Haunting Shadows (Book 2)

Chapter 22

The memory was so sharp in Andreas’ mind that when it finally let go he was panting, tears he didn’t know he had rolling down his cheeks. It was a constant nightmare, one that never wanted to let him go but he always managed to get out of before all the details of that day came back to him. But his defenses were worn down. His fight broken that the most painful of his losses could no longer be buried in the deepest recesses of his mind where he had kept it for so long.

Andreas had just turned seventeen when Dylan was killed, a couple of short months after he had to watch his friend die, the catalyst to a chain reaction of deaths close to Andreas. Sometimes he wondered why the world couldn’t just take him instead. Why keep killing everyone around him and keep him alive? It was the worst kind of curse, one he wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve. He was determined to give the universe a reason though.

But all of that dissipated as quickly as it came as the image of his brother’s lifeless face drifted back in his mind’s eye. Those dark blue eyes, only on shade light than his older brother, blank as they stared up at the sky. To this day, Andreas admired the fact that they never once looked frightened. Even his five year old brother was stronger than him.

He remembered the first time Dylan said the word “brother”. It was weeks before his first birthday and he was wobbling over to Andreas, his eyes and smile wide. “Brota, brota!” he exclaimed as he reached Andreas and his balance wavered. Andreas caught him before he fell and the two brothers shared a hug. It was one of Andreas’ favorite memories, bit one that he could never recall without tears threatening to fall from his eyes. His hand went up to his eyes now wet with tears he couldn’t hold back no matter how hard he tried.

When Dylan was two years old, he could run and speak in full sentences, but never could pronounce Andreas. Instead, Dylan always called him Scotty. Andreas hated being referred to by his middle name, and Dylan was the only one allowed that special privilege. “Scotty! Scotty! Play tag, play tag?” the youngster requested on several occasions. Andreas would relent to his pleas and usually gave into anything that his baby brother asked him. Emilia just laughed when she caught them running down the halls.

This memory, like the others, stung with a force Andreas was unused to. The emotional turmoil felt like a physical onslaught, leaving him gasping for breath. He wondered why he was being bombarded by these memories now when he was able to keep them hidden for so long, when he could keep his feelings locked up for so long. Unless –

“Scotty!” a small, high-pitched voice of a toddler said, breaking Andreas into a million tiny little pieces. His eyes found Dylan instantly and he because the image of a man broken beyond repair. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

All at once, every single moment he had spent with Dylan flashed on the inside of his eyes. Every game they had played, every time Andreas threw him in the air to catch him, every single interaction, overwhelming him. But he would get no relief. The images kept attacking him, refusing to let him go, refusing to let him live in the present. He could not think, react, even breathe. He was sitting shocked into a statue, staring at the small figure running toward him.

He was surprised that he could feel him at all when Dylan jumped into his arms. The cove was cruel, sadistic but giving him his brother with the knowledge he would be taken away too soon again. Too soon. Andreas’ arms embraced Dylan automatically and then every dam, every wall, every piece of armor in his possession obliterated into nothingness. Andreas’ soul was laid bare for any and all to see and he began crying. Crying until a point where he didn’t think he’d ever stop, all the while holding onto the shadow of his brother. Dylan must’ve known what was going on, because not once did he try to pull away or complain. He just patted Andreas’ back softly, trying to comfort his older brother. This action on broke Andres further. It was not supposed to be like this. Dylan had gotten so wise, and yet he was still only five years old, stuck that was for all eternity while the world kept spinning, even though time felt suspended to Andreas. He didn’t want to have it start again.