Louis' stomach rolled, threatening to come up. He squeezed his eyes shut to force the memory away before it could replay. He shoved the sheaf of papers into his open suitcase and looked at the little trail of blood on the floor.

His vision blurred momentarily, something that for Louis was a sure sign he was going to vomit. Sure enough, he felt his stomach rising, and he ran to the bathroom, not thinking about waking his mother as he slammed the door shut.

Louis had hardly reaches the toilet before he vomited violently.

"Lisa, I'm cold!" Louis shivered. "Where's mommy?"

"I know bud. Mom is at work. You're stuck with me." Lisa looked at her six year old brother with teary eyes. "I'm sorry you don't feel good, Lou Bug."

Lisa had awoken at nine to find Louis peering at her, pale and hair sticking to his forehead. He had promptly informed her that he 'felt icky' and knowing Louis as she did she had immediately ushered him to the bathroom. This is where they had been sitting the past half an hour.

"Lisa!" Louis suddenly jerked up, his face going a shade paler. "I'm gonna be sick!"

Lisa sat him on his knees in front of the toilet and held him at his waist.

"I don't wanna be sick!" He exclaimed frantically, starting to cry. "I don't want to, Lisa, I don't!"

"I know, Lou Bug, but you'll be okay after. Just breathe."

Louis took a deep breath and promptly vomited. It continued for several minutes, partly due to his sobs. When he finished, he glared at her.

"You tricked me." He narrowed his eyes at her.

Lisa couldn't help but giggle a little. "I'm sorry, bud."

She wiped his mouth with some toilet paper and he sank backwards until he was curled in her lap.

"I'm tired now, Lisa." His eyes were closing, and he was fighting adorably to keep them open. "I wanna sleep."

"Go to sleep, love." Lisa kissed his sweaty forehead, brushing his hair back. "I'm right here."

Louis' tiny fist tightened on her shirt, clutching a ball of the fabric in what appeared to be a comfort. He mumbled something, his voice muffled, face now pressed into the fabric.

"What was that, kiddo?" She asked softly.

"I said thank you, Lisa Lovebug." He whispered sleepily.

He was so cute when he was tired, even sick. Lisa's heart melted the way it always did with him.

"Anytime, little brother." She whispered, rubbing his back until he fell asleep. She knew it would be wise to stay put in the bathroom, so she didn't try to move him. "I'm always here for you."

Louis vomited again, tears flowing down his face. "You lied, Lisa. You aren't here. You should be here."

He coughed, trying and failing to keep from throwing up again.

"I'm sorry, Lisa Lovebug, you shouldn't be gone. You didn't deserve it, it's all my fault. It's all my fault, I killed you."

He knew Lisa would say no. She would protest and convince him he had no blame in her death. This was one time he wouldn't believe her.

His blood was dripping onto the toilet seat now, and the sight sickened him. He vomited once more, then flushed the toilet and stood straight.

He cleaned off his hand, pulling a small shard of glass out, and bandaged it up. He rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth before setting off to clean the blood he had spilled. He glanced into the hall, seeing the shattered glass outside Lisa's door. He couldn't stand near that door, not again. He felt bad for it, but he left the glass there for his mother to clean. He knew she wouldn't mind--he knew she had opened that door before, at least once or twice.

Louis swiped the dampness from his face and flopped back into his childhood bed. Without thinking he reached for his phone.

You awake?

Ugh, I am now. What is it? Do you know what time it is?

I just threw up and I don't want to be awake alone right now.

Are you sick?

No, just crazy.

Why?

I opened a door.

Okay. . .

My sister's.

Repeating last text. . .

Hard to explain. Wound up slicing my hand open.

How?

Broke something.

So you threw up because you can't stand the sight of blood?

Yes. And memories.

Talk to me.

Can't yet.

Why not?

Because.

Because why?

Because you'd leave me.

No I wouldn't.

Promise?

Promise.

Annabelle, my sister died.

Okay, and?

I killed her.