Flashbacks

"Oh goodness, Bernard. You don't look so good. Let's put you into bed, buddy."

I don't feel well at all. I am warm, and my body feels so sore, that I can't move. Barry smiled sadly, and picked me up. He carries me to the bedroom we share, and puts me down in my bed.

I sneeze, and shake my head. "I-I-I don't feel very sick, Barry," I try telling him, beginning to get out of bed. "I'll be okay."

I try to walk back to the library, but I feel so drifty but heavy at the same time, I collapse onto my knees in the middle of the room. Barry sighs, and walks over to pick me back up. He carries me back to bed, and tucks me in all nice and cozy.

"You need rest, little buddy. You're not feeling well, and you need rest. I'm right here, and I'm going to take care of you."

I cough, as Barry turns on the thermometer.

"Open up."

I open my mouth, and let Barry slip the thermometer under my tongue. When there's a shrill beep, he takes it out, and looks at my temperature.

"100.8, buddy. You gotta rest up, okay?"

"Okay Barry."

Barry smiles sadly again, and strokes my sweaty forehead.

"Here, buddy. You look kind of warm. Let's take off your shirt, okay? You'll feel much cooler."

"O-okay, Barry."

Barry helps me sit up, then takes of my vest, then shirt, setting them both aside.

"There. That better, little buddy?"

"Y-yes. Thank you Barry."

Barry smiles sweetly. "There's no need to thank me, little guy. It's what brother's do for each other."

Barry gets up, and leaves the room for a minute. When he comes back, he has a little medicine cup. It is filled halfway with a thick, sugary, pinkish-purple medicine. I gasp softly, and hide under the covers.

Barry sits beside the bed. "I know, little guy. You don't like taking medicine. But you know what?"

"Wh-what?"

"It'll make you feel better even faster. And you know what else?"

"What is it?"

"I personally think this medicine tastes good, little buddy. If I could, I'd drink it as a drink! Give it a taste; it's very sweet."

I slowly but surely come out of the covers. Barry helps me sit up, and he gives me the medicine cup.

As Barry rubs my back, I tip my head back, and slowly let the medicine slip down my throat. And Barry is right...it tastes pretty okay! Like a mixture of sweet, wild grapes and some kind of candy.

"That's a boy, Bernard! What do you think?"

"It's not bad!"

Barry smiles, and gives me a hug, then pecks me on the cheek.

"I'm glad. Now, you know what will make you better even more faster than just the medicine?"

"What is it, Barry?"

"A nice, long nap. Now, lie down and get cozy."

I do, and let Barry pull the covers back over me.

"Close those little eyes of yours."

Barry smiles, and tickles the space between my eyes.

I giggle, and let them drop shut.

Barry watches me, making sure I fall asleep. I yawn squeakily, and smack my lips as I begin to drift into a deep slumber. As Barry gently continues to stroke me, I allow my eyelashes to flutter as I fall into a gentle sleep.

I opened my eyes, and smiled to myself. As tears stung my eyes, I thought to myself "That was such a good day."

I had fallen ill that day, and Barry had taken care of me. His singing voice was always perfect, and it was light and buttery; perfect for singing lullabies. As hot tears streamed down my cheeks, I held Barry's sunglasses close to my heart, and fell fast asleep once again.

Barry and I sit by the pool, just talking and keeping each other safe. I have my fingers intertwined with Barry's, and we sit thigh-to-thigh.

Barry looks over at me, and smiles. I hug him around the waist.

"I love you, Barry."

"And I love you too, Bernard."

We sit quietly in a knowing silence for a little, when Barry reaches up to scratch his nose. It accidentally knocks his sunglasses off of his nose, and it reveals his blind eyes.

They're not scary or anything. They're just their normal golden-brown color like they've always been. But they just stare straight ahead at one spot, and they never, ever move for any reason.

"Oops! Hang on, Bernard. Let me just get my glasses. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay, Barry."

Barry smiles, and gives me another hug, then slides himself into the water.

He's close to the sunglasses on the bottom of the pool, when all of a sudden, something invisible pushes Barry. The water monster!

I stand up. "Barry! Be careful!," I cry.

In the water, there is splashing and sputtering as Barry fights back. All of a sudden, there is a burst of red in the water. It's...it's Barry's blood! He's bleeding!

"BARRY!," I scream, hoping he'll hear me. But it's too late. The water lurker grabs Barry by the neck, and brings him to the bottom of the pool. Pleased with his "work," the water lurker leaves through a tube in the pool wall.

"BARRY!! BARRY NOOOO!!," I scream, starting to cry. I dive into the red water, and grab Barry's sunglasses. Then I swim over to Barry, and pull him to the surface, cupping his chin in my hand as I swim him to safety. Once we're there, I hoist him onto solid ground.

"Barry, wake up!," I sob. "Wake up! Please!! You can't be dead! BARRY!! WAKE UUUUUUUUPPPPP!!!"

The worst just happened...Barry is dead. The water lurker just killed my brother!

"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!"

My eyes snapped open. What a nightmare...

I sat up, and wiped away my tears. "D-damn," I whispered to myself. For a few minutes, I held Barry's sunglasses close to my heart, and let the tears run down my cheeks.

I pulled myself out of bed, and opened a drawer of my dresser. In it, I stored the worn-out, but still cuddly plushie lion I used to sleep with when I was little. The one Barry gave to me for my sixth birthday. In the drawer was also a picture of dear, dear Barry.

In the picture was 15-year-old Barry, who had an arm around me, 9 years old. Barry had a chestnut brown bowl cut, his bangs slightly wavy at the ends. He wore a brown, leather jacket that was turtleneck, and had a few golden buttons on it. He also had on brown pants, and dark brown combat boots. Perched on his nose were dark sunglasses that hid his golden brown eyes - the ones I held in my hands just then. The picture was taken approximately three months before Barry was killed, and it brought back so many memories.

Sighing, I took out the lion as well, and I set the framed picture on my nightstand. I got back into bed, and covered up, turning the picture for an easier view of my brother. I held my plushie lion snugly and close to my heart; just like I did when I was young.

"I miss you, Barry," I whispered through tears, before letting a couple of them run down my cheeks. I closed my eyes, and fell fast asleep again, thinking about my dear brother.

"I love you, Barry. I'll always love you. You're always in my heart and thoughts."