The light seeped through the slightly a-jar curtains. The shine from it lay on my face, I let the warmness of it sink into my skin. It felt good, making a small part of me feel more alive. Everything was quiet I couldn’t hear a sound, I felt empty. It was just me.
I sat up slowly making every move seem like it was extremely hard. I sat on the edge of my bed. I stood from my stiff posture, off my bed and started to walk towards the door. The only feeling I had inside of me was grief. It started right at the pit of my stomach and hurried up until it reached my heart where it hurt the most. It felt like something was ripping me apart, and the only way that I could keep myself together was if I griped at my stomach and squeezed like I was the cello tape. I felt invisible like I was slipping away and there was nothing I could grip onto to keep me here. I walked down the long narrow hallway of our house which I hadn’t seen in days, a week even. It hurt to breathe it felt like something was clogged at the top of my throat cutting of my oxygen supply.
I couldn’t handle it any more I collapsed at the top of the stairs in a bundle of tears, and clasped my hands over my stomach desperately trying to hold myself together.
“Anna!” I heard a voice yell from down stairs. I knew it was a voice that used to make me feel happy to hear, it sounded like bells ringing, birds whistling, making everything seem brighter. But I only wanted to hear one voice and I couldn’t, not now, not ever again.
“Anna,” The voice was closer now, she was out of breath when she finally reached me and sat down and pulled me in her arms. “Shhh… honey, don’t cry he wouldn’t want you to. Shhh everything’s going to be okay. I just know it.”
She always used to call it mothers instinct, but I wasn’t so sure. How could this pain in me ever fade?
*
I woke up to the smell of roast chicken; the smell filled me up like a tidal wave. And I suddenly realised how hungry I was. My eyes felt sore and dry, they had no moisture left in them I blinked a couple of times to get some back. The pain in me was still there but it was dulled from the rumble that came out of my stomach, which said I was hungry.
“Wow! Was that thunder?” my dad said jokingly as he looked over at me. I gave him a weak smile and walked over towards the kitchen. Everyone was in there own worlds, my mum was humming to herself in the kitchen which I could faintly make out as being ‘hard days night’ by the Beatles. Her hair was pulled neatly into a bun, and she had her apron on which was slightly messy. She gave me a smile when she saw me, I tried to give one back but it didn’t belong on my face so I nodded. My dad was sitting at the table waiting for his dinner, he had his plate, knife and fork out already and was reading the paper, properly the jokes or the movie list. He was completely oblivious that I was staring at him. His black hair was cut short, and he had stubble on this chin. My gaze moved and fell upon my brother, Tim; he was sitting on the coach looking at the TV. even though he was supposed to be doing his homework. We use to be so close; we use to hang out all the time. But in the last year he slowly drifted from me, and he just kept drifting till I couldn’t find any part of his old life to hold onto. He was 17 just a year older than me, and he had been changing in front of my eyes. He sat there just across from me with his hoodie up over his head looking at the TV; I couldn’t even see any part of his face that I recognise. He use to be so kind and caring, he never use to care what people thought about him. He was fun. Now all I saw was a too-cool-for-school mopey teenager, who properly took drugs and hated the world. He never talks to me anymore; he might give me a grunt if we bump into each other in the hallway. But that’s it. I miss him!
He lifted his head and saw me staring at him,
“Whatcha staring at? Freak!” he said with utter disgust.
“Tim! Don’t talk like that to your sister!” mum said, looking up and giving him the you’ve been warned look.
“Why? Will I give her another reason to run to her room and cry? Or collapse in the hallway holding her stomach crying? Or--- “
“Enough!” mum said, sternly making me jump and turn to look at her. I didn’t want Tim to see, but his words had hurt, and it was just another reason on how much he had changed. He would never use to intentionally hurt me. I felt the tears prick the corner of my eyes and fall down my cheek. He was looking at me now, and for a second I thought he was going to apologise but he just said,
“Look. She’s crying again.”
I felt so angry at him, for hurting me so bad. The words came tumbling out of my mouth before it was to late for me to stop.
“So what if I cry! I have a good reason too! My boyfriend died in a car accident just a week ago. How could you be so cruel, you would never use to talk to me like that. You’ve changed SO much; sometimes I don’t even know who I’m looking at. You are out all hours of the night you get drunk and properly take drugs!” I paused to swallow the lump that was growing in my throat. “You’ve been in car accidents and fights in bars, you come home black eyed and nose bleeding at least once a week! You have so many fines, that you won’t be able to pay of till your twenty-five! You think I don’t notice but no matter how bad my life gets I’m not the self absorbed to not notice! Sometimes I’m actually embarrassed to call you my brother!” I stopped and for a second I thought I had actually got through to him, or I thought I saw a glimpse of hurt, but he quickly recovered and said,
“Yea? Well deal with it!”
*
Soon after that he left the house in a huff, and didn’t come back till 4pm, drunk. I heard him downstairs falling over things.
“Oh Shit! Why the fuck is that laying there?” he said his words slurring.
It sounded like he was walking towards the kitchen and after he fell over a couple more time, and swore a lot it went silient.I felt worried what if he had collapsed? So I gently pulled the covers back off my bed, and tip toed down the stairs. Once I got near enough so I could see him and he couldn’t see me, I was stunned at what I saw. He wasn’t lying on the ground passed out like I thought, he was sitting at he breakfast bar, taking in deep shuttering breaths. I knew that the way his shoulders shook he was crying. He never cried not even when Granddad died, who he loved so much.
“Why’d you have to leave?” he said, his words slurring and he was hard to comprehend.”You’ve hurt her so much! I miss ya mate. It should have been me that day, not you!”
It should have been me that day, not you! These words rung in my ears as I climbed back up the stairs. I knew Tim and Marcus hung out sometimes, but were they friends? I couldn’t get back to sleep after that, and at around five I heard my brother scramble up the stairs and disappear into his room.
*
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