Parker rode away on his age old bike, wobbling as he peered over his shoulder and waved to Chaise and Daisy. His mother had summoned him home; they had guests.
The bike bumped up the sloped driveway to Parker's house and he slipped off carelessly, wheeling the bike down the side of the building.
He entered through the back garage door, wiping the muck off his feet as he placed one foot in front of the other and stepped onto the cold tiles.
He bit his lip as he strode into the living room. There were not only a few people there, as his mum had suggested. There were over ten guests and they were all huddled around Giovanna, his mother.
Tears left streaks down the women's caked faces and Parker felt a thousand contrasting explanations charging into his mind, like an army of headaches.
"Parker, sweetie." Giovanna breathed, barely audible as she reached for her son. Parker said nothing, but crouched and embraced his mother.
"It's Jaison. He's got cancer." Giovanna sniffed lamentably.
"You mean my Jaison? My twin?" Parker questioned, his soft brown eyes struck with fear. Giovanna let out a wailing sob that echoed around the room, and wiped her nose with an already soggy handkerchief.
"But, Jaison is so . . . Healthy and stuff." Parker struggled to find the right words. Never before had he found himself so distressed, so confused and so very helpless.
"These things always seem to happen to the best of people." Parker's great aunt whispered. Parker was surprised to see her standing behind him. She never had much to do with their family, but preferred to spend her time alone.
"How long will he live? Is it curable? Will I ever see him again? What kind of cancer?" Parker babbled, a string of questions rambling out of his mouth without permission. But he was glad they did, he needed to know.
"We know nothing but cancer," Parker's father, Thomas, said. "He's at the hospital now."
Parker straightened and blinked back the moisture in his eyes. His legs weakened at the knees and he sunk again, this time letting the tears fall freely.
He attempted to stand again, now with the entire room of eyes upon him. He managed the small feat with some difficulty and stood for a moment. He trembled as he walked away, down the hall.
"Parker . . ." His mother called behind him, but he didn't halt. He gathered his strength and ignored his mother, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
Once inside, his chest burst with anguish and he fell to his knees at his bed. His brother meant everything. Every night spent huddled together after each other's nightmares; every pea thrown at the dinner table; every tackle, every hug; every memory shared. Jaison mustn't die, he couldn't die, and Parker would never give up on him.
He flung himself up from the bed, throwing his tense fists into the walls one after the other. He kicked the rattly cupboard doors, not caring how much damage he did.
A knock sounded at the doorway, and the door opened. Parker cried out, "Go away! You don't understand what this means to me!"
However, the presence stayed at the door, silent and still like a statue.
Parker whipped his head around, glaring at the doorway. His shoulders were hunched and he struggled to keep a straight face as his head shook violently with pressure.
An old woman stood rock-solid. Her eyes were unfocused and she had her head down.
"Do not cast curses at nature, son. It does what it must for a valid reason." She spoke softly, her lips cracking as they moved.
"I don't need your advice. What would you know?" Parker muttered, his voice wavering precariously.
"Enough." The woman replied, and turned her back to the boy.
