All Too Well - Erik Menendez

Failing You.

Princeton. NJ. 1988.

Eriks POV:

The array of colours that shift in the sky within the moments that pass are nothing but reflections of myself. Dark, lifeless, voided nothingness circling the horizons, it is parallel to the atmosphere circling my mind. My body folds in on itself, my arms wrapped around my knees that situate as a table for my head. I stare into the moors. This gentle morning is filled with genuine winds, they matched my sobs for a while, until everything in me was let out. Silence becoming the result of the cascading emotions.

Coming here was a mistake, I just knew I shouldn't have done this. What was I really thinking? Disobeying my father and travelling to see Lyle after everything I've done. My shame humbles me entirely, gone, is any form of confidence I may have scraped at during the past 24 hours. Any happiness rubbed off of Lyle and directly integrated into me has now vanished.
I'm stripped, entirely, completely, again.

I can't register how long I've sat here, staring at the folds in the earth, the almost-frosty trees as I attempt to ignore the visible air as the oxygen mixes with my breath. I'm cold, but I'd rather be here than anywhere else. Here is my better option.

"Erik?"

I don't need to turn round. It's Lyle. However his tone is more melancholy — more careful, than I had previously pictured it would be.

"I'll come back and get my bags soon." It's all I can muster to speak.

His sigh cuts through any whistling the wind might be hollowing out. "What if I don't want that?"

Confused, I turn my head around, seeing a stern set of eyes that oddly enough, show no signs of anger. No signs at all. They inhabit thousands of hushed secrets and unspoken sentences, thoughts begging to be released but are bound by the manners of the human mouth.

His gaze stays situated on me as his footsteps move closer. He places himself directly next to me, his knees meeting his chest — he copies my exact position. His body language taking me back to childhood discussions, his eyes taking me back to childhood secrets.

"Erik, I —"

"I know what you're going to do and say, so just get it over with." My eyes cast away from his direction, my inability to face my punishment is as dominant as ever.

A hand sinks into my hair, the sudden movement makes me flinch before I realise the touch is entirely gentle. Too gentle, in fact.

"I don't like what's happening between us". His start beckons my eyes in his direction. "You speak of me like I'm a monster."

I can't help but scoff, not maliciously, but honestly. "Did you forget what happened when you found out about Craig and I originally?"

His eyes look up at me, and they're tormented. My usual Lyle has disappeared, he's replaced with a raw version of the boy I grew up with. So real, so raw, so haunted.

"These past months have been so fucking hard on me, E. I've been worried sick that you would-" His eyes shut tightly and he swallows firmly, pushing back against any emotion that dares to cut through his voice. "Do something bad to yourself, something that would make me lose you forever. I haven't been a good brother, and I know that's how you feel too. I know you see dad when you look at me."

His statement makes my breath hitch. Its honesty burns my face as I intake every syllable that rolls from his tongue. Again, so real, so raw.