Prompt: Hi Jen! How about you kill Ethan just once? I'm really curious how baby Will would react now.
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“Will! Will!”
My mom was calling my name, shaking me a little. My hand was uncurled, the way it had been when the phone slipped out of it onto the floor.
Sonnet was sitting on the couch staring in shock. Dad was next to her, his arm around her, trying to soothe her. I watched as her eyes watered and she turned, curling against dad. He held her tightly.
“Will,” mom said, her voice desperate, her own eyes watering. “Will, we’re right here. We’re right here for you. Please, say something. Please.”
“Ethan’s dead.”
I stared at the phone now. My mom had picked it up when I dropped it, and now my whole family knew what Ethan’s sobbing father had called me to say.
He had been home alone while his parents were at work. He had gotten hungry and dug through the fridge, eating some leftovers, none of the family knowing that there were nuts in it. When he realized what was happening, he had called 911. But he had been dead when they got there.
I shook my head slowly as I heard Sonnet crying. I looked at my mom, at the tears shining in her eyes.
“Ethan?” I said, my voice confused.
“Oh Will,” mom whispered, pulling me into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Tears burned at me, but I forced them back, because this couldn’t be right, he couldn’t be dead. Not the adorable, sarcastic boy I loved so much. He was just a kid. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t die. This kind of thing just didn’t happen. You read about it in the newspaper, felt pity for the family, and then moved on in your day. It didn’t happen to people like me and Ethan. It couldn’t. This was a nightmare. Ethan couldn’t be dead.
“Ethan,” I said, and this time my voice was choked.
I gripped my mom tightly, because I knew that I didn’t comprehend it yet, and I knew that when I did, I would fall to pieces.
***
I sat in the back of the room, my head down. There was a surprising amount of people lined up, but most were family and family friends.
Ethan’s parents stood near the casket, robotically hugging people and nodding at their condolences. They each gripped crumpled tissues in their hands, their eyes red from tears. Ethan’s dad kept his arm around his wife, but I couldn’t tell if it was to comfort her or himself.
“Do you want to go up, Will?” dad asked gently. “Sonnet is waiting for you to be ready.”
I looked up, because I didn’t want to go up there, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Ethan, I would never be ready to say goodbye to him.
But I forced myself to stand up. Sonnet got up as well and grabbed my hand, her face wiped of emotion aside from her trembling lower lip.
