Iris

29 | sunsets

— I R I S'   P O V —

     FEAR WAS NO different from an unwanted guest. It was a plague I'd learned to coexist with years ago: a bitter one that clung to me, finding its comfort within the shattered crumbles of my heart. At times, it seemed as if fear and I shared the same heartbeat—as if we shared the same breaths and senses, for I had feared a lot of things throughout my childhood.

I'd feared the monsters and the pain. I'd feared death and loss. I'd feared my fosters and their friends. I'd even feared myself at times. In the past years of my short life, I'd crossed paths with a myriad of the shapes and forms that fear often came in. I'd sat next to it for days and sobbed, and I'd attempted to turn my existence into a mere fairytale for others, wanting to be invisible and hide in the shadows from the dangers lingering in the world.

All of that, however, was nothing in comparison to the gut-wrenching fear that had clutched onto my heart and shoved its sharp edges into my lungs once I'd seen the crimson tainting Nolan's hand and watched him lose consciousness. All the pain I'd experienced in my life seemed insignificant in contrast with the mere thought of losing one of my brothers.

I'd often read books where the traces and imprints of grief had been stitched onto the pages and between the lines. I'd heard the haunted screams and echoing pleas in the words I had read, almost witnessing the lives as they shattered and crumbled with my naked eyes. And I'd learned one thing and one thing only: my burdened heart would never succeed in handling grief. The pain of losing someone so close to me would overwhelm me to a point where I'd no longer recognize the remnants of myself—to a point where I'd be a threatening stranger to my own soul.

Had we lost Nolan yesterday, my whole world would have caved in on me, trapping my scarred body underneath its rubble and debris, suffocating me. I would have lost an irreplaceable piece of me, failing to find it ever again.

The fear still lingered: the fear of loss and the fear of grief. Even as I sat next to Nolan, my head buried in his chest and his arm circling my shoulders as we both watched the movie playing across his laptop's screen, I still feared. I still found my vision drifting to him every other moment as I attempted to make sure that he was still there, alive and breathing. I still found myself intently listening to the rhythmic sound of his heart to make sure that it still pumped properly, supplying his organs with the blood they needed.

When I cast a glance at Nolan the next time, he was already gazing at me, as if he'd already expected my action.

Offering him the rest of my ice cream, I grinned, swallowing the emotions that burned my throat. "Do you want more? I already ate a lot."

Nolan shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "I've had like five cups since yesterday, munchkin. I certainly do not need more."

"Your loss." My shoulders rose and fell in a shrug as I brought a spoonful of ice cream to my mouth. Then, I let my gaze land on my brother again. "Who's your favorite character?"