"TOM!" My brother Aled shouted. His loud footsteps boomed up the stairs. I zipped up my case and grabbed my backpack off the bed. "You ready, Thomas?" He called out. I left my bedroom and clicked the door closed behind me. "Yes and for the last time stop calling me Thomas! I'm a girl for Gods sake!" I hissed at him. When I was born my Mom had told my Dad to go register my name. They'd been expecting a boy, you see, so they had picked out the name accordingly. My Dad, who was drunk at the time, went to register my name. Forgetting that they'd had a girl he named me Tom. Much to my older brothers' amusement. 22 years later, they still call me Thomas. I dragged my case down the stairs, being cautious not to trip, and set it in the hall. With Aled in tow I made my way into the lounge where my other two brothers were sat. There was Jared, who was the eldest of us all. He had his tousled brown hair between his fingers. He was clearly stressed. "Calm down butt munch, you know everything will be okay." I comforted him. He smiled weakly and two rows of perfect white teeth were revealed, something all four of us had inherited, without the need of braces, thanks to our parents. I looked up at Jared, his hazel eyes clouded over, threatening to spill. "Come on Jared. No tears. We'll be back in a month or so. It's not the end of the world." His muscular arms wrapped tightly around my neck. Once Jared had released me from his bone crushing hug, I stepped towards Oli. "Take care of Aled won't you?" Oli gulped. I nodded and closed the space between us. I broke away from the hug and Oli adjusted his short sweeping locks. He rolled up his sleeves and took my case outside. I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his arm, a grave stone, identical to the one on his other arm.
‘In loving memory of Rosie Phillips, a mother, a wife, a friend’. The left one read. The opposite one said ‘Here lies Sean Phillips, he is loved dearly and missed terribly.’
I winced slightly at the sight. Although I'd embedded the ink into his skin myself, it never quite sunk in how accurate the tattoos were as to real life. "Make sure you drive safe" Jared ordered. I laughed slightly and jumped into the passenger seat, beside Aled. We pulled out of the drive way, Jared and Oli waved us off. "Looking forward to warped, Tom?" Aled asked. Breaking me away from my thoughts. "Yeah, how about you? I mean this is quote a big deal for Kids in Glass Houses, right?" I questioned Aled. Being the sister of the lead singer for KIGH had is benefits. Like travelling America to shoot photos of my favourite bands. It meant I had to take time off working at the tattoo parlour but being a free lance photographer felt much more rewarding. "Totally" Aled cheered, "can't wait to go meet the guys, I bet they're buzzing." He added. I patted Aled shoulder, "Mom and Dad would be so proud, you know." I stated. Aled smiled brightly. It had been just over 5 years since they died. They were going to visit Jared and Oli at university, when they got lost. They tried to do a U turn in a quiet road; a lorry had come speeding over and smashed into them. They died due to the force of the impact. Crushed instantly. Jared and Oli had blamed themselves but Aled and I knew that it was no bodies fault. My brothers had all become really protective since then.
I awoke to a large hand shaking my shoulder, "Tom. Wake up, we're at the airport now" Aled informed me. Sleepily I sat up and got out the car. Retrieved my case from the boot and headed over to the big building. "Aled! Tom!" Andrew shouted as we entered the airport terminal. "Tom you look great, how you feeling?" Phillip questioned. I hadn't seen Phillip in a while. "I'm good now thanks!" I told him truthfully. Not even 2 years ago I was in a terrible car accident due to a drunk driver. They'd told my brothers my coma was persistent and the chances of me waking up were slim and the chances of me being able to walk again were even smaller. After 5 months of being in a coma I woke up. No brain damage but I'd had temporary memory loss and I couldn't walk. Strenuous physiotherapy sessions had gained the use of my legs and I'd been regaining my memory back ever since. I’d almost completely recovered however sometimes I’d wake up and forget how to walk, which meant on bad days I had to use a wheel chair. The other problem, was that I couldn’t remember anything about the accident and I can’t remember waking up or being in hospital. I guess the brain chooses what it wants to remember. According to my brothers, my car had broken down on the motorway and it was late. I had been waiting for help when the drunken driver sped into the driver’s side of the car. We took our bags and my wheelchair over to the check in, where we were instructed to sit in the lounge and wait until the tannoy gave us further instructions.
