Drown

His name is Nelson

After gathering my thoughts, I made my way to my Auntie's house. I knocked impatiently on the door, desperate to talk to her about something that had been weighing heavily on my mind. Finally, she opened the door and fixed her gaze on me, from top to bottom, as if trying to read my soul.

"Mmmm, you're all grown up now. Guess you're not here to visit. Come in," she said, gesturing for me to enter. As I followed her inside, we settled in the dining room. The air was thick with tension, and a sense of unease hung in the room like a heavy cloud.

Feeling her piercing stare, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. It was clear that my Auntie had something important to tell me, something that had been kept hidden for far too long. Finally, she broke the silence, cutting straight to the chase.

"Alright, I'm going to cut to the chase, child. You want to know about your twin brother, the one you never knew," she said, her tone blunt and matter-of-fact. Before I could even gather my thoughts to respond, she continued, pouring herself a glass of whiskey.

"His name was Nelson, by the way. We have a lot to talk about. Let me pour some whiskey," she said, seemingly not bothered by my lack of interest in alcohol. The tension in the room intensified, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment in her reactions.

"I don't drink," I calmly replied, trying to assert my personal boundaries.

"Well, it's not for you. It's for me. I have a lot to get off my chest," she responded, pouring herself another glass. Her dismissive demeanour only sharpened my curiosity.

"The perfect child, headache, you make me laugh, but I don't find you funny. Listen closely, child. I don't want to repeat myself," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. I leaned back in my chair, bracing myself for what she was about to reveal.

Taking a deep breath, she started to recount her story, the story of my twin brother. "So, firstly, yes, you did have a twin brother. He was the younger one among you both, and despite your similar appearances, your mother saw both of you differently. She treated you like the perfect child, while she viewed your brother as nothing more than a waste of space. You always received preferential treatment, as if you were the golden egg," she explained, taking another sip of her whiskey.

"But let me tell you something. Your mother never believed your brother had the potential to surpass you, until he proved her wrong. You may have been the sporty one, skilled with your hands, but your brother had a different kind of brilliance. His mind was exceptional, with a photographic memory. He once learned how to play the piano from a book in under a week," she said, her voice filled with a mix of pride and regret for what could have been.

She took one last gulp of her whiskey, her voice growing more solemn. "But when your mother discovered this, she was devastated. She saw your younger brother as a threat to you, just as she saw me as a threat to her," she explained, her tone heavy with the weight of the past.

My mind was racing, trying to process this newfound knowledge. So many questions flooded my thoughts, threatening to overwhelm me. "But why don't I remember him?" I asked, desperately seeking answers.

My Auntie locked eyes with me, her gaze unwavering. "Your dear mother did everything she could to hide this secret from you and the world. She kept Nelson hidden away in the house, away from your sight. You and your brother were never close, rarely seen together. So when he died, it was easy for your mother to erase him from your memory, convincing you that he was nothing more than an imaginary friend," she revealed, her words hitting me like a tidal wave of emotion.

I was taken aback by the magnitude of it all. I felt a lump forming in my throat, suffocating me with regret. The weight of guilt pressed down on me, as I blamed myself for unknowingly playing a part in my own brother's demise, while forgetting his very existence.

But before I could collect myself and regain some semblance of composure, my Auntie approached me from behind. "Here, you look like you need this," she said, handing me a glass of whiskey. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to give in to the bitter drink. Yet, I knew that there was more my Auntie had to share, so I took a gulp, allowing the whiskey to burn my throat, releasing some of the overwhelming emotions that flooded my mind.

As I stared into my Auntie's eyes, I sensed that she hadn't finished telling me everything she knew. I mustered up the courage to ask, "How do you even know all of this? You were never allowed near my family."

She sighed, a mix of pain and longing evident on her face. "Your father, he visited me often, especially on the days he couldn't bear to be around that woman. And every time we met, an old spark ignited between us, a remnant of the love we once shared," she confessed, her voice filled with a bittersweet nostalgia.

"An old spark? What do you mean?" I asked, confused by her implications.

She sighed once more, a hint of sadness lacing her voice. "Your father and I were lovers in our younger days, until your mother stole him away from me out of jealousy. And when we slept together, it wasn't just out of lust; it was fuelled by an old love that still lingered between us. But I suppose your brother didn't understand that when he caught us in the act," she admitted, a mix of guilt and remorse colouring her words.

Understanding dawned upon me, and I quickly interjected, connecting the dots. "But, as I guess, mom found out about your affair," I said, realizing that my mother's jealousy and the photographic memory of my brother would have been a lethal combination.

My Auntie nodded solemnly. "Your mother always had eyes and ears everywhere, even in our small town. It was probably the neighbours who informed her. Her jealousy was insatiable," she replied with a heavy sigh.

I took a moment to absorb everything I had learned, piecing together the puzzle that was my family's history. My mother may not have had concrete proof of my father's betrayal, but if my brother witnessed their indiscretions with his extraordinary memory, it would have been all the confirmation she needed. A mixture of anger and sadness welled up inside me, fuelled by the realization that my mother had gone to such lengths to hide the truth from me.

With a determined gaze, I asked my Auntie if there was anything else she wanted to reveal. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she pleaded with me. "Your brother only wanted to be loved, to break free from your shadow. Will you do him justice and expose his existence to the world? Expose your mother's secrets, her true nature? Free this town from the burden of keeping her deceit hidden?" she implored me, her voice trembling with desperation.

Meeting her gaze, I made a silent promise to my Auntie and to Nelson. "I will do exactly that, but I need my father's help," I declared, knowing that I couldn't face this daunting task alone. She provided me with the information of where I could find my father, explaining that he often visited her.

Leaving her house with a newfound sense of purpose, I embarked on a mission to uncover the truth and seek justice for Nelson. Determined to expose my mother's secrets and set the town free from the shackles of her deceit, I walked boldly, fuelled by memories of a brother I had long forgotten.

With each step forward, my resolve grew stronger. This wasn't just about my own redemption; it was about honouring the memory of a brother lost and forgotten, giving him the recognition and love he had always desired. Together with my father, if he agreed to join me in this pursuit, we would unearth the buried truths and ensure that Nelson's existence would no longer be denied.