“Gwen.”I reached out to touch her as she ran by me. I missed her entirely but got ahalf-hearted swipe at her backpack.
Istood at the doorway and listened.
“What’sgoing on?” my sister said.
Mymom was sobbing, clutching my dad as if he too would disappear without notice.Two police officers stood guard at the bottom of the stairs. Their faces lackedemotion but I could see the discomfort in the younger officer’s eyes.
Dadpatted my mom’s arm and she let go of him unwillingly. He stumbled forward,still trying to remain the stoic.
“Yourbrother…he’s gone.”
Thehowl that emerged from my sister crushed me. Her backpack dropped to the flooras she leaned on the nearby recliner. My dad went to her and put his hand onher shoulder, an awkward gesture of support. She hugged him, sobbing andmumbling something into his chest.
“Whatdid you say?”
Shepulled away and looked up at him. Mascara and eyeliner stained her cheeks andmy dad’s t-shirt.
“Whathappened?” She spoke so quietly I could barely hear her.
Hepulled her towards the couch so they could talk. In that moment, my mom let outanother wail as she tried to get past the cops standing guard.
“Iwant to see my son! Let me see him!”
“Ma’am,you’re not allowed upstairs.” The older cop was gentle but firm with both hiswords and his grip on my mom.
Gwenpushed my dad towards my mom before sitting down. She stared off into space,her jaw slack. Tears, mascara, and snot ran down her face. She didn’t seem tonotice or care.
Dadbrought my mom to the couch and urged her to sit with Gwen. Mom rocked back andforth, unable to stop crying. My sister took her hand and held tight, stillwith that shell-shocked look on her own face.
Beforetoo long, a detective showed up. He talked briefly with my folks before goingup to my room to investigate. Gwen managed to pull herself together enough toask the officers if they wanted anything to drink. They both declined. Behindher, I heard my parents giving each other a rare declaration of love.
Ithurt so much to stay here and watch, but I was unable to leave. I was tetheredto this house, to these beings I had fought, lived, laughed and cried with. Iturned away from the scene inside and looked around the immediate neighborhood.Not everyone was home. I saw old Mrs. Wilkins across the street staring at ourhouse through her bay window. She was the neighborhood grump, the one who keptthe baseballs that were accidentally hit into her yard. She also had themeanest ankle-biting dogs I ever met.
Iglared back at her, knowing she couldn’t see me. After a moment, her face wentpale and she ran away from her window, leaving the curtains wide open.
Didshe see me?
Rattled,I stepped further into the yard and looked around. A few houses down, theZimmerman twins were sitting on their front porch smoking with their friends.Cars carrying faces both familiar and strange drove by, all of them victims oftunnel vision. A girl wearing headphones walked by, dragged along by her Germanshepherd. She didn’t give the emergency vehicles a second glance.
Aroundus, life continued on.
Inside,the detective questioned my family. Did I have any health issues? Were theyaware of the bong in my closet? Did they know about the nippers hidden at thebottom of my trash can? How well did they know my friends? The inquisitionseemed to be never ending.
Thedetective thanked my family for their cooperation and was gone shortlythereafter. The officers asked my dad to bring Mom into another room as theywere going to be taking my body away. She hadn’t been doing much more thancrying and repeating to herself the events of the day. When she overheard thisshe stood up, insisting she see her son one last time. It took my dad, sister,and one of the officers to hold her back and keep her in the kitchen. When theywheeled me by, I turned away.
Afterthe police left, Gwen came outside to make the phone calls that no one everwanted to make. I watched her while she spoke with several different cousinsand texted someone—probably her friend, Julie. My suspicions were proven right:Julie’s beat up Civic came roaring around the corner as Gwen finished her callwith our cousin Linda. My sister had been showing an impressive amount of poiseand restraint while on the phone, but she started bawling before Julie got outof the car.
Sheran over and reached for my sister, but it was too late and Gwen collapsed onthe sidewalk. Julie sat beside her and they embraced. After a couple of minutesGwen pulled away and rested her head on her friend’s lap. Julie stroked herhair and whispered words I couldn’t hear. In time, my sister’s loud sobsreduced to tiny whimpers. By the time they stood up to go in the house, duskhad shrouded the neighborhood. In happier times they were a pair tobehold—Julie the tiny spitfire alongside my tall awkward sister, full oflaughter and many inside jokes that went back to their kindergarten days. How Ibadly wanted to grab them for a group hug as they walked by me.
Ifollowed them into the house. My parents sat inches apart from each other onthe couch; the only contact between them was Dad’s hand covering my mom’s. Momdidn’t appear to be with it; her hazel eyes lacked any sign of clarity. Shegreeted Julie as if she were a stranger. My dad wasn’t much better.
Thefour of them sat without speaking for a long time. Their silence, punctuated bythe occasional outburst of sorrow, wove a detailed tapestry of love and hurtthat hung heavy over the room and our souls. Perhaps it was because I was nolonger connected with my physical being, but the weight became too much to bearand I had to leave.
Iwent up to my room. Even in darkness I could see everything as if the overheadlight was on. My cell phone rested on the desk next to my laptop—no doubt bothhad been broken into with the expectation of finding… I’m not sure what theywould have been looking for. I didn’t use email for much, and my social mediaposts were limited to rants about video games or comic
