Letters From A Dead Man

8 | the aftermath

May 4th, 4:18 am

Yesterday after the hospital, Ash and I picked up the anxiety medication Dr. Clark gave me before she dropped me back off at home.

After she left I felt restless and cleaned my entire apartment. By the time I finished it was already past dinner time.

I read the second letter from the box, thinking that it would tell me why I am the one who got stuck with all these problems. But instead, I ended up crying because of Brooke's.

He might not have said it in the letter, but it was implied that he was sexually assaulted by that man.

Even just thinking about him, or anyone going through something like that at such a young age is terrible.

After reading it I haven't been able to sleep. I've either been crying or thinking that I don't deserve to when someone like Brooke was constantly haunted by his past everyday. It's not fair that while he was probably having nightmares in his dorm, I was sleeping peacefully in my apartment.

It makes me sick to know what he went through, and I really do wish I could hunt that man down and kill him myself.

It's strange if I think about it though. I never met Brooke once in the time he was alive, and yet I've cried more for him than I ever have for myself. If anyone else knew the kind of emotions I've gone through the last few days they'd probably think I had lost it.

Crying for a boy you never met seems futile. But to me I feel as if I'm getting to know a deeper side of Brooke through his letters. It's like I'm flipping through the different layers of his heart and discovering a new part of myself as I do.

Brooke might be gone now, but no one he knew in the time he was alive knew about what I'm learning now that he's gone.

No one got to see the vulnerable side of him or learn about his childhood and hold him while he cried. He didn't have anyone he could trust except for some stranger after he was finally freed from this world.

A loud knock on the door snaps me out of my never ending thoughts. I turn my head towards the door, my eyes catching the clock on the wall which now reads seven thirty.

I blankly blink around the room, my body feeling both exhausted and heavy.

A click echoes through the room and I watch as Asa walks inside. He's got a small scowl on his face but I'm too tired to ask why.

"Dude, I buzzed you three times. Are you just doing this on purpose now?" He asks as he closes the door behind himself and takes his shoes off.

I glance at my phone. I don't even remember hearing it buzz.

"Casey, are you even listening to me?"

I let out a breathy laugh. "No." I croak out, before I bury myself in my sheets.

"God what the hell did you do last night?"

I peak out of my sheets to see Asa standing above my bed, his eyes scanning the mess I made. After reading the letter I might have cried but I also got angry. I ended up making a mess of one of my lamps and didn't bother to clean it up.

A cold chill runs up my spine as Asa forcefully pulls my sheets off of me. I groan in protest but he pulls me up while ignoring my complaints.

"Go take a shower and collect yourself. You've been in a bad slump lately and it's not healthy." He says, pushing me towards the bathroom. "I don't want to see my best friend become depressed. Not if I can do anything about it."

"I'm not depressed Asa."

"You might be if you keep living like this. Go take a god damn shower already." He snaps.