Joey sat in the living room, staring at the tv blankly. He had Fuzzy in his lap, petting the dog. He had very little life in him anymore. Since he came home, he's been silent, less complaining, and he just looked dead, inside and out. He's your brother, your big brother, the one who cuddled you after a nightmare, who let you stay in his room when your parents were fighting, who let you draw and play in his attic room.

But this wasn't him. Joey sat still and silent. You didn't know who he was. You stood in the kitchen, watching your brother just like your parents said. You were in the accident too, but you were reduced to an annoyance. Despite your injuries, you were pushed aside.

Joey couldn't even have medicine for a headache. You were stuck at home, watching over Joey while doing your school work online.