Baby {JJ Maybank}

19.

It had been a few days, I think, when JJ drug me out of my room to come sit outside. They had decided to make memorial for John B. They had cut a heart into the oak tree outside of the chateau and branded "2003 2020 John B Routledge P4L" into the heart. I sat on the hammock beside them not uttering a word. I watched as they rose a toast and buried a box of Sarah and John B's things.

I'm back how I was with dad. I don't talk. I don't do anything. What's the point. It was bad when dad died, but with John B it feels like a part of me died with him. Aside from JJ, he was my rock. What is a person supposed to do when their twin brother dies. Just move on? Say "oh, you'll be missed." And just forget about it? I think I was doing everything but forget.

☆

"We, uh... we lost them." Shoupe answers

"What do you mean 'you lost them.'" I ask

"I'm sorry." Shoupe says looking directly at me. I shake my head. No, they lost them because they got away, right?

"You lost them?" Pope asks "What do you mean you lost them? Like, they got away? What are you talking about?"

"They took an open boat into a tropical depression, Pope." Shoupe says refusing to look at me now.

"They're dead?" Kie questions, but nobody really wants the answer.

No. They aren't dead. This isn't happening.

This can't be real

"Josie."

I can't lose him.

"Josie!"

He's alive.

"Josephine!"

I shot up from my, now recurring, dream. Tears were dripping down my face and sweat was soaking my brow. My hands instinctively shot to my throat but were pulled away instantly. I whipped my head to see who it was. JJ. It was real. They're dead. They went out during a tropical depression and capsized.

"It's okay, baby" JJ said wiping the tears off my cheeks and pushed my hair out of my face.

Another sob choked out of my mouth and he pulled me to lay back down with him. His hands were stringing through my hair trying to soothe me. This was nightly. Ever since it happened, this is how I wake up at least once a night. Most times I can go back to sleep and be fine. But sometimes I'll just keep having my the dream. It won't stop. I'll wake up to JJ screaming my name and trying to calm me down. Did you know it was possible to have a panic attack in your sleep? I didn't. That was the night I asked JJ to stay with me. I couldn't sleep alone. If I did I couldn't wake myself up until I was suffocating.

There is a new picture of me and Sarah hanging on my wall, covering a new hole from where I threw my candle. JJ walked in to me sobbing staring at my bloody hands trying to clean up the mess I had made.

I feel like a fucking burden. I barely do anything, I only speak to JJ and that's if he can even get me to say anything. He forces me to eat and go sit somewhere other than my room. I'm a shell of a human. And I hate it. But I can't do anything to fix it.

☆

"JJ we need to do something," I can hear Kie trying to whisper from my living room.

"Well, what exactly is your plan Kie? You can't really just pull someone out of depression after their fucking brother dies." JJ snaps back

"I mean, Kie has a point, man. The only time she even speak to us now is when she's drunk off her ass. And I hate to say it but that's becoming a common occurrence." Pope add in.