Colours

1. Your Little Brother Never Tells You But He Loves You So

Colours
Chapter 1

When I first got the news that Callum had plucked up the courage to actually end his life, I was in a meeting.

I was in a conference room, and they were talkig about who to give the job. I had excused myself from the meeting and when I got the news, my eyes brimmed with tears.

I had ran out of there, sobbing, even if it meant losing my job, my promotion, my passion.

I had screamed my lungs out, and cried.

When I finally got to the hospital room, I braced myself.

'It's okay to cry, Lillian. It's okay to scream, and shout and wail.' I had consoled.

But unexpectedly, when I saw him laying there my heart broke, my eyes brimmed but no tears came out. No cries, no sobs, no wails, no shouts.

Silence.

I guess it made sense as for the half hour drive across town to the hospital, I did sob my heart out.

The first thing I noticed, was Joshua, his younger brother. I was kind of confused.

You know how brothers have that love-hate relationship? Yeah, well, when you first met them, you'd think they have that. But no, Joshua and Callum absolutely despise each other. They have never showed any signs of compassion and it's hard to believe that they are actually family, they hate each other so much.

What breaks my heart is that Joshua is crying really heavily, like I was a while ago and he's holding Callum's hand.

"Please don't leave me, Callum. I know you hate me but I'm sorry for everything I've ever done, Callum. I'll be a better younger sibling, Callum," he mutters.

The repetitive use of his name sounds like mockery but I can see the genuine look on his face.

The second thing I notice, is the empty seat next to Callum's tired-looking father.

His mother isn't there, obviously. I hate to speak with such venom about her but she never cares for any of her family, especially not Callum.

"The news?" I ask softly.

"He overdosed on his blue pills but I found him just in time," he looks like he's going to cry. "I'm sorry I can't hold it in. I can imagine it's just as bad for you," he sniffed.

"You're his father, don't be silly. Callum just needs to know that you care."

"He wrote you a letter," he says quietly.

"What?" I say, startled.

"But I'd rather you not read it. When I found him, he said 'If I survive, don't read my letter, don't let Lillian or Kenneth read theirs either,' so I assumed he meant it."

"Oh," I say. "I understand." I nod.

I don't understand. I want to know what he wrote.

My heart perks up at the fact that he only wrote three letters - for three of the most important people in his life. His father, his best friend and me.

Me.

I look over at his sleeping face. What if it wasn't positive things and I wasn't good enough for him?

I wasn't good enough for him. The words swirled around my head repeatedly.

"On the front of your letter's envelope it said 'I love you'," his father, who always insisted I call him 'Ben', spoke up, as if he could read my thoughts of doubt.

"Okay," I nod, trying to wrap my head around it. "Is he going to be alright?"

"He's in a coma, but the doctors say he'll snap out of it soon, maybe in a couple of days," Ben explains. "Josh has been worried sick. Jemima couldn't care for all she's worth," he refers to his wife bitterly.

"Right," I say slowly. "I- I need...time. Call, text, anything if you have any news."

"Understood," he says, looking over at his son once more.

I walk over to pale, lifeless Callum, who would've been believed dead if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Josh moved slightly to give me room.

"I love you. To the moon and back, with all my heart," I said, remembering our thing. I pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning away, the only sound coming from the clacking of my heels.

Taking one last look at Callum's limp hand in Joshua's, I leave the room.

In a blurry haze, I somehow get to our apartment, which isn't the best idea as everything reminds me of Callum.

I sink to my knees against the wall, hugging myself and muttering nothings to myself.

He'll be fine, right? Right. I keep on repeating it because at the back of my mind a voice tells me that if I say it enough times it'll come true.

I find myself praying to God. Personally, I don't believe in a higher or supreme being as I wasn't brought up that way but I know that Callum did-does. Everything he'd said about God did make sense to me, but that's just how Callum is. He's a good speaker on his opinions and he can make even the people who's life motto is 'deny, deny, deny' go 'hmm, that does make a point'.

"Dear God, Buddha, Jesus, whoever's out there, please, please help Callum get better and realise he has people who love him. Please let him get over his depression ph-" I pause. He hates it when I refer to it as a 'phase'. "-depression thoughts and know that I love him. His father loves him. His brother never tells him but he loves him so."

My eye suddenly catches the shopping bag from yesterday that I bought to gift people at Christmas.

Yes, I celebrate christmas, so what?

My legs get up and go towards the bag, my fingers reach out and pull out a pale blue and purple notebook.

I take it in my hand and look around for a pencil. When I find one, I settle down on the sofa, pencil ready, hovering a centimetre above the air. I poise the pencil between my finger and thumb, writing possible sentences in the air, a centimetre above the actual page.

I constantly change the words to describe how I feel, not properly writing as none of them feel right.

I finally settle with eleven words that fit. Callum's favourite number.

Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so.

___________________________