FLORENCE JENSEN WAS IN A DISTRESS STATE, she was in discussion with Laura's doctor, Emma Rickman. It has now been six months since her niece was admitted as a coma patient. Outside the clear, office glass window was a slouching Roberta, feet on the waiting room couch — mindlessly flipping the health magazine pages.

Roberta had changed her appearances some weeks ago — her ponytail had been chopped to a short crew cut — she wore a black motorcycle jacket like Roxy, with a stud piercing below her lower lip. She was listening to some classic heavy, death-metal music of the 90s on her iPod.

She then stood up — vexed by sitting around too long, and she ditched the health magazine impatiently on the side table — she exited from the waiting room...

She craved for a smoke — but it was a long walk to the parking lot of the hospital.

She got into an elevator instead, suppressed a floor button hard with her jabbing thumb — while with her other hand, she was toying with a metal lighter — doing lighting trick-moves that Roxy taught her to do with a Zippo.

Roberta stepped out while a Latina nurse entered into the elevator...

She wished it was another Mexican janitor so that she could beat the life out of him...

Roberta then passed the Nurse's desk in the hallway, and Nurse Eker looked up with a slight surprise — at Roberta's extremely pleasant voice...

"Hi, good evening, Nurse Eker — I am going in to see Laura. My aunt will be coming up shortly, is that okay?"

The old nurse nodded — the ten-year-old thanked her and left.

The woman feared what that little murderous monster was capable of — she still could not forget that night, many months ago, when she found the dead janitor in wardroom B-415 — with the entire wardroom wall painted red with his own blood.

*

It pained Roberta each time in her visits when she opened the wardroom door — to the very sight of Laura's selfsame comatose state. But these days, it raged her to see that her sister's stomach had grown bigger — with the child of the rapist in it...

Roberta managed to stay composed, and somehow she felt that she should not bring her furore into the room — it was negative energy — and she felt that the incognizant Laura could sense it too — Laura usually got a fever the following day.

Roberta also believed that her elder sister was telepathically looking after her in her own enigmatic ways, from the other side — as it was also her mother Martha's death-wish — that Laura should take care of her younger sister...

Roberta closed the door and locked it...

She walked straight to kiss her Laura's forehead. She sat beside her and fiddled with the 'Mimi' pendant that was worn on her sister, and she went on with her exuberant fake tone of voice — relating stories that she felt would cheer Laura up...

"Hi, sorry I did not come to see you for a week — I got kinda busy in school — and also was hanging out more with the guys. Oh yes, they are super-cool dudes, Laura — you will love them because they are about your age."

But, actually the excruciating sight of Laura's pregnancy that had made Roberta's visits to be less frequent these days — she rather de-stress herself by ignoring Laura's condition — by hanging out with 'the guys' after school or sometimes playing hooky...

'Her boys' had made her part of their motorcycle gang...

They had taken her to places where minors were barred — like to Duke Mercury — the underground dyke-bikers club, with live bands that played great flaming, heavy trash-metal music — it was certainly not the watered down, pop-rock music that she used to watch on reality TV shows back in Wellsville.

She also narrated to Laura of how her blood-buddy, Roxy Gillman was going to start a real motorcycle club for their gang — the kind of bike she wished to own someday soon — and how Roxy was masterminding the plan, to find ways to pipeline the money to get their monster-bikes...

Roberta had changed — and so had her tastes, her wants and dreams.

Her enthusiasm in narrating her stories to Laura also made her nicotine craving even greater. She stood up antsy — and she accidentally knocked Laura's medical chart file down...

She recognized the signature of someone she despised the second most — Laura's doctor, Emma Rickman — she kicked the chart file under the bed, and went to open the wardroom window...

It had been more than half a year, since they both came here to Columbus, Ohio — Roberta would be ten-years-old next month but she smoked half a pack of cigarettes a day these days, and some weed occasionally — mainly out of boredom, and of her daily frustration at home — and also, the need to be seen as a cool-guy like her peers...

After seeing Dr Emma Rickman's signature on the bedside chart — 'that useless doctor,' — it was really upsetting, she lighted up a Marlboro...

"Don't mind me smoking, yeah Laura? But come to think of it — the secondary smoke will do you good too — especially if it can kill the piece of crap that is growing in you."

According to Roberta — Emma Rickman was just a dumb-fuck doctor, who had not made any progress since the day Laura was admitted — and yet her dim-witted, stupefied Aunt Flo listened to all the medical craps and excuses, that was prevaricated by that 'unqualified' woman — whom in the opinion of the almost ten-year-old, might be a bogus doctor who was just chalking up the medical bills just to profit the hospital — and her stupid aunt paid them by taking up bank loans.

Roberta stepped on the seat, and sat on top of the chair's backrest with both her feet on the armrest — she continued blowing smoke while looking down at her elder sister's stomach...

"Damn, look at you — you don't need this shit in your life right now, Laura...

"I seriously wish there is some way the fucking doctors can kill it!

"But, your doctor — that fucking Emma Rickman is totally, a useless fuck — and she is still against the idea of an abortion. Her lame-ass excuse is that, you are still too young and weak — and you may get into some fucking complication, just because you are in a coma...

"Fuck that twat doctor! That is why they have let the cunting bastard, live inside you for now!"

For months, her mind played of how she wished she could have killed Javier Monroe in the act before he ejaculated during the rape — and with that, Laura would not have become pregnant — but also on why, at that moment, she hesitated from returning back sooner to fetch her jacket?

Her hesitation mistake of that night had also created this pregnancy mess it was now — it was entirely her fault for failing to protect Laura as she had promised before...

She could not control her negative out bursting thoughts today — and she needed to vent her traumata — just like when her aunt — who was still getting on to her nerves at home...

Even though they both lived there more as house-mates — but these days, she felt even lonelier and neglected — more like a domestic help in that condo — taking care of the house chores and her dogs after school — while that woman went out clubbing after work...

She sighed deeply before sliding down and sat back normal, on the seat of the chair.

Roberta gritted her teeth in anger of her frustrations — her fist went down to strike Laura's belly — but stopped inches away — then, her voice boomed out...

"Even if it is a baby girl, it is best to give it away, Laura!

"I know your Aunt Flo is not the mum-like type, and she will not know how to fucking raise it. I bet she will probably feed your baby with dog chow — then, I will have to shop for a can-opener for the baby shower gift."

Roberta's wicked sniggers turned out to laughing aloud when she went over to throw the cigarette butt out of the window.

She stood awhile with her elbow resting on the window sill while looking back at Laura — a recurring reminiscence started to playback in her memory...

It was the day her mother died...

*

Roberta was in the back-seat of the Buick when Laura instructed her to get out of the car that was hanging at the edge of the cliff — but Roberta hesitated in fear — glanced into the rear-view mirror in tears, and her pleading eyes met Martha's on it...

"Mum, I am afraid."

Laura finally managed to get Roberta crawling out of the car that swayed to and fro. Roberta then saw Martha pushing Laura away before the Buick began to slide downward — but, Laura leapt forward, grabbing the open door of the dropping car...

It dragged Laura down the cliff when it fell...

*

Roberta was messed-up emotionally, seated on the wardroom floor, and was mawkishly crying aloud...

"I hesitated and that was the cause for all of this — I hesitated, I guess Mum saw how afraid I was, and she sacrificed herself by not giving you the chance to save her..."

She picked herself up and lurched unsteadily to the bedside, and looked at her sister in a coma...

"Mum wanted you to be with me, Laura. If only I had listened to you and got off the car sooner, you would have saved Mum, and you would have been okay today — and even Mum too, she would be alive — it is entirely my fault..."

She hugged Laura's chest and cried, even more bitterly...

"I am so sorry Laura — Mum, I am so sorry."

Roberta carried this baggage of self-blame and guilt stigmas for a long time in her life...

Despite her tough-guy appearance, deep down, she was still a lonely girl in that city.