Shards

I don't want it to be silent.

When I saw Maurices house for the first time, I was defintly not in the right mind to pay attention to where it was, exactly. I know her neighborhood is on the other side of town, I know its right by a condo complex and I know it's in a cul-de-sac but that's pretty much all I know at this point. As I wander around the neighborhood which I am pretty sure is Maruices, I can only hop that I'll recognize her house when I see it. Or maybe she'll be out walking. I could always message her on facebook to apologize but that just seems...Rude. I need to apologize face to face or else it doesn't count, right? 

"What do you want."

Maurice is standing behind me. Well, that's convient. I'm beginning to notice all the convient things that happen in my life. It's really weird, now that I think of it. 

"I'm sorry." 

"You should be." 

"I know."

We stare at each other. It's silent, I don't want it to be silent. I chew on my lip, and it's only a few seconds before I feel blood. She stares at me, she glares at me. I know what I did was wrong, trust me I know that better than anyone but I didn't know she would be this angry. What else am I supposed to say? I can't forge proper words, my mouth is dry expect for the blood I drew. 

"Are you going to apalogize or what?" She spits. Everyone seems to be spitting out their words lately. Maybe it's because they all hate me. Maybe it's because I hate myself. I don't know at this point. 

"I'm sorry for being so mean. And pushing you to tell me about Angelo's secret. And just being...Mean." Part of me wants to say 'sorry for being me' but I'm not here to make her feel bad for me. I'm not here to make her like me. I'm here to apalogize for what I did wrong. it doesn't matter what she thinks of me, I have all the time in the world to make to her like me again. Right now, though, that doesn't matter. Nothing matter besides her knowing that I regret what I did to her.

"Prove it." 

What? What does that mean?

"What do you mean?" I ask her. 

"Prove it. Prove that you're sorry." Maurice says.

I don't know how I'm supposed to do to prove that to her. At least, not right now. Shoot it from the rooftops? Slit my palm and make a blood pact to never do it again? Give her a gift? Sob uncontrollably? There's no way for me to prove it to her without time.I need time to change, I need time to grow. I can't prove that I'm sorry without changing and learning from my mistakes. I don't know what she wants me to do. There's no sure way of me fixing this without it taking weeks or even months for me to grow into a different person 

"So?" Maurice says. She crosses her arms, She looks like she's expecting something, like she's waiting. In a way, I guess she is. She's waiting for me to prove how sorry I am, even if I don't know for sure how I'm supposed to do that. Am I supposed to know? I feel like I should know.I feel like I should be proving myself. Should I? Should I be proving myself. I know why she's mad at me. I know that she thinks I'm a liar. That she thinks I'm just like Angelo. I think she hates Angelo.

"I hate Angelo too." I say. If I can make her feel like I'm just like her, I'm hoping that it'll show her that I didn't mean to do the mean things I did. "And I'm angry at him for being a liar, too. I know that what he did hurt you. I shouldn't have said that he didn't do those things. You knew him better than I did, after all."

She did. She knew what he was keeping, what he wasn't telling me. She had the blanks filled in, I didn't. It took me a long time to realize that. It took me longer to realize I hate him than it took me to realize I never knew him to begin with.

"Like hell you do. You would die if it meant bringing him back. Don't lie to me. " She says. "I've seen you two together. You worshipped the ground he walked on. You would do anything for him back, I'm not stupid. You're lying.

I take a deep breath, and I know what I have to say, how I'm supposed to prove to her that I'm not lying. "I would die if it meant him not coming back."

This takes her off guard. I knew it would, It would take anyone off guard. I've been wanting him to come back for so long that people can't fathom me hating him like I do. It makes my blood boil to see that box of his stuff, it's a feeling that for a moment, fills up the cracks in my heart and makes me forget he's gone. It only makes me thankful. I honestly don't know how I would feel if Angelo somehow came back to life. Angry. Pissed off. Sad.

Anything but whole again.

"What?" She says, startled. That's how I know it worked. She didn't have anything to say.

I just want her to believe that I really am sorry. The words coming out of my mouth aren't lies, I know they aren't. I don't want my brother to be back, I don't want him here with me like I did before. I hate him, I hate him more than anything in the world. I hate him more than the person who murdered him, I hate him more than panic attacks, i hate him more than the stupid therapist that asks me questions I don't know the answers to.

I wouldn't die for him to stay dead, though.

I'm worth more than that. I wouldn't do that for him, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that even after he died, I'm still obsessed with him. That he's still the only thing in my life with meaning anymore. It's not like I have friends, it's not like I actually talk to Mom anymore. I spend all my time doing things associated with him. I always have, even when he was alive.

"I hate Angelo." I croak out the words. "I hate him so much."