"Hello?" I answer my phone as it interrupts me scrolling through my social media.. My dad had just called at a really random time. It was late and normally, he didn't call this late. He never calls this late. During the past two and a half weeks, he has never called around this time because he knows I'll be going to bed soon or I'll be asleep.
"Madison. Your brother's in the hospital." He says frantically and sounding like he was trying to hold back from crying. I sit up in my bed more.
"Oh my god. What happened?" I ask quickly, getting out of bed, going downstairs. At this point I could hear my dad on the other end not able to hold it back anymore and he's sobbing. "Dad, what happened?" I ask, putting on a jacket.
"He-" He pauses trying to speak. "He tried killing himself. I fo-ound him and he w-was freaking out bec-cause he took some pills and h-he cut too deep a-and he was scared." He stutters through the sobs. As soon as I hear it, my hand slaps over my open mouth and tears start to pour from my eyes. I had one shoe laced and one half way on when he had said that. I can't move a single inch, I can barely even come up with the words to speak. "He didn't even get Michael's genes, he got his genes from me. Madi, I don't know how to deal with this all over again. As soon as I saw him crying with blood running from his wrists, I lost it. I saw Michael." He sobs out. I couldn't even take this. Hearing that my little brother attempted to end his life just kills me.
"Da-ad?" I hiccup through my sobs. He hums, letting me know that I have his attention. "Is he going to be o-okay?" I ask, wiping my cheeks from the constant tears.
"I don't know yet, Madison. I'm in the waiting room right now and I think the doctor is coming. I'll call you back as soon as I find out. I promise, Madi. I love you." He says quickly, hanging up before I could say anything else. I felt so numb. It felt like I just lost another part of me when I don't even know if Alex is gone or not. I look down at myself, my jacket and shoes on. I look up and all I see are the family photos lining the mantle. Then I realize I'm not in Sydney, I'm in LA at the house. Then I realize that Alex is in Sydney and there's no way to go see him at all. Tears start to fall down my cheeks again and I hit the vase on the coffee table out of frustration, making it crash to the floor. It didn't break but the flowers and water were everywhere. It's so hard not being home.
I wake up the next morning on the couch, the water from the vase was still there and the flowers were slowly starting to wilt even if they weren't in the water for a few hours. I look at my phone to see that I had missed calls and messages. I open the messages to see they were from Dad. He basically told me to answer my phone. I decide to call him, not realizing that it's probably late there. He picks up in only two rings.
"Hey." He sighs, calmer now than he was when I last talked to him.
"Is he okay?" I ask, trying my best to not get worked up at the thought of the situation.
"Yeah. He's fine. He didn't cut too too deep and the wounds got stitched up fine. They pumped his stomach and they said that he should be fine. They want him to stay for supervision, but I told them that I refused to let them do that. I want Alex home and under my supervision. I'll take care of him myself." He huffs, sounding frustrated. I sigh in relief that he was okay.
"I'm just glad he's okay." I sigh again. "It's hard not being there. It is. I just want to go see him and ask him why. Things just got a lot harder because I'm here and not there." I frown, taking off the one shoe I still had on. "I started to get ready to leave and then I realized that I was in LA and you guys weren't."
"I know, Madi. It's hard. I promise, it'll be better soon."
I put the clean dishes away. I go into the living room, turning on the TV, watching the news. Most of the news here is about celebrities. I'm just watching the news when Alex texts me. Ever since he got out of the hospital earlier, he's been texting me. Just recently he had texted me after a long pause in our conversation.
"Go watch the news. You want to see this." He texted. I furrow my eyebrows, texting back.
"I am watching the news?" I type. Not to much later he replies.
"Just watch." And so I did. It took a while for them to come on with something that I recognized. I recognized it from anywhere.
"Almost 15 years after the tragic death of Michael Clifford, fans are still supporting the rockstar. It's not only the rockstar himself, nor his husband, Luke Hemmings, but their son." The news lady says to the camera. I look up quickly to see tweets that are supporting Alex. "Fans are tweeting the hashtag 'WeLoveYouAlex' on twitter and other social media after the alleged suicide scare from the 18 year old. The fans have been tweeting him non stop, sending him love and positive thoughts to get him through the rough time." She says. I actually haven't seen this, unless I just haven't seen it on my twitter. "One girl tweets 'We love you so much Alex. It gets better, just pull through. You can make it. #/WeLoveYouAlex'" My reaction to all of this is exactly how in the world did the paps all of a sudden start following my family again? It's been a while since the last time and that was when I was ten. They gave up on it so long ago. I was about to stop listening when I hear my name. "It's said that Hemmings and Clifford's daughter is back in LA, visiting the city she grew up in, but the trends aren't necessarily in her favor." The news lady reports again. I swear, I guess this whole segment is about us because apparently when you mention 3/4 of the family in a positive note, you have to mention the fourth member in a negative note. "Fans are tweeting Madison, telling her that it's her fault for the suicide scare because she left Sydney. There have also been tweets from fans saying that she hates her family and doesn't want all of the publicity. I would read you an example tweet, but all of them are too harsh to even show here on our broadcast." The lady finishes the news about my family. I then immediately go onto Twitter, to actually realize all of these things are being said and there is nothing good about me at all. Nothing.