Dead and Crinkled Flowers [ON HOLD]

Chapter Seven: April 2015: Brooke's Brother

"Dad, I'm worried about her "

Brooke's father and brother had been sitting in silence and eating their dinner when her brother pushed his plate away and said this.

"So am I, son."

"But what are we going to do about it?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "We've got to do something."

His father looked him in the eyes. "We already have."

His son turned around and walked to the fireplace. He rested his hands on its mantle. "What exactly have we done, Dad?" he asked, looking into the mirror. He didn't like what he saw: a failure to fix his sister.

"We've been here for her. We've hugged and kissed her and loved her. There isn't much we can do, but we're doing it."

The son slammed his hands into the mantle. Part of it crumbled into a gravel substance. He turned to face his father. "But that's  not enough. It's not enough for her. She's hurting, Dad."

"Just as she should. Someone she loved dearly has died, of course she's upset."

"But she shouldn't be upset for this long."

"He died a week ago, and his funeral was held Monday. You've got to give her some time to heal. It's a long process."

"I got over Mom pretty quick."

"You were a child when she died," his father explained. "You were innocent and young. You still are young, you know, but you now understand that death is death. That they're gone. You didn't understand that as a child."

"I know but-"

"She's older now. She's not four years old anymore. She understands death just as you do now. She's not innocent like she once was."

The son put his face in his hands. "I just want her happy again."

His father stood up and took his son in his arms. He rubbed his back as he cried.

The father shed only one tear for his family that day. If he shed anymore, he would of broken down.

After his son calmed down, he looked up at his father and said what he'd been thinking a his entire time.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think she'll ever come down?"

"I hope so, son. I hope so."