.  I'll call an ambulance," he said, "Hello, this is Maxwell Lawrence speaking,... Yes this is an emergency, my daughter is out cold!... Okay, we'll see you then"

Papa hung up.

"An ambulance is coming to bring her to the hospital in roughly fifteen minutes," Papa explained.

We examined the area.  A few minutes later, the ambulance came and brought us to the hospital.

Sierra had a concussion.

Papa oversaw every single thing they did to her, and if he didn't like it, he made sure they knew. I haven't seen Papa this involved in months, and Sierra seems to be recovering very well. At this rate, the doctors say, she will be completely healed before school starts in three weeks ( Sierra probably won't be too happy about that).

                        *****

Above me the ceiling was pure white, unlike my room, which was a very soft blue. It was also quite chilly, which is unusual for a day in my house.

"Where am I?" I wondered. It took me a moment, and then I remembered the fall. I looked around the room. There was a nurse near the door, and in a corner, John and Papa, who hadn't noticed I was awake yet, were chatting in the corner.

I smiled, it looked like my plan had worked, just not the way I planned.