THE DREAM CATCHER

4. M̶E̶M̶O̶R̶Y̶

I used to have a brother. His name was Noah. He was 3 years older than me and he was my absolute whole world. I loved nothing and no one as much as I loved him. He taught me everything about life. He taught me how to be a great, genuine person but I didn't always listen. He raised me when my father was drunk or asleep and when mother wasn't home. He would pick me up from school, hug me when I cried and make me laugh. I loved him so so much. But when I was 13 he applied for an army. And I haven't seen him again. As I was told, a year later him and his division of interns were taken into the unregulated territories outside the city. Some wild people set down a bomb and he died in explosion. There was nothing left from his shattered body. They couldn't even lay his 17 years old corpse in the coffin, it's empty. I remember how I cried on his funeral. The cemeteries are located between the rays at empty spaces so the nothingness and darkness around made the mood even worse. I remember I threw myself on my knees and started screaming and hitting his grave with my fists when they closed the marble plate. I remember it now. It was all gone for a while but now it's back again in my brain, very clear. Suddenly my heart fills with the same emotions as I felt before. Grief, loss, unconditional love for my brother. My head is filled with images from our past, how we played football outside on the fields. How he helped me with my homework. How he was screaming unstoppably on my mother and how he would cover my unconscious from alcohol father with a blanket. He was such a good person. So good that this world didn't deserve him. I remember he always wanted to teach me that the sun city system is bad and people should learn to live with each other, not separate. I was too young to understand. And I know it was the subject he totally disagreed with my mother and was fighting with her about it. I remember my mom being the biggest supporter for the race division idea. Noah wasn't. He would often not come back home at night and come back in the morning covered in blood and bruises. Now I knew that it must had had something to do with his rebellious tendencies. Every single moment of my life which I spent with Noah was projected in front of my eyes and I wanted to claw them out from shame. How could I dare to forget about him? How could I dare to stop mourning after his tragic death? How could I just erase his face from my brain and not think about him for so many years? Someone or something who unblocked this part of my brain is going to be responsible for my downfall. Because what if I'll learn something even more horrible about me?

Loss.