The Adventures Of John B : The Sacred Stone

Chapter 42 - A Deformed Justice, A Mistaken Truth.

VIVIAN :

What is family to you?

To me, it was disfunction.  Fighting, anger, disappointment- having the only people I've ever loved experiencing everything cruel in and about life itself.  Because of me.  That constant scrutinization directed at myself was haunting, a lingering sadness. 

And I deserved it.

When I was sixteen, my brother opened the door with the intention of walking into the ocean.  He didn't intend on walking out.  Ascending in spirit and consciousness, he surrendered his life to a descent down below.

They found his body.  

I swore, for once, he had a smile.

He didn't say goodbye to me, to anyone- didn't rethink the choice or the life he had.  Left it all behind.

Was he more free there than with us?

I'll never really know.

But I'll always wonder.

They tell you it isn't your fault, but they know nothing.

Because that night I was awake.  Lying silently in my bed, eyes open- staring at a blank ceiling with a blank, useless mind.  The door shut and I knew it.  I lost my chance, he had already locked himself away.   

Let me redo the past, I'll do all the steps right.  

No.  

No, I wouldn't.

I can't go back to the past.

The door will always shut.

  I just didn't know that it would never open again, not in the same way- not by the only person that I wanted it to.

If only I had a time machine to fix every little mistake.  Only then would the world be sweet.  But it's not so.

The world has always been bitter.  To everyone.  Only now I realize that.  I had some hope in it, put some trust in its fortunes.  I took a risk, took a bite- but the taste wasn't what I expected it to be.  There's no one to blame for that misconception but me.

I ruined my family, and that's the simple truth.  Because I should've known.  Should've seen the tired eyes, the depressed mood, the drawled words.  The cries for help so blatantly expressed in every action.

My parents divorced after that.  They still loved each other.  But the weight of it all made it much harder to communicate that.  

My younger sister and I went with my father.  

He worked, we played.  

He worked, we grew up.

He worked, we left.

We worked, he died.

He gave everything he had for us.  I don't know if he regrets it or not.  I just know that I regret taking that from him.

Mom got a whole new family with a whole new, perfect son.  She got the substitute she always wanted.

Sent gifts when she felt it was appropriate.

I don't blame her.  

I just wish that we hadn't been torn apart so easily.  That they acted as if his departure was our demise.  

He did nothing but love.  The only thing he couldn't do anymore was live.

The family, hanging from a thin string, snapped apart.