"I was sick of letting the world run me so I decided to run the world."
~~~
Isabelle Cane was taken from her family at 6 months old, leaving behind 7 older brothers and a twin sister. In the 12 years she's been away, Izzy has faced hardships no chi...
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In life, I have found that there is always an alternative. There is always another way, another version, another reason. Always another piece to a puzzle we didn't know we were trying to solve. In life, there is always something else that can be found. Something that will fit where something must dwell, and fill the space that seems too large. There is always another option. Always another explanation. Even when it seems impossible.
For most of my life, I have strived to believe in the alternative. To search for and accept the best in the face of the worst. Often, it has been the only light in an otherwise dark tunnel of discouragement and disappointment. The other explanation. The other way. The other piece.
I tried to come up with an alternative. In the last 20 minutes that I'd spent sitting in the car, waiting for Logan or Tyler to finally explain what was going on, I'd desperately searched for another way to explain every piece of what I don't understand. 20 minutes of waiting. 20 minutes of thinking. 20 minutes of wondering what could have possibly made Logan react that way to see Marley's grave. It was supposed to be a therapeutic moment for me. A moment of solitude where I could attempt to find peace in the only person who ever cared about me. It was meant to ease the never-ending feeling of uncertainty that had overwhelmed me since she died almost a year ago.
But it hadn't done that. If anything, it had only made the feeling all the worse. A burning sensation in my chest had formed in the last 20 minutes. Searing and impossible to ignore, no matter how many times I tried to flush it out with another deep, unsatisfying breath.
I could see them through the car window. Logan and Tyler, standing at the front hood of the car with matching frowns on their faces as they spoke to one another in quiet voices. Neither one had said much to me when we'd gotten back to the car from the grave sight. Logan had just opened the door for me with that blank, haunted look on his face, gently ushered me inside, and tried not to meet my eyes as he kissed the top of my head and whispered a hardly reassuring 'we'll be right back. Then a moment later, I'd seen Tyler reappear from wherever he'd been to join Logan, the same ghostly expression melting his features within seconds of their conversation.
I was beginning to make myself sick as I worried about all the possibilities and all their alternatives. I had yet to come up with a viable theory for my brother's intense, and confusing reaction to seeing my friend's grave. As far as I could see, it didn't make any sense. Logan didn't know Marley. He'd never met her, and I had never even mentioned her to him or anyone else since I'd moved to Harlem. I watched as Logan tugged at his brown hair outside the front windshield. He rubbed his face with his hands and said something to Tyler who hung his head sadly.
Logan glanced up at the windshield. We locked eyes and a grimace passed over his face. Then he turned back to Tyler and said something, jerking his head in my direction. Tyler sighed visibly and nodded in response to whatever Logan had said, before the both of them trudged their way over to my side of the car. Logan was the one to open the door, a sad, thin smile on his pale face.
