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eleanor no. 39 You think she’ll ever wake up? I told you. Ain’t like she’s sleeping. I know. But still. You think she will? Maybe. Doctor told Mom sometimes it takes years. Mom told Daddy she doesn’t know if Ellie’s folks can afford it. I guess it costs money. It’s just a bed. I know. But I guess there’s more to it than that. Maybe. Mom told me she saw you here yesterday. Yeah. Why didn’t you come get me? When you came here. I didn’t think you wanted to come see her anymore. I never said that. Yes, you did. I said I thought maybe I couldn’t do it anymore. That’s the same thing. It isn’t, really. Well, I didn’t come get you because I didn’t think you cared. That’s a mean thing to say, Jack. Then I guess I’m sorry. I mean it, that’s a really mean thing to say. Ellie’s my best friend. I know. What did you do? When? Yesterday. Oh. I, uh. I read to her. Read what? Stories. What kind of stories? She likes them Martian Chronicles. I read those. I didn’t know you read. Did you — nevermind. Did I what? Did you read to her before? Sometimes. Before the accident, I mean. I know what you meant. Did — did she read to you? Only once. She said she hated hearing her voice that much. Did you? Did I what? Did you hate hearing her voice that much? That’s ridiculous. Well? No. I liked it when she read to me. Oh. What? Nothing. Alright. It’s just — I like to read, too. Okay. Maybe you could read to both of us? I didn’t bring the book. Why not? Cause you were coming with. Oh. But – Look, Stace. It’s just a thing that we did. Me and Ellie. You and Ellie. Yes. Fine. I wonder if she knows when we come here. I don’t care. Liar. You care. I don’t. I think you stink, Jack. I don’t want you saying things like that. It’s true. You stink. You say whatever you want to me, Stacy. I don’t care. But don’t say it in here. Not like that. Not where she can hear us. You being stupid to me doesn’t make her feel better. She can’t hear. She’s — she might as well be dead. Say that again. No. Get out anyway. What? Get out. And don’t come back here with me. I hate you. No, you don’t. I do. I know you don’t. Now go away. I thought you said you didn’t bring the book. I didn’t. I leave it here. You’re staying? Go home, Stacy. I’m going to read to her now. I hate you. Okay. I do, I hate you. It’s okay. I can live with it. Comment on this entry |
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