Forgetting Roman

{fifty-two}

{fifty-two}

                “I leave in two days,” Parker said as he sat beside me on the porch swing. It was a little after midnight, and yet we were both still awake. It was the third of January and break was almost over with which meant that Parker was scheduled back to leave.

                The entire break had gone smoothly with him around. Our parents hardly fought and for the first time in years it felt as if we were a family. There was nothing that drew a huge divide between us all. This Holiday there was no divorce, there was no family problems; there was no suicidal daughter.

                It was just us.

                Taking a drag from my cigarette I exhaled the smoke in my lungs and flicked the burned ash off the tip of my cig. “I know.”

                Next to me, my brother shook his head and extended his hand, “Mind if I take a drag?”

                Glancing over at him, I arched a brow and handed him the cigarette. “Since when did you start smoking?”

                “I don’t,” he replied as he took along drag, “At least not cigarettes.”

                A loud laugh escaped my lips as I took a good look at my older brother who sat beside me with a sheepish smile on his face.

                “What?” he asked shyly.

                “Nothing.” I replied with a small smile as I took out another cig and lit it up.

                “I’m gonna miss you,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “Leaving the first time was hard enough. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay away that long again this time around.”

                “I’m doing better, Parker.”

                “For how long?”

                “Do you have that little faith in me, bro?” I asked a bit offended.

                “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, Aspen.” Parker sighed, smoke visible in the moonlight. “It’s the world we live in that I don’t have faith in. This world has gone to complete shit. I’ve seen things that I wish I hadn’t. And then I think about you in this town and I wonder if I made a mistake leaving to fight overseas when I should be here fighting to keep you sane.”

                “I don’t need you to fight for my sanity, Parker. I can fight my own demons.”

                “Are you sure, Aspen? Look at your fucking arms. Does that look like you took care of your demons?”

                “I’m still here,” I snapped. “I’m fighting, Parker. Every day I’m fighting to stay in this fucked up world because I want to live. You hear that, bro? I want to live. The suicidal chick wants to live!”

                I took a long drag and ran my free hand through my hair, “I don’t want you leaving this fucking house in two days time with a clouded mind. I’m fine. I’m sorting my shit out. This-.” I said pulling my sweater sleeve up to reveal my scars. “This is over.”

                Parker stared at me and stubbed out his cigarette. “You promise?”

                I shook my head, “No. But I do promise to take it a day at a time.”

                My brother nodded and pulled me into his side and kissed the side of my head. “I love you, Aspen. I just want the best for you. I can’t lose you.”

                “You’re not,” I mumbled into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. But you are and when you leave in two days I don’t want you leaving with all this shit on your mind. I’m fine. Things are getting better.”

                “You once told me that things always get better before they get worse.”

                I shrugged, “And you once told me mom shitted me out.”

                Parker laughed, his deep chuckle shaking me as he still had me pinned to his side. “Oh yeah, I told you, you were a poop baby.”

                I rolled my eyes and pulled away, taking one last drag from my cigarette. “Dickhead.”

                My brother laughed again and it was then that I realized I was going to miss him as well- a lot.