Growlersburg

CHHAPTER ONE :In the depression of reality.

Introduction : Bryce

Rose was never the type gal that wanted to be swooned over. But she was. Rose was a mountain gal through and through. The forest was her home and she was tougher then the loggers that drive through our town. Rose was quiet and polite. But To the naked eye,You might think she was delicate and approachable. The kind of girl you would not think twice about in high school but as a fully mature man you would pursue to be your wife. Rose had pale skin with white hair. Such white hair that most would assume that it was dyed. When she was a toddler people would tell her parents. "Awe, She is a toe head! Too bad it never lasts. Her hair is so beautiful." But it did last and her hair never got darker. She wasn't short but she wasn't tall. She was just Rose.

Before I died Rose and I were two peas in a damn pod. The yin to my yang. Now now before we get carried away Ill tell you what I told our parents from the time I was 5. Rose is my sister. Not by blood , but you get the point. She was my best friend. Actually kind of family in the not at all traditional dysfunctional way. I guess we were cousins by marriage twice removed or some nonsense like that. Our dads were also best friends from birth and later on in life our mamas. But nonetheless she was my best friend. Is my best friend.

Although I can't give her all the limelight, my actual Brother Would silently protest with his deep impending scowls of misery. Just kidding. Well kind of. Gage my brother. My older Brother. The one who talks to me in his dreams and doesn't realize he is actually talking to me.
It's frustrating communicating with him in his dreams. I mean even more frustrating than trying to talk with him when I was alive. I would call him serious Gage. You see if the roles were reversed and I was the one alive I would not stop with the dead jokes. Dark humor was my strong suite. It wasn't Gages. Well okay sometimes it was his but he wasn't as funny as me or is he more funny than me now since im dead?
Everytime Gage visits my grave at that musty old cemetery, I always see the perfect opportunity for him to say "you were just dying to get in here huh?" But to my utmost disappointment he doesn't say it. In fact he doesn't say jack diddly crap. That is why we talk in his dreams. But like I said he doesn't understand that I'm not a figure of his dark and twisted imagination. We may have been brothers and very much alike in some ways but in others we couldn't be more different. Gage and I were both tall but my sandy brown hair, green eyes and wickedly good looks were much different to his midnight Black hair , Dark brown chocolate eyes and the permanent sarcastic grin on his face that rose and I would say was permanently stuck like that. We were alike in many ways both stubborn him more so than me.

Unlike Rose, Gage knew why I was actually dead. And to my dying request gage still hasn't fulfilled what I asked of him. "Gage Please." I begged "I won't have to Bryce, because you aren't going to die."
Well I, bryce did in fact die.

Chapter 1 Rose.

His truck screeched in protest up the steep hill in town. "You know you really need to give this thing a tune up" I said to the passenger seat. "I hate driving this thing in the snow. I gotta get some new tires. Oh yeah I also forgot to tell you jeremy and quinn have been hanging around each other! Isn't that so weird." I looked back over to the empty passenger seat. "Ahhhh not feeling like a chatty cathy today huh?" I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes but they stayed unfallen. I didn't have it in me to start crying. I felt a giggle escape my mouth. "I'm losing my damn mind." It's like I could hear Bryce respond in my head. "You can't lose something you never had rosy posy ." "shut up bryce." I verbally responded to the empty passenger seat.
If I was driving and our favorite radio station was playing and I had my eyes zoned in on the road in front of me I could almost see bryce in my peripheral vision. But it never felt the same because when bryce was alive he would rather be dead then see me drive his truck. Especially right now as I grinded gears poorly and could smell the clutch burning.
"In my defense Bryce, I did ask you to help me learn stick." you just had to go and die. Was the part I left in my head.
4 months, 122 days since I had seen bryce. For the first few weeks I just pretended he was on a hunting trip with his dad and brother. But now it was October and we would have been attending our first year at the local community college. We didn't even want to go to college we wanted to go hike the PCT for 4 months and then travel the country in a van. But it was always pipe dreams. So to our dismay and begging our parents they said we could take the summer before collage off and travel but then things changed Bryce had responsibilities. Some I never fully got. "I just can't go rose. I want more than anything but I can't." "what changed ? we have been planning this half of our lives bryce." I spoke to him filled with annoyance " Things changed I cant talk about it right now rose but I promise I'll make it up." I didn't talk to him for 12 hours my plan had been a week but I couldn't go that long. I broke after 12 hours when he showed up at my house with coffee the next day. Now I have gone 122 days.
I pulled into the small grocery store in our town and parked the truck and turned it off. I sat in the truck for a few minutes listening to the sound of the rain on the metal roof. My cheek resting on the driver window feeling the coolness and the condensation drip down my cheek. I Grabbed my lunch box and went inside to start my shift. I worked in the grocery store all through highschool and after all of my plans derailed I just stayed working here. It was good for me though it kept me on a schedule and out of my wallowing. And in the thick of grief my mom convinced me to take a few classes this semester. We were a month in and it wasn't as torturous as I anticipated. Half the time the professors made the class virtual or didn't show up. The class load was easy and wasn't in any way exceptionally hard like all our high school teachers warned us.
I go to the back room, slide my time card into the machine and get to work. The time passed way too fast . I used to want it to go by fast but now I begged for it to drag on and for time to slow. By the time my shift was over it was 9pm and I offered to stay later but tom our manager who had worked here since the age of the dinosaurs said. "Ohn no missy you mom came in here and told me you have barely been home lately, go on go home and do homework or what you're supposed to do in college." "Tom, I really can stay, I don't have any homework." he gave me a questioning look "nope. Go home it's not even busy if you don't have homework go watch the game with your dad or .." he trailed off. Or go bother Bryce I thought. So that's what I did and that's what I did everyday for the last 122 days.
I drove the half mile from the store to the cemetery at snail pace pulling into the small gravel lot where you could park.No one was here. It was late at night and raining. I preferred it this way. I hated running into other people here or other people watching me be emotional. Coming here felt intimate, nothing that needed to be observed or speculated about. I sat there for a moment. The rain is still coming down in small trickles. I got out and walked through the old creepy gates. Walking over to his family plot I sat down at his headstone.
Bryce lupine Hunter January 1st, 1997-June 20th, 2016 Beloved Son,Grandson,Brother,Friend to all. "It's a good day to have a good day." Something Bryce would say every morning. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and retrieved it. "Rose. Friday Dinner Tomorrow 6pm see you then sweet pea." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Joice Bryces mother who was like a second mother to me. Bryces dad and my dad had been bestfriends since childhood then by chance they both got married and their wifes became just as close. My mom didn't grow up here in Growlersburg but she met my dad on a camping trip. The details are a need to know basis. They were 22 and 19 so your interpretation of their meeting is probably correct.
I had been avoiding Friday night dinners. The last 2 times I was at their house had been after the funeral when there was a reception at their house and I just went into Bryce's room and slept in his bed for 2 days refusing to leave. The last time since then was when James, Bryce's dad, asked me to come pick up the truck. I was confused at the time because I thought gage Bryce's older brother would have wanted the truck. He built the truck with bryce. Well gage mostly built the truck and bryce mostly annoyed him. But it was their project. When I asked James why Gage didn't want it he gave me a pained look and said "he told me to give it to you. He wants to see it be used." It didn't feel like the whole truth but I didn't push. I was more than happy to have the truck. It's where I felt Bryce the most. Not here at this grave where grass hasn't even grown and never will because the cemetery is over a hundred years old un kept and ridden with oak trees with protruding roots and rocks everywhere.
I texted Joice back. "See you then." I could feel her victory through the phone. I knew I couldn't avoid this any longer. I walked slowly back to the truck and sat there for another few moments before pulling away and driving down the dark highway through town on my way home.
I can't ever escape Bryce, everywhere I go there is a memory following me around. Its sort of an out of body experience.Its almost like I can see the two of us and replay the memories but not through my own eyes. I can drive past the small bar and hotel in town and see the two of us sneaking in on karaoke night . I can see 8 year old us playing at the park. I can see us sitting in the truck blasting music together avoiding going into class. I can see bryce's hand in mine as I cried over my first heartbreak. I can see me yelling at Bryce later that day because I found out the boy I had been dating broke up with me because Bryce gave him the "talk". I can see him in his casket as I kiss his cold cheek. I can see him being lowered into the ground. I can see it all the good, the bad and the ugly. The small daily memories that I don't think I would have ever thought of again if it wasn't for the trauma and the obsession to have Bryce be alive in my mind.
I pulled into my driveway not even remembering the drive home. I climbed out of the truck and walked back out into the rain and into my house. Taking my jacket off slowly I verbally sighed. My dad peeked his head out from the kitchen. "Hey kiddo." he eyes me curiously "I was starting to get worried about you, We know you are a collage girl now and living.. What do the kids call it? hypster life but text next time send a text."