Chapter 11

"My little hero!" Mr Elston he brought a basket nice snacks and he didn't come alone. It is visiting time in hospital hours, often the least secure time of the day. I am glad to have visitors like him see me.

"Mr Elston! I am glad you're ok." I smile, "This is my Mom." I directed about her and he shakes her hand.

"I am sure your heard about me. I am the guy your daughter saved. I couldn't believe my prayers with how everything happened." He shakes very excited, "This is my wife and two children." His wife shakes mom's hand too with same enthusiastic nature and and hugs in what seems a whisper. They two nattered quietly about everything. I smiled to the two that were sort of slightly older then me. They were casual dressed and weren't so happy to be here. Even when the realized how young I am.

"It's nice to meet you." I nod, "I would shake hands but the poison ivy I touched when I climbed over the fence." They nod not really listening to me, "You're lucky, so much you take for granted." I slightly frown, "Its boring here. I can agree with that at least." They looked to each other oddly and sit down at the edge of my hospital bed.

"Our Dad is always getting people stealing from his store. It no different to him it is always." I shook at this assumption.

"Two loaded guns pointed. No. That was intentionally done. If they wanted to steal because they were hungry, they wouldn't have money for guns and would have taken from the shelves." They whispered to each other, "What are you learning at school this week? Is it boring?"

"Wouldn't you know?" I shook at answer.

"The schools will not help me read and write correctly. Tell me that I am doing it wrong and doesn't help me see how to correct it. Mom moves me school to school but we haven't had help we needed. I love science and history though. Old history like Native Americans and Creatures back then. The science we could have to someday tell use how they lived and what they ate. Maybe know what the weather was like back then. They say there is machines that could do that someday. Maybe like them ones for blood types." They looked impressed that I am ahead of my age in how I think, "Someday it might just take a hair left behind to convict that trouble makers."

"Like one them space shows." I nod to this and this was the can of worms needed to get them talking. It makes both parents sides sigh at relief of how quick children get on.

I am glad to be the one for common grounds. I didn't care about what they look like and if they are older then I am. I listened when they spoke and took thought of the subject we shared. In a school setting we would never even share dinner tables because the culture of now is divided. I for one think ahead of what children of children will have. Like the older voice in me says it's sort of like. A day when race or colour is more open and shared. At least for today it's ok.

"There is a TV on here. What should we watch?" The remote passed to me.

"It may sound odd but I want to watch the news. Sometimes science stuff is talked about. The last time I checked they were worried about something with our power generators." I clicked it on to the news and we all fell silent at the pictures. How do I forget what day it is and the situation that leads me here? To be fair, I am really young. I will remember but in a haze.

The eyes of the entire world falls on watching the fall of the twin towers. The watch of what could seem rubble wasn't always stone or plane. The picture was grainy for the tv wasnt fantastic then but there wasn't any mistakes for what was really happening. There is disbelief that it was happening. The horror that a bunch of families and those trying to save and protect are about to be crushed under that steel, glass and stone. The remote taken from me and the volume raised.

"The second tower is falling." The first tower tilted into the second. We hoped it was just one, not both. Now both were crumpled and more things fell.

The global trade stock center crashing over everything. This will hurt our pockets later too, so my older voice tuts. I teared up because, I can understand. Where as the other two children here watched the image blankly, unable to frame or understand the devastating consequences. The reporter couldn't say anything. No one spoke for the whole duration. Only with every hour to tell late tv switchers that 'the world trading center is falling.' The gasp of my mother reels me in, as a helicopter closer to the event shares images. You see into the building of people trapped and unable to escape. The rumbled above had blocked the ground exits. The creaking and wobble by the pull weight of itself unable to sustain lift. There will be a point where the buildings will collapse like a freak accident demolition demonstration.

"Its going to taken them years to find everyone under all that." I found myself saying.

The reporter gasped and with a wobbled uncertainty spoke again. This times wasn't to repeat what is going on.

"We do not know at this time of this was accident or a terrorist attack. We do have information coming in that they refused radio contract before it happened. We don't know anything for why this happened at this point of time." They shuffled a paper, "What we do know as a report is coming in, the aircraft was rented and was meant to take a flight avoiding the area. The air traffic control were unable to contact the in flight people. We can not confirm of this was intentional or accidental. We continue to watch the collapse of the world trade center. Give prayer to all these people. Today will not be forgotten." It really will not be. It be in conversation for years to come.

Every hour will be a run down of things that can be confirm, the progress of how much has fallen from the start. The update emergency services can give. It takes no less then 5 and half hours before the dust clouds clutter any visible picture owlf what is going on. The clean up of such things is going to take years... bodies of the dead will continually found within that time. The entire duration I was in hospital this was on the news, as more details to the larger investigation becomes clear. The reporter may give suggestions of possible things but between images was always silence.

"Visitors will need to leave soon." A nurse reminding us. I looked to the adults, so pale and awakened from trauma. The two children also shivered and the son who cries. Goes to his mom. His is the younger of the two. The daughter follows.

"9.11" My mom sighed, "That's what we will remember most." The date. Yes. When this is mentioned the memory will show for those that lived in that moment. I hug her because I felt left out.

"We will pay for the lawyer. It's the least we can do. She is my hero." Mr Elston reeling back to his current problems, "I believe in defending her. When she told me she came for help and seen I was in trouble. She didn't do nothing. I should return this favor." My head pet by him. Mom shaking back to focus of it all.

"We will do this together." She sighs.

"Worry about the hospital bills first." He advised, "We aren't rich either. Be we can do this together." She sighed in having to accept this, "Because we are sharing a lawyer. You can ask advice about him and court issue." She sighed longer and nods to this.

"We will make it. We can get by. Just have to do what we can." She messed my hair and has me lay down. The visitors had to leave. She followed them to talk put the doors. I waved towards the folks my age. They wave back holding hands of their mom. Left to my own for now, tv suddenly speaking of a run down again. I look that way, continue to watch history marked for be remembered.

"Wow... this is live broadcast." The undertaker peers at the images and was in my way for a bit. He moved with taking a seat at the bed, "The images are so blurry."

"Someday computers can clean the pictures. Maybe they will figure out what happened." I spoke alone as his voice like mine. He didn't echo in the room. My voice does bounce off the walls. They had a second helicopter flying around for images and the draft was helping the clouds of dust being pushed down quicker. Everything covered in powder cement dust, "I hope those lost in such a terrible fate will pass over with no sorrow." I rub my eyes and the undertaker looked more visible when I finished. The machine for my heart was silent. The tv stopped at half framed made image, mid laser image change. The clock above the door out stopped working.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"I am meant to be 2." I sit up with crossed legs and back to holding my arms across me, "Are you alright, Curiosity?" He blinked at me, "Are you ordered to be here or did you come here wondering why a little girl like me can see you?" He chooses silence, "The events of how things happened has changed. The outcomes mirrors what was. I was always going to watch 9 11 from a hospital bed. But I met my grandparents the last 911. This time it's a attempt murder. So. Is this became you are meddling?"

"I was ordered to watch you." I shurg at this. It means little of his intent of being my friend or treating me like a stranger, "Have we met?" He stared at me like I was the problem.

"You can call me by my other nickname. The one that Tricksters will learn about at somepoint. I am Tricky. I am a Tricky Trickster. I have a book. I am cursed." I straight my legs and stretch and peer at how nothing around me changes, "They dont want to accept an outsider like me. A shame really. They will want me for power. Just as you lot do. But there isn't power to give. There isn't anything but sorrow." He didn't write this, "You not writting like you always do. So you must be ahead of me." He jolts a little, "Are they going to try to take my life again? They can't keep doing this. It will make the books angry." He shuffled and offered his left hand to me.

"Its pointless to make an enemy of you." I must have done something or my older self had, "Can we agree that we can try to make a common ground to work together?"

"Are you using your left hand to lie or are you protecting us?" He looked at his hands confused, "A trickster will always cast a curse or bless with the right hand. They use the left to agree to disagree. You are a normal undertaker, you don't have this practice. But I want to be sure. Are you being nice to make a middle for us to stand? Are you trying to stop me from something else? does something I do harm your way? It doesn't surprise me if that is the case."

"You make the only living undertaker to make a difference among the living in a significant ways we can't. You aren't controlled by those making more work for us. I offer my hand in hoping we can make peace." I now shake his hand.

"I will do what I can to stand among purgatory." The coldness of his hand pours something through me, my arm altered and then the rest of me. I can feel my skin prickle of bumps and a softer of some sort of ice through my veins. This clawed through even my mask, creating paint upon the surface and now eyes that fixed to a shape. The creaks smoothed and seems part of masks overall integration.

We let go of our hands and the room time blurs around us like everyone was speeding faster around then us. I felt differently inside, my thought were echos of many thoughts and still soothing and calm. I felt directions that weren't exactly there and maybe sometime feel like I could reach a hand to grasp clothing of those being rude. Not that made sense of why it seemed rude. My arms looked painted, my skin were two tones like a artist have brush life over me lightly.

"You have taken a undertakers oath." Curiosity claps both hands in front if him, "You can now interact with us without the interface of disrupting you living life. You must stay among the living as one the conditions to borrow this ability. You can come visit my side for any time you need a more experienced helper. But it isn't a place for you to stay and mustn't go alone." I nod at this, "Be aware that what you change has side affect. You could end the world without knowing it or prevent a life that should have been gone. There is order. We must keep it." I nod once more and he pattered about himself. He took out a new copy of the handbook guide. It wasn't signed in or named within. He gives it to me. It disappeared on my touch which he blinks about for a moment and then sits down at my side.

"I wonder what the rest of those people that outcast me will think now that I have been recognized but authority like you." I pouted, "They aren't nice to me. Only be nice to me so that they sweet talk the books." I ball up and looked about his style of clothing. He still the cosplayer from some video game. Gothic clothing and white hair. He seems ageless and not. He acts young but his overall way of things is someone much older and wise. He isn't a partner with anyone, "Will you be sending me to a school that will correctly help my Dyslexia?" I asked.

"I don't know." He sounded unsure of me asking something like that or he was lost in his thoughts for other things. I sighed at how distant he is with that. He seems very with it suddenly, "What is holding you back from getting on with learning?"

"I guess my explaining of what Dyslexia is. It isn't good enough for understanding." I see that the blurr of a nurse is coming in. She checked my machines and she hovered with talking to my mom. They left the room. She came back quickly and upset too. She sits close to me and defending me. I waved with returning myself to current time. She was stressed out about being here for even longer. They must have diagnosed me with something else on top of the poison ivy treatment. I had not realized it myself that there was more problems.

"What are we going to do?"She plays with my hair and mostly was speaking to herself. Curiosity steps into borrowing her. He didn't make her do anymore that wasn't unlike her. She held me close and sighed in continued long moments of silence.

"It is sad that all those people were gone caused by that plane." I talked with pointing to the news showing a still image of the before and after. The skyline of drastically changed without them. They had a ground witness talking over the phone to the studio about the bodies being found and the lasting heart break of families looking for loved ones. Any ID found was a potential missing dead person among rubble. Anyone that they can reach in time to save is a one less person to search for.

"Where do you think happens to them?" I asked and she thought long before answering me.

"When we die, we bury what is left behind into the ground. Some believe in reincarnation which is to be born agian among us with no memories and others think we move to a new life beyond this one. Some go to a place called hell because they are bad. There is heaven for good people and animals. There is many beliefs and religion. It's up to you what you think. I have never wanted to make you believe in something you don't think is right. I want you to understand that all those people gone. They are not going to see their families. They are gone gone. I know it is hard but do you think that you can understand?"

"They are gone physically. That they will no longer able to walk and talk again."

"Yes. that's right. They are dead. They are gone. That's what that means." I frowned because I understood and that it was difficult to sallow. I look back to the tv.

"I hope they can live a happy new life. No matter what they believe." I said, "Its up to us to believe in something." She pets my head, "I don't feel any better or worse. Was the nurse worried?"

"You mustn't worry about it. We have to worry about other things. What you going to wear in court? You have to dress nicely and speak only the turth. You must not lie to those people and it's ok be scared of a room full of people listening to you. But you have to tell them what they must know. Answer the questions the best you can." I nod. We talked about my full name and how to say my birthday. She kissed my forehead and we settled to nap together. She was mostly awake and playing with my hair in deep thoughts.

There was a conversation in the room near me about when I will be allowed to leave. They found I have allergies to some types of medicines and that I was lactose intolerant. The delay of me leaving is due to the reaction I was having with a antihistamines with red dye in. That was taken off them instantly due to my discomfort and skin rash caused from taking one. A skin rash was taking a while to settle more then the posion ivy burns. Especially my arms with was why they have them bandage to stop me itching them. I shouldn't have any scars except the one I gave myself on my tummy. My habit of holding the area was the unconscious itching of it. She will have to lotion cover my arms and back when we leave hospital. They recommend anything soothing, leaving it to her discretion to pick something that will not increase chances of medical shock.

She gave them the ok to disclose all my medical history to the police and court. She asked for a DNA swab on me to use as compare in court to come. She gave her swabs to, proving she is my Mom. It seems silly that she wouldn't be, I have her traits and I have his traits. The undertakers seem keen on learning how the science worked, a pair in a new type of uniform followed where the swabs went. She was talking to a lawyer over the phone. The court over who is fit to look after me is happening. Given the changes meddled by undertakers. I may never go back to England in this early life.

For as much there is a case again him for having a gun on me. Putting him for attempt murder. Who going to believe a little voice like mine in a serious place of court. I doubt it I would be properly listened to. There is also the issues of my mom sour of things. We haven't loved in a stable place. I am not doing well at school. I am left alone a lot, not her fault but it's a factor.

This just in mine mind warning me, this case goes either way. The outcome maybe that I am taken out of my mom's care and stayed away from his. I will be placed legal mutual care, a board school or grandparents. I wonder if he will spin it as his parents are dead. Maybe they are. But I remember a phone number that was thiers.

The tv is still on the news. It's became to dark for helicopter footage. It's ground work of lights being placed everywhere to continue hoping for life. The reporter warning everyone in the area to keep a look out for any dead that landed on adjacent smaller roofs. It's horrific.

A national emergency that had the army pulling what remained of people and clean up the rubble. How dangers of what was still standing was waving about in the gentle breeze. The morning report of more lives taken due to the structure integratity collapsed on them. The talk of any place... everyone talked in sorrow of this.

The tv was turned off with the doctors return to check my skin everywhere. The allergy has subsided for now. Something about my blood test results seems a little off but they could say for certain. Given my age, they want me to return to have a check up when I am slightly older. Whatever extra it was they suspected was not something we can afford. I can read mother's face clearly that she hopes it wasn't what they were saying it might be. Chalk it to maybe being a early bloomer, is the hope.

Back to living with my aunt... less money to buy food because my meds are now more expensive (given I can't have red dye based meds). I am once more back into a sort of a normal life with abilities to see beyond. My sight doesn't change much. Only when I have to care about my families bad days. The occasional visits from undertakers in disguise doing things behind my moms back to help her. Mysterious money flow from some sort of side job my mother has taken on as a third job. We living just about the same as before. Same amount of food on the plate each day. A rare once in a while that we go to the dollar store for small stuff. She looks so tired.

Any attempt of the new state school learning goes on without change. Once again faced with being unable to get past my own inability. Officially I can count to 100 and know all the letters in the alphabet (just not in order). I can use simple sentences and have scribbled writting that is somewhat readable. But it doesn't take long to feel left behind. To be left alone and alienated with those around me going to the next grade without me. The sour tone of a teacher having me here as a repeat. I stopped trying to talk to people, I seem to only expect bad things anymore. Any sort of celebration is sour with 'finally to did it after repeating the year'. Close family doesn't see any different, look down upon as the stupid child. Somedays I could even see my mother struggling with me. I need change for us to get out of this, if I am better then I can do better.

I guess my chance will be in a week's time. In court. Not only have they not settled any agreement between them. The person who is mean to be my father seems to out right deny I am his. The man must really be stupid if he still thinks that and yet also tried to kill me. They assume my young age will make me forgive and forget.

A shame that I remembered most of staring at the TV thinking about how many souls were harmed due to the incompetence of book keeping. Meeting a man I saved and the two robbers that also saved off death row. The families behind them kept together due to this.

My head hurts from all this deep thinking and I feel heavy. My shoulders hurt. My heart feels fragile. In spite of sitting at the dinner table as a family. I feel disconnected from them. I had nothing interesting to share, so I am excluded from the conversation. Even my brother was more interested in the news about aunt having a baby soon. I made the only one to stayed broken and silent. No bad frown or smile. They assume I didn't understand or that I was speechless on thier news.

I knew about the baby coming for a while. What timing for such a important court date that this child will be brought home and plague us with no sleep. How more exhausted can my mother be before it is enough. If only she would listen to me.

To move. In the long run, it's for the better. Even if in the short term we break creaks in an already dysfunctional family.

I finished my food as always. I silently waiting to leave. Watched the hugs of my mom joke to her sister. Saying 'the joy of what it means to parent'. Ignoring the fact that this is my aunts second child. My brother already slammed his room door on us for this great news.

My uncle seems to be one to note my lack of any sort of reaction for this long. He choose to say nothing, but I am sure he knew that maybe this was my way of disliking the idea of a baby around here. His a great man, he will carry them through the early years just fine. I am happy for him at the least. Even if I don't appreciate it in the short term.

I went to bed on time, no later and not earlier. Just long enough to try to practice letters again. Staring at a page of struggle.