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Stars

The first thing I see as I enter my house is Orion trotting merrily from his spot on the window sill, his tail curling at my arrival. I don't greet the cat, simply dropping my bags by the door and rushing upstairs. Elio's door is shut and for one horrific moment, my head begins to spin. I imagine everything I could possibly see in his bedroom and it makes me sick.

"Elio," I say, and twist his door knob open, but something is on the other side, blocking my entrance. "Let me in."

Silence.

"El, I'm serious. I will break down this door. Let me in."

"I don't believe you," he says, his voice a bit empty, but I'm relieved because he's still able to speak. He's still breathing.

"Right now, Elliot." I'm shoving with all my might now but it barely budges under my body weight.

"Don't come in," Elio says. His voice is still a frail murmur, but there's something frantic about it that scares me. My brother is always calm and hearing anything else worries me even more. "Please. Don't come in." Pressing with all my might, the door starts to slowly part so I can see just a sliver of his bedroom. "No! Go away!"

I am heaving even harder now and it takes several seconds for me to create a gap large enough to fit through, and part of me wishes I never had. Elio is curled up on the floor, his head buried in his arms. The entire room is a bit dark, as if someone had coated only this area of the sky in black paint. I notice the bloodstained tissues surrounding him, the blades I had thought he got rid of. Elio is still hiding his face from me, as if that might make me forget he was here. I feel incredibly sick.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice quiet and raw from crying. Finally, my little brother looks up at me and I can see the same expression I had when I walked into his bedroom in October. His eyes are purple and red and tear stained, his nose is a bit swollen. "I'm so, so sorry."

He. Isn't. Better.

I say something, but I don't even realize it's me speaking. It's almost like words just spawned into the air above us. I begin to shake my head. A lot. Left, right, left, right: Hoping the movement may cause the scene to disappear like an etch-a-sketch. It doesn't. It's still here.

"I'm sorry," he keeps repeating, and the words begin to melt along the walls. They're sticky, red smudges, coating every surface until it's all I can see. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

"Why didn't you call mom," I say, my eyes darting wildly about the room. "You were supposed to call her if you felt this way. You could've... could've-" I can't even say it. My voice dulls to a whisper as Elio hides his face again. "This is all my fault. I was supposed to be here."

For a moment, I forget what to do, but I suddenly spring into action, rushing downstairs for bandages and anti septic spray and whatever else I can think of. And, back into his room I go, collapsing on the floor beside him. Elio cries a lot as I bandage him up and it takes everything in me not to throw up. I have to keep reminding myself that this time, he doesn't need the hospital. As horrible as it is, it is better than before.

"What happened," I ask. It's not the right thing to say, I know, but I don't know what else to do.

"I don't... I was just tired and sorting through bins and the house felt so quiet and... I don't know."

There is no reason. Maybe, there is no reason for anything. Tonight, Elio had another episode while I just so happened to be away. But, I was supposed to be the person there when something like this occurs. I was supposed to be on the other side of the hall. I was supposed to be awake and able to see that he is texting me and wondering where I am and wanting me home. I was supposed to be able to tell when he is on the verge of spiraling.