The archive of the forgotten

Damned to live, loved to give, die to forgive; Orin.

I don't understand. You never learn how to deal with death. You would think the second time around it would be easier but I cannot pick up my soul off the ground, there's so much weight pushing me down.
It has only been two week since I found him. When I saw him I didn't understand, his red cravat hid the blood till I touched him. Mu hand was covered in fluid and my heart was in denial. My mind had broken open my skull to let common sense leave as I suddenly believed in the miracle of resurrection. In no time his white shirt was painted in fear and death as I tried to get his heart to start.
I could hardly talk when I called 999, he was still warm and the tears in his eyes rejuvenated them but the reality was something I refused to believe. My broken heart was shattered enough, I couldn't lose another piece.
What if I hadn't listened and simply stood up for him? What if I hadn't listened and stayed? Would he still be alive? Would he have survived?
Why must I live in the universe when I lose him?

It's been an incredibly trying and stressful time, regarding the funeral and his will. One of the first things I found was a letter that he does not want his unfinished books published. But my mother overruled that as I had expected, my mother has already started the process of six books they'll publish. Or at least those six are the ones I know of.

If I could be honest I would say that I've been avoiding life, I don't want to see my mum, I do not want to answer to the endless journalists. I do not want to answer to my own guilt, I should've said, I should've know, I should've recognised the pain. I cannot lie Evyn, I do not understand. I know life was torturing you but the little glimpses of happiness with me... Was I not enough?

I step out of bed and look around my room. It's unnaturally messy, I've been reading his books and scientific papers and because of that my room is full of them. It's the only thing I've been doing. His books... his research, again and again and again. To have the feeling he is still with me, when I read his books my mind produces his tone of voice. His hand appears on my shoulder and everything seems to be alright for a small moment.
I yawn and walk to the mirror, I pick up some of my favourite pictures f him, on one he is playing with a young Sheratan, the other one is in black and white, he is smiling and not looking at the camera with his hand on my cheek while I look uncomfortable. I hate pictures of myself but he said that if we would never make pictures together we would be lying to the camera. That will always stay my favourite picture of myself.
However my favourite picture of him is framed I my room, it was a project for school, I need to discover the bounds of gender through art. He is wearing almost all our mothers pearls and her wedding dress, although we couldn't close it. There are two pictures: one where he is in the house sitting on a red chair with a glass of red wine in his hands and manspreading and black aggressive combat boot and you can hardly see his face because of the shadows. And my favourite is where he is lying in between flowers, staring at the camera and his face is slightly overexposed making it seem almost heavenly or like he is some kind of elf. But he died, so maybe that is wishful thinking or he looks like that now in heaven. But I know that's not true because God does not exist. Because a good God would never abandon my brother like that. God would not abandon me like that.

I slick back my half white hair I've decided to let it grow to honour Evyn. I put on my black suit and grab my black cravat. I take a deep breath and try to tie it but I get lost in the stars and memories again and again.
"Fuck off!" I scream you my own thoughts as I throw the cravat on the floor. I groan in frustration and fall to my knee and wheeze, trying not to cry. I punch the floor and lie down on my side in pain as I look at the ceiling and try to ignore the knot in my stomach.
"I don't understand it Evyn. Am I cruel for not understanding? When did you know you'd kill yourself? Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me? Were you afraid I'd prevent you from doing it? I understand why you wanted to die. Emotionally I hate you for leaving me. You must've known that. You hated your parents for leaving too." I say to one of the pictures.
"Will you forgive me for being mad?" The pictures smiles and stares into my soul.
"Thank you." I whisper while closing my eyes. My head plays his voice, breathe in, breathe out. You'll be fine Orin, I am here for you. He would say, but he is no longer here for me. The gaping hole is bigger than the one Antigone left and I can't explain it. I don't understand why I must survive this. Why must I like life?