LightHouse

Chapter 0

I don't remember my brother. If you asked me, I wouldn't be able to tell you. I don't have an image of his face within my memory. I can remember his body. Big and wide. Strong. The way his chest viberates when he hums the melody to help me calm down or fall asleep. A melody that inplants me. Taken root in my mind. What is he humming to? If I hum it out for you, I don't you can tell me. It was one of the mysteries I could never solve. I was also too reluctant to ask my father. He never talks about him. His photos are taken down from our family home. Only Julie has his picture. Framed in her guest room. The room which used to belong to him when they both started to live together. I come by her home onve in a while. But too afraid to take a look. When I was brave, I would stand in front of the door. Soon after, a shock of fear will jolt me to stay away. 'Not yet.' I would convince myself. Perhaps never.
I remember voices around the beach. A strong man lifts me up in the air. So I can catch the winds that slip through my small fingers. Julie's laugh catches me attention. She picks up a small melon for me. So I can take it. She smiles. She looks so young then. My father calls for both her and my brother back to the table. He looked happy. I've never seen him happy. Nor smile. This was the only memory I have of that. He was a silent and stern man. No nonsense kinda guy. But here. In this moment. He was warm and free.
I was slowly lifted down. I cling to the man's shoulders. I didn't want to be put down or let him let me go. I was safe in his arms. He smiled and decided to hold me. Instantly gave in. Carring me. He said something. I could hear it, but it was muffled by the memories and the wild waves behind us. 'What did he say?' Julie rubbed my small back. Like a mother would to her child.
The memory lifted me wake in my room. Screams and shouts ecoho tbrough the hallway. 'What's happening?' As small as I was, I was more curious like any child of my age. I was perhaps 3 or 4. Too young to form full memories. But these memories I can remember.
I slowly crawled out of my crib like I always do when I'm scared. I tried many times before. It was easier when I got bigger. I've also found ways to maneuver out the crib.
I managed to get to the floor and walked to the door. Another obstacle. As always, I took the stool next to the door so I could reach the knob. I peeked. No one in the hallway. A light was shined down to my right. I followed and listened.
"HE'S DEAD!" A woman shouts. Repeating the words again and again. Curiosity took over and slowly looked out of the hallway. She's on the floor. Crying her eyes out. Weaping at her lost. I saw others I did not know. Comforting her. My fathers head. Planting in another man's arms. Hiding his face from others. Hiding his shame.
A woman noticed me and came to me. She casually lifted me and took me to the kitchen. Asked me what I would like to drink. She did this purposely. So I would be away from such sadness. I didn't say much. I only pointed out what I wanted. That was how I communicated with the giants. Words haven't form yet. Too young to try. The woman speaks to me.
"You be a brave boy now. Soon, you'll understand what it means."
She was vague. But what can she say to a small child who doesn't understand. Julie's words made a sharp memory edged in a form of whispers. 'He's dead.' Whose dead?
The woman walked back to the group of people. They were watching the box with pictures. TV is what it was called. Pictures of flames and buildings in chaos. People running with bloodshot fear in their eyes. I did not like this. The people around the room were watching in silence. Sounds of weaping and whispers. Not disturbing the viewers.
I did not like this at all. I wiggled out of the woman's arms. I did not want to be here. She lets me go, and I wonder through the house. When I'm scared, I go to his room. It was empty. Dark and cold. He wasn't their. My father stood behind me. I clenched my small hands to his pants. Looked at him with confusion. His eyes were red and sunken in. He patted my head and slowly closed the door. His room.
My father kneeled down to me. To his huge hands to mine.
"My boy." He said softly. "He's not their. He won't be coming back. He is with your mother now. Your brother..." he held back his words. I can see his eyes watered. "Your brother is gone."
I understood shortly after that. I did not understand the concept of death. Something that can not be living anymore. They can laugh anymore. They can't hold you warmly anymore. They can't sing to you when you are sad. I didn't know if I would miss it. The warm days. The days he would be in. The days without him.
My brother is dead.