Withering Sanity

Chapter ONE

Chapter One
Athalia

My fingers drum against the steering wheel, matching the staccato rhythm of my heart thumping. I remained parked outside the bar with the sign that read Malcolm's. My legs bounce to the beat of nervousness as I give myself a less than helpful pep talk.

"You can do this. It's not a big deal." I tell myself even though that's the farthest thing from the truth.

I found him. I actually found him. Okay, well, I didn't find him. My social worker, Joyce, did but my point still stands. He's here and I'm about to meet him for the first time in 15 years. I'm about to meet my brother.

I had lucked out with Joyce. Even after I became of legal age and out of the system, she still looked out for me. So did my foster mum. I don't think many foster kids can say the same. I've had my fair share of bad foster homes but they never lasted thanks to Joyce and finally she stuck me with Mrs Jenkins.

Once I turned 18, I wasn't capable of living on my own yet and was still in my first year of law school. Knowing this, Mrs Jenkins hadn't pushed me to leave. In fact, she asked me to stay until I was ready to go. I managed to get an advanced diploma after a year and a half of law school and that's when Joyce called about my brother. That's when I knew I had to leave.

She told me he lived in a small town in Silverton, Colorado. It was almost a 7 hour drive getting here from Denver. And right now, I'm contemplating driving another 7 hours, back to Mrs Jenkins.

"Oh my God," the reality of the situation sets in once more and I drop my head to the steering wheel. Was showing up unannounced a bad idea? He is my brother, but for all I know, he doesn't remember me. Or he might not want to. If I managed to find him, I'm pretty sure he could have too. Does that mean he doesn't want to be found?

I'm just psyching myself out at this point.

"It's now or never," I murmur under my breath as I stepped out of my jeep and into the cool night. Instantly, frigid winds hit me like a brick wall, ruffling through my clothes and hair. Goosebumps prickle all over my skin and I hug my arms around my waist. It was much colder than I had expected.

I step out onto the street and walk towards the bar, trying my best to convince myself not to head back to my car.

Warm air welcomes me as soon as I enter the bar and I feel a part of my tension melt away.

Considering it's close to midnight on a Tuesday, there's barely anyone here. Someone's sweeping up an empty stage and there were only a handful of people at a table. As for the bar, it was being manned by one person. From what I know, which isn't much, there isn't a sign of my brother anywhere.

I walk towards the bar just as the bartender turns his back to me, allowing me a full view of his back and brown hair. He occupies himself with wiping glasses as I call out to him. "Excuse me."

He doesn't turn and I assume it's because I'm too far away to be heard, so I sit myself on a barstool and lean over to him. "Excuse me," I raise my voice but he still doesn't budge. His focus was on the shot glasses alone.

Rude.

I cross my arms over my chest wondering if this was how the small town worked. Was everyone here rude? The man at the gas station a few miles out had given me a similar treatment. Maybe driving up to an unfamiliar town wasn't the best idea.

Just as I'm about to turn around to leave, the brunette faces me. He smiles and tilts his head like he's waiting for me to say something and I'm completely thrown off.