Burned Pieces

Memory Box

It was early in the morning as she drove home; her parents would be out, so she didn't have to worry about them. In the car, she was trying to figure out whether she should stay or pick up a few of her belongings and stay somewhere else. Only to prove a point. When she drove into the driveway, it was empty of her parents cars, which calmed her down a little. She carefully opened the door and sneaked into her room. It felt good to be back home, and she had missed her bed, even if it had only been for one night.

The cold water ran down her body; she felt awake, even alive from the shock it gave her. When she got out, she put on a shirt and searched through her closet to find something good to wear. As she pulled out the hanger, another one felt down. She bent down to pick it up. When she looked up, she saw a dusty box lying in the bottom of the closet, and with a light smile on her face, she pulled it out onto the floor and brushed it off. It was a memory box filled with pictures of her as a child. She opened the lid and immediately saw all of her awkward but still somewhat adorable child photos; most of them were only of her, while others were with her brother. He wasn't much older than her; they stood with their arms wrapped around each other, smiling big into the camera. Then there was another one where they both sat leaning over the table with a birthday cake on it. It looked as if both of them were preparing themselves to blow out the candles, although it was only one of their birthdays. It was probably his; she had always been more of a troubled child. Her smile diapered, and if they back then had gotten the question of which of them would be most likely to get into trouble, they would probably bet on her. And here they were, and she wasn't the one. He had always been the caring, kind, and helpful one of them both. For the first time in a long time, she remembered who he actually was. She put all the pictures into the box and put it back, and with no time to lose, she got changed. Finally, she understood that he wasn't the one who needed to understand; it was her.

*

The door was partly opened, so she knocked softly before entering. It was unusual to see him at home at this time of day, but he had probably been grounded after she had left. He sat on the rim of his bed with his head bowed. Now she knew that the solution wasn't to scream at him but to listen. He looked up with tears in his eyes. She got closer and sat down on the bed next to him.

- "Do you remember when we were playing a game with some other kids in the park and I got upset with one of them because he didn't seem to understand the rules? I almost started a fight. He was so scared that I would hit him like I had done before. But then you stepped in and came up with new rules so that we could all play again. You saved the game. No fight, no nothing. You cared so much about everyone, and therefore everyone adored you in comparison to me."

She could feel him smiling.

- "That kid I almost beat up looked up to you so much; all of them basically wanted to become you", she paused again. "What happened to you?"

His hands began trembling as he tried to remain calm.

- "You don't get it", he said, almost sobbing.

- "Then explain in", she turned towards him, looking at the side of his face.

- "It's just everything. I can't take it anymore. School, coach, our parents, the team, you"

The last one shocked her. What had she ever done to pressure him?

- "I am your sister, okay? Your one and only, and therefore your favorite, and I would never try to put pressure on you", she said. "Why didn't you say anything before? We could have come up with something—a real solution."

He shrugged his shoulders, and again the atmosphere shifted.

- "We used to tell each other everything. Why did we stop?", she was almost whispering.

- "We grew older", he finally said.

She smiled with a painful expression, looking down on her fumbling hands.

- "Yes, we did."

Their last good memories of each other were from years ago, and the last time they had a deep conversation was even longer ago. She turned her gaze up at him again.

- "Vin, you need help".

When the words left her mouth, she felt the tears coming. It wasn't only he who needed to admit it; all of them did. He wasn't going to get better without help. He was still struggling, and she wasn't going to look past that anymore.

- "I know", he said so quietly that she could barely hear it. But she did, and it was time that she also listened.