As I awoke, I knew today was going to be like no other. I could feel it in my gut. My soul started to hear the cries of innocent men and women yearning for help. But I didn’t know it at the moment.
Until, I got the news.
My mother had awoken me from my deep slumber; I remember her soft murmur in my ear as she gently caressed my hair, Something she hasn’t done since I was a little child. “Carrie please wake up.”
But I knew there was something wrong. My mothers joyous input was now turned into a devastating cry. The essence of sadness is all I remember from her voice that day. I was frightened, and my thoughts were racing. I could hear the rhythm of my mother’s heart beat against the back of my neck as she held me, squeezing me tighter and tighter. Her heart began beating faster and faster as she strived to utter those horrific words, Words that I never thought I would ever have to hear.
“You’re brother has passed away”
As I opened my eyes for the first time, I had seen the light of day. I immediately closed them again, not by choice, but by force.
All those wonderful memories of swimming in the lake and late night movie watching had all flooded back to me in a wave of flashbacks. “The funeral is tomorrow, be ready tonight, we have to be at you’re Uncle Kevin’s house by noon” is what it took to bring me back to reality. My mother tenderly aforesaid those chilling words, Then she let go of me lightly and I immediately checked the clock. 5:27 was the time.
Getting my clothes ready was probably the hardest part. My hands were trembling as I struggled to carefully fold each piece of delicate fabric. Suddenly tear drops began glistening my summer dresses as thoughts about my older brother Rob had raced through my mind. He was 19 when he passed away, me only 17. We moved to Jacksonville Florida a few months before he died, He got into a physical altercation with one of the neighbor boys and my mother though it would be best if he moved to the rural countryside of Akron Alabama with my uncle.
We’ve always had problems with my brother in the past, he was known around town as a “hooligan” or a “trouble maker” also my mother and him used to argue a lot and she had no idea why he was acting that way, but I always knew, it was a deep underlying issue we were faced with when him and I were kids.
We didn’t have a father when we were growing up. He passed away when I was very young and my mother never really told me what happened to him, so I have been making up scenarios from time to time whenever I was asked that depressing question.
It doesn’t bother me being asked where my father is now, but when I’m asked how he perished is when I get gloomy.
I never really look at pictures of him; I’ve only see photographs of him when I am forced to. Looking at his smiling handsome face in photographs is a poignant reminder of that depressing but unclear time in my life. So every photograph of him has been turned around one time or another like he wasn’t ever here.
Finally every article of clothing was carefully folded and placed into a worn, stained suitcase, for that is all we had.
My mother didn’t have a very good job. She was a cashier at a local diner, working 9 to 5. She was always exhausted when she came home, which left me to care for my 6 year old Brother Ethan.
I had more responsibilities than any normal 17 year old should but today was different.
As we finally got in the car 2 and a half hours have already passed and my mother and little brother were like zombies.
The usual laughing and singing had stopped and a chilling sense of silence had come about them and it was not normal, it wasn’t like the usual sadness I knew something was totally different, it’s like they weren’t even there.
As kept tapping my mothers shoulder and calling her name, “Mom?” “Mom, are you okay?” She wouldn’t respond. She didn’t even flinch when I waved my hands in her face, and Ethan was just steadily looking out the window. When I pulled his shoulder towards me he didn’t make a noise, he just kept looking, like a widow searching for her husband lost at sea.
Everything about this car ride was unusual. I kept getting an eerie feeling like something was going to happen... something bad.
To keep my mind off the deep hypnosis state my family had seemingly “falling into.” I had fallen asleep.
“Carrie come eat your breakfast right now, it’s going to get cold!” said Rob. I appeared at my Uncle Kevin’s house, I was in the living room, and it was like I last remembered it, a gorgeous fireplace with a beautiful milky white coat of paint.
The paint on his walls always looked fresh, like they’ve just been freshly painted minutes before my fingertips grazed upon them.
As I carefully walked into the kitchen, the smell of fall just came across me. I smelled things I haven’t smelled since I last visited my uncle’s house. Apples and cinnamon, and freshly washed laundry. Everything in his house smelled so clean.
When I finally made my way in the kitchen there was a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice on the table, and my brother rob sitting across from my place. He was dressed in all white, it was a beautiful day outside, there were birds chirping, and there were sounds of roosters from next door, and he looked exactly the way I remembered him. He was a very tall boy, with short golden hair and dark brown eyes. A nervous feeling came across me like I wasn’t even dreaming. It felt so real.
As I sat across from him he had extended his arms across the table like he wanted to touch me, and a smile on his face. “Rob, what happen…” is all I could say before he snatched my hands, he was squeezing them as tight as he could and he slowly worked his way across the table. “Rob, you’re hurting me!” is all I could say. His strength was otherworldly like. He made his way to my ear with a firm grip on my arms and he said to me “I’m not dead…”
