Miracles of Matters

Prologue

There is this one question that has puzzled our little 10% usage of our brains: Is the glass half empty or half full? If you assume that it is half empty, then you might have a rather negative outlook on life, but are always striving towards your next goal, and probably have a competitive side to you. If you see the glass as half full, then you might have a more positive outlook on life, but yet, can be a rather worrying person, maybe thinking that this could be the last liquid that ever meets your lips and runs down your throat. Me, what are my views, I hear you ask dear reader? Well, I believe that it is literally just half, and if you doubled it, then it would overflow. You could say I'm a realist, and  I guess I am, but lately I have had time to ponder these things, since the turning of unfortunate events. I didn't think about this though on that night, since I was completely and utterly drowning my sorrows, and was drunk to the bone, staggering about ordering more drinks.

 My brother Jake was there too, making sure I was alright, not running out into any cars or kicking off any fights. (He had learned never to trust me) Jake was standing in his red velvet coat, his trousers raised up and his DMs fully polished so much you can see your reflection in them. By sight, you would think he was going to the bloody proms, not the poky pub downtown in the streets of West Ham. 

"You stay good alright, I'm just going out for a cigarette," Jake spoke to me, in his full Scottish accent, his black hair perfectly combed into a quiff on his smooth forehead. 

"I'm not five years old Jake!" I shouted in drunken anger and to this day, I regret every syllable that came out of my mouth on that night. ""I can look after myself you know! Ever considered that? Maybe if you give me a chance to branch out on my own, you wouldn't have the profession of hovering over me!" I screamed, as many of the local pub drinkers were gathering around the older brother and the drunken sister who was screaming in a temper as if her life depending on it.

"Well, if I could actually trust you I would!" he began to shout in his fiery Scottish accent as his green grassy eyes grew sorrow, so you tell he was hurt, as deaf defying eyebrows drooped down. 

"Come on Holly! We're going back to the flat right now!" he shouted, as he dragged me out by the arm, his grip not giving in despite my efforts not to leave.

When we got out of the pub, Jake, having had a couple of drinks himself was now walking backwards, into, little did I know, the road.

"Jake! Look out!" I shouted.

"Whats the matter, Holly? Can't stand me walking backwards?" he said, as a lorry cascaded into him. And they were his last ever words to me, to anyone, to the world.

I let out a huge cry as I ran towards him, the driver looking spellbounded as he stepped out of the lorry to help me.

"Miss? Is your friend ok miss?" He asked, rushing over to help.

"I don't want your help! You did this!" I screamed, as I threw up on the ground, green liquid pouring out of my mouth and down my jacket.

"We need to dial 999 miss!" The driver said, but as I checked Jake's pulse, realizing there wasn't one, I collapsed in fear and shock, my body twitching all over, having a panic attack.

Everything was a blur after that. Loads of blue and red flashing lights, stretchers and ambulances. They saved me, but they didn't save Jake, who had gone to a better place they told me, but he had died hating me, being the  older protective brother he always had been, and I knew it.

The funeral was even worse, as I saw his coffin being lifted into the ground, I knew that I was the guilty one. if I hadn't been selfish, or if I had been sober. The church broke out into a song in the last minutes of the funeral. The song was Ed Sheeran, Thinking Out Loud, which me and Jake always used to sing at the top of our voices, which made me cry buckets of real tears.

 I had barely had a wink of sleep since the incident, so Sky my flat mate, and best friend, decided I needed cheering up, as I sat down on the edge of my bed, hugging all the pictures of Jake I could find around the flat, sobbing quietly to myself.

"Any better today?"  asked Sky, peered through to my room.

"Not really," I sobbed, looking through the photo album of when me and Jake had been in  Disneyland Florida, posing with Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

"I need to drastically cheer you up don't I? Any movie you've been wanting to see?" she asked, as she tossed me the whats on listings at the local cinema. I looked through the movies with weakened eyes, until one caught my eye, a Marvel movie, my favorite kind of movie.

"That one, " I pointed, like a little five year old baby girl, pointing to the movie that was listed

Thor.

"Sure, I'll come with you," said Sky.

Just before I left, I wrote in my little secret diary that I kept hidden under my bed, as Sky got her shoes on in the hallway. I've got this to remember Jake.

'So you brought out the best in me, I part of me I'd never seen, you took my soul and wiped it clean, our love was made for movie screens.'