Love in the Creek

Chapter One: Death Sucks

Eden's p.o.v.

I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to be around them. Not now anyways. I'm sitting in a funeral home staring at my little brother laying in a casket. My little brother, who was supposed to outlive me by years and years. But, no. He is stone cold, lifeless. The little four-year-old body is lying motionless when it should be annoying the crap out of me while I try to do my homework. He should be dancing around the living room. He should be alive.

Cancer. The worst thing that could happen to a family who has just had a string of good luck. We got the news on the eve of the day I was supposed to head for Massachusetts for the summer. I go there every summer to spend time with my cousin, Pacey. He never gets to come to Nebraska, so getting to see him is always a treat. If Jude, my brother, wasn't my best friend, Pacey was. We always email back and forth when we get the chance. But when we got the news of my brother's cancer, I was adamant on staying home to help my parents whenever they needed it. They told me I should just go to Capeside to get away from all of the stress. I said no because we needed to save money for the hospital bills that would eventually begin to add up. They let me stay, with only one condition. I would go to my grandparent's house for the days when my brother came home after having to deal with chemo. Usually it would be just one day. But if my brother was still throwing up a lot, it could add up to a week. But I would always look foward to seeing him when I would get home from my grandparents house.

Things were getting better. The doctors were able to get the tumor under control. It was still bad, but I could tell my brother was feeling better. He was able to eat without a feeding tube. He could run around without having to worry about getting sick because of the tumor that formed in his leg. He was able to pester me while I was doing homework. I was able to flip him upside down and not have to worry about him throwing up all over me. It felt like we were going to be able to be a normal family again.

Eventually, they were able to say he was in remission. About a week after that, he was put on life support. No one could understand what I was going through. The doctors tried to sympathize, but it never worked. Every time I would go to the hospital in Omaha, I couldn't even bring myself to go up there, even if it was to see my parents. Seeing a little body, that was practically lifeless, did something to my brain. I was afraid that if I went into the room, my brother would go into cardiac arrest. So I never went to the hospital. It wasn't until I was told that life support couldn't even keep him alive much longer, that I went into the room to say goodbye.

Saying goodbye to a person you know you won't see tomorrow, you won't see in a week, or in a year is something that takes an incredible amount of strength. By the time I got to his room, silent sobs were shaking my body. My parents weren't in the room. They couldn't watch their oldest say a final goodbye to her best friend, their youngest. Fifteen-year-old's should never have to do what I had to do. My little brother was my best friend. My little Jude. My little dude. My best friend was dying before my eyes.

He always liked it when I sang to him. He would always request his favorite song You Are My Sunshine by Johnny Cash. I always sang it to him before he would go to bed. He would always fall asleep during the last chorus. I knew if he were able to talk right now, it would be his actual bedtime. He would come running up to me saying "Eden! It's time for my song! I'm tired!" So I did what felt right, I started to sing the song.

"You are my sunshine" sobs start coming out more frequently. "My only *deep breath* sunshine. You make me h-happy when skies are g-g-gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love *intense sobs* you. Please don't take my sunshine a-a-a-way." All of a sudden his heart rate monitor starts beeping like crazy. A lot of doctors started running into the room and told me to get out because they didn't want me to be in the room when the inevitable happened. I knew I should have left, but my feet were glued to the floor. I just couldn't bring myself to leave the room. After what felt like an eternity, my grandfather pulled me out of the room. I turned around and started to sob into his chest. I couldn't think of it. My little brother. My best friend was lying in a hospital bed, dying. The doctors tried to revive him, but it was no use. After ten minutes of trying to revive him, they finally stopped their efforts. My brother was dead, and I was no longer living, but alive. My brother, Jude Witter, passed away on August 19th, 1998.

My parents wanted me to take time away from home. They wanted me to get away. I didn't want to because school had just started. I did not want to have to make up a lot of school work because I was grieving. Homework actually helped me cope. It kept my mind out of what had happened. Little did I know my parents had been working with the school to get me to move to Capeside and live with my cousin for a while.