Nine Minutes to Midnight

midnight.

What everyone knows is no one took Sam's death worse than Austin. They say he screamed at the funeral and had to be carried out by his friends. They say Austin knelt in the dirt at the grave for days.

What I know is that all of that is true, plus so much more. I know what when Austin saw the text message, his eyes went wide. The message didn't say anything about the gunshots or the shooter. It didn't say anything that would suggest something wrong, but the words "I love you," told him something was wrong. He was about to call, but before he could press the button, a call from his mother came in. Austin answered quickly, and I could see the panic in his eyes. His mother asked him if he had heard from Sam, and he told her about the message. That was when she said that on the news, they were talking about a shooter at Sam's high school.

Austin was inconsolable and began rambling that he needed to get home now. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale. He ran to his room- we were in his dorm apartment- and began shoving things into his backpack. He tripped as he tried to find his car keys, and that's when I said I would be driving him.

I sped the entire car ride back to the beach town where we had grown up, where a shooter was killing students in a high school. By the time Austin and I got there, the shots had ended. Instead, a dark cloud of death had entered and had taken the life from Sam.

Everyone thought Austin wouldn't survive after his little brother's death. He stopped eating. He stopped sleeping. He stopped talking. He just laid on Sam's bed and looked out the window, a window that faced the sea. Before the body was cremated, Austin sat next to it and stared at the shell that used to be his brother, a body that looked just like him. During the funeral, his entire body shook and shivered. His parents clutched him like he was a lifeline, but he couldn't help them any more than he could help himself.

After a week in the beach town, I needed to go back. I couldn't stay in the town anymore, where everything was shrouded in black. I wanted Austin to come back with me, to try and get away with everything. But the blank stare at the old glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on the ceiling remained, and I went back to college alone.

When the semester ended and I went back to that town, it was clear some recovery had started. People talked to each other when they passed on the streets, instead of staring down at the ground with nervous frowns etched onto their faces. I could see less black on their clothes. I felt like I was a nature explorer, witnessing an entirely different species.

I found Austin in the same place where I had last seen him. This time, at least, he looked alive. The late spring air blew warm through the window of his bedroom.

"I missed you," I said, leaning in the doorway.

He gave me a brief smile. "I missed you too."

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at the ceiling. "Do you want the answer I told my therapist, or the truth?"

"You've been seeing a therapist?"

Austin nodded. "Supposedly, it helps."

"I'd like the truth, if you don't mind."

So he had me sit down, and he told me everything I didn't already know. When he had finished talking, we stayed there for a long time. The two of us watched the sun set on the horizon. The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling tried their best to give a faint, pathetic green glow.

Eventually, I stood and stretched. "Come on," I said, "let's go."

"Go where?" he asked.

We got into the car and made our way to the ocean. When we got to the beach, we stepped over the rope fence and walked to the water. I stayed on the sand, but Austin walked into the water. He watched the dark waves roll over his bare feet. He brought his hands up to his neck and pulled something away. It was the shark tooth necklace Sam had always worn. Austin held it up for a minute, just looking at the outline in the moonlight. Then the string slipped through his fingers and the necklace fell into the waves. For a second, I thought he would try searching for it, but he just continued to stare ahead into the sea. It seemed fitting, when I finally understood. Austin was putting the necklace back where it belonged, where it had come from.

For Greg.