Memories- Second draft

"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 with a warm smile then gave me an affectionate hug. I breathed him 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 as he walked out.

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 stayed solid. I knew I had to be here, I needed to be here to confront what happened, to let go of all the weight. I took a deep breath, looking down. As I looked down at the hard wood of the desk, I noticed two initials on it.

CG; Callum Grant.

I was weeping before I knew it, the tears where running thick and fast as the memories flooded 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 at 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 clutched his chest and spasmed.

My twin was gone. My twin, my twin, my twin. The sentence repeated over and over again in my head like an annoying pop song.

Why couldn't it have been me? Cal was the sensitive one, Cal was the nice one, Cal was the pure one that never let anything get him down. What did I have to offer? Cal could have been anything. Cal could have gone to Havard, he would have been a success. What was I going to be? Probably some depressed taxi driver whittling my hours away with skinheads at a dingy pub. I'd be better off dead.

And I was back to the dark tunnels in my head, the tunnels that bring memories, so many memories. They tortured me, teasing me by saying that I could have saved him. I was crying, 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. "I don't know, sir." I murmured, my voice hoarse and soft.

"Alex, look up." Mr. Collins said. I looked up, hesitantly. "I-I'm sorry for that." Mr Collins shook 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 said, 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.

Inside 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. 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. Mr. Collins gave me a glance and then wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "I know what you came back here for, Alex. I knew you'd come back Alex. I knew I had to give that to you." I nodded meekly and gave him a tearful lopsided smile.

One thing was for certain. No matter how much I missed Callum, no matter how depressed I was, I always knew that Callum would have wanted something better for me. He would have wanted me to be happy, grateful. No, I didn't get a warm bubbly feeling that spread through my veins like liquid gold, no I didn't suddenly see the whole world clearly.

But yes, from that moment on I was just that little bit stronger every time I was reminded of my dead twin brother.