Why Am I Alone?

Sookie Prince is all alone...
Read her story.


3. My Little Blaine

Blaine was mine. I would hiss at anybody who came near him. I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want him to get hurt. I loved him.


"Blaine? Are you hungry?" I whispered in his ear one breezy morning. We lived on the park bench, even though I was filthy rich. I had $5,998,900 left.


He nodded weakly and said, "Cold too."


"Oh, goodness, Blaine! Look at me!"


He looked at my with sleepy eyes, a pale face, and pale lips.


"Goodness, Blaine, you're sick! We need to take you to the hospital!" I looked around. There was no possible way I'd let Blaine walk there. I found an abandoned kiddy wagon. I picked Blaine up like he was a baby and carried him into the wagon. Surprisingly, the wagon could fit him and all of the baked goods.


I ran up to the front desk of the hospital with Blaine. 


"Excuse me ma'am, but my little brother is sick. Very sick," I cried, "Can you get someone to help him?"


"Where is yoor mommy." Is all she said. She didn't even say it as a question.






'Uh, he's dead too."


"Then how awe you s'posed ta pay?"




"You got money, Kid?"


"Yep. $5,998,900, to be exact."


"Aweright. I'll call Doctor Finn."


"Thank you so very much."


"Eh-heh," she picked up a small speaker, "Doctor Finn, you awe needed."


Doctor Finn came.


"Hello, and what is the problem?" He spoke strongly. I pointed to the wagon. The lady whispered something in his ear.


"Uh-huh. Okay, may I know his and your name; first and last, please?"


"Uh, Sandra and Brinley Prescott. Those are our names. He's three; I'm seven. We're from Chicago." He didn't look like he believed me. He had an eyebrow raised.


"What state is Chicago in?" He asked.




"Alrighty, then. Come with me. Bring him along, too. Will ya?" I dragged the wagon behind me and followed him. The room he stopped at was marked as: Dr. Finn Kings Room 101. He unlocked it with a key and told me to go in before him.


He turned back to the door when he got in and closed it. Blaine was sleeping. I woke him up.


"Hey, Blaine," I whispered, "Want to play pretend? Let's pretend that you are my brother and our names are Sandra and Brinley Prescott. You're still three; I'm still seven. We're both from Chicago, Illinois. You have a cold. We're at the Doctor's now. Both of our parents are dead. Got it?" He nodded. "Good boy. By the way, you really are sick and we're really at the Doctor's. His name is Doctor Finn." He nodded again.

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