Memories

"Alexander Grant! How many times I've wished to see your face..." Mr. Collins smiled at me, pausing to meticulously clean his glasses then propped them up on his nose. "You've grown, boy." He said this quietly, then gave me an affectionate hug. He smelled of pine needles, like he always had and I breathed it in with relish. He looked the exact same as he did when he used to teach me in Year 8 science; ruffled brown hair that had a few grey hints to it, blue eyes that seemed to reflect whatever he was looking at, grubby brown suit and scuffed boat shoes.

I could have described what he'd be wearing today with my eyes closed.

He held me at arms length and gestured towards a desk at the back of the room. "Sit, we have much to discuss." He paused then added "Would you like a glass of something?" "Just water, thank you." I said slinging my back into an empty chair and sliding into the seat. "Ah, I've missed your immaculate manners." Mr. Collins chuckled, his voice low and husky as he padded out of the classroom.

To tell you the truth I didn't want to be here, I thought that being in this room would bring back the memories. I flinched at the word, but the wall stays solid. I know I have to be here, I need to be here to confront what happened, to let go off all the weight. I run a hand through my hair and take a deep breath, looking down. As I looked down at the hard wood of the desk, I noticed two initials on it.

CG

I was weeping before I knew it, the tears run thick and fast as the memories flood in. I tried to block it out but the wall was crumbling; fast. My hands were grasping the desk, my knuckles as white as a ghosts. Flashes of me sitting out our dining room table, not saying a word, just sitting there in silence, for days. Too caught up in the torture in my head that I didn't want to face the real world. Flashes of Callum's thin face, sitting right next to me, scribbling in his notebook while Mr. Collins spoke to the class. That awful moment when he gave a loud grunt and clutches his chest and spasms. The ambulance had come and loaded him up, they had his number, as they had all people with serious heart conditions, but they where too late.

My twin was gone. My twin, my twin, my twin. The sentence circles in my head like an excited puppy. My twin, my twin, my twin.

And I'm back to the dark tunnels in my head, the tunnels that bring memories, so many memories. They torture me, teasing me by saying that I could have saved him. I'm crying now, crying almost as much as when I sit at our house and watch as we all sink into depression. Watch as the photo of Callum seems to frown at me, blaming me for his heart attach. Watch as everything deteriorates.

"Alex?" Mr. Collins said quietly in my ear, his was voice anxious. I lifted my hands from my tear stained face and turned to look at him. "Oh, Alex." He murmured, pulling up a chair and rubbing my back with a calloused hand. "Where have you been?" He asked softly, his hand grasped my own. "I don't know, sir." I murmured, my voice hoarse and soft.

"Alex, look up." Mr. Collins said. I look up tentatively, hesitantly folding my hands in my lap like a prep. "I-I'm sorry for that." Mr Collins shakes his head. "You've nothing to be sorry for." He looked at me, but he found no response so he continued. "Your therapist tells me that your improving." I shrugged my shoulders. "Please, Alex. I know it's been tough with Callum-"

"Don't you dare say his name." I say, looking down at the floor. "It's been hard on all of us, but we need you to focus." He fished something out of his pocket and showed it to me. "Cal left this for you." It was a small silver locket. I took it carefully, as if I did it any harder it might shatter. This was the locket that had always been around Callum's neck, and no one knew what was in side. I'd always thought it was a photo of mum, but as I looked in side I gasped.

It was a picture of me and him, laughing like we'd won the lottery and wearing cordial smiles and grubby shirts. I remembered that day. We had been at the park and me and Mum had brought big bottles of cordial and loads of chips and we had had a sort of mini picnic on the rough turf. I remember how happy I'd felt to have Callum next to me. I remember that feeling, one of pure happiness, one so bubbly and certain that I'd felt like we'd spend our whole lives like this. Fresh tears spiked my eyes as I realized that I'd never wrap my arm around Callum's shoulder and laugh at the world. But I had to move on.

I fastened the chain around my neck and closed it carefully, placing it delicately on my neck. It was as if a blossom of happiness was growing inside my belly, spreading it's way through my veins and growing and growing. I felt more alive than I'd ever felt since Cal's funeral and it was all crystal clear to me now.

Cal would have wanted me to be happy, Cal would have wanted me to be alive. And I realized that I should be grateful to be alive, I should be grateful that I don't have a heart condition, I should be grateful that I can live and breathe the air. Mr. Collins was looking at me, waiting for a response. I looked into his eyes that had always seemed so mysterious and understood, that he cared about me, and he'd cared about Cal.

I ran a hand through my hair and smiled at him. I grabbed my bag and slowly stood up. I knew where I had to go now, and I was excited. As I opened the classroom door I threw one last glance back to Mr. Collins.

"Sir, thank you."

"What for?"

"Everything"