Angie
Five days.
That’s how long it’s been since my brother drove head-on into the back of an eighteen-wheeler—taking not only his life, but his best friend’s life as well. Destroying two families in the process.
Five days.
That’s the last time normal has existed in my vocabulary. And my life? Well, that will never be normal again.
I sit at the foot of the stairs and wait for my parents to come out of their bedroom. The state of denial we’ve allbeen living in has become our existence. How do people deal? Do people heal from a loss like this? My parents’ bedroom door opens and I watch, with eyes sore from crying, as they walk toward the foyer and meet my gaze. Sometimes I wonder what I am to them. They haven’t treated me like their little girl, but more like an extra kid who didn’t have the same hopes and dreams like her brother.
“Ready, Angela?”
I grit my teeth as blood whooshes through my ears and nod. Neither of them have called me Angela since the day I was born. Even though it’s my birth name, they’ve always settled on calling me Angie. And I wonder if that’s how they’ll behave around me. I follow them out the front door and to the waiting hearse. I’m not sure why we need this when it’s just the three of us. I never met my grandparents on either side and both of my parents were only children. So I always wondered why they had two kids when all they knew was life as an only child.
Sitting in the church is a blur, and the next thing I know, we’re at the burial site. My forehead scrunches when Kamryn—my brother’s girlfriend?Ex?I lost track of the amount of times they broke up and got back together—stands up at the makeshift podium. Her speech sends a wave of melancholy over the crowd. It smooths out the bullshit the minister was giving, so for that, I give her props. But I also learn things about my brother that I probably never would have, and through her attempt to hold back her tears, I realized just how much Kamryn loved my brother. Did I think they were endgame? No. And it’s not that I don’t adore Kamryn like a sister I never had, but she was way too good for my brother.
My eyes follow her as she walks past us back to her seat.And as they begin to lower my brother into the ground, it hits me that this is the last time we’ll be on this side of the world together. That realization smacks into me like the crescendo of a big piano finale and the emotions take my breath away. I slap my hand over my mouth to stop the sob from reaching anyone’s ears. I excuse myself from where I’m sitting and leave the tent. Soon, others follow, and I watch with tears falling as people offer condolences to my parents, but commotion on the other end pulls my attention that way. Someone is telling Kamryn off, maybe one of Liam’s teammates. He certainly fits the bill, and when he leaves, I watch as she crumbles.
I’d say I’m glad to see her feeling as much pain as I am, but truthfully, besides James, she’s likely the last person to have seen my brother before he made a decision to end it. And that’s not a burden I’d wish on anyone.
1
BRANDON
TWO YEARS LATER
“Is it sent?” one of my team members asks.
We’ve been working on a prototype for a new video game for the past six years. And today, we are finally able to send it off for beta testing. It was my first assignment when I started here a decade ago and something I always dreamed of creating. But the hiccups to get to this stage of development were not easy.
I’m grateful my team picked up a lot of the slack when I lost my brother and needed to take time away from work. Thankfully, Jerry, let me take more than enough time to grieve and I slowly integrated back to the world of video games. But I underestimated how coming to the office could still be a challenge most days as this is where the news hit. I’m lucky to have incredible co-workers, who did what they could by moving me out of the office where I got the phone call from my mom and into a new one before I returned from my extended leave. It’s the little things that reaffirm my passion for this job and the people I work with.
While in college, I interned here at North Autumn Productions (N.A.P.) over the summer and once I graduatedI couldn’t see myself working anywhere else. I never dreamed that I could turn something my brother and I loved playing into a career. Video games were what all my brothers and I did. Well, mainly James and I since our other brothers were too young to play at the time. When James died, Jerry sat me down after I returned full-time and asked what my plan was. Would I stay or would I go? One of my biggest connections with James, besides our bloodline, was through video games. We may have been four years apart, but he was still one of my best friends and losing him shook up my life.
Pinching my thigh, I wait for the circle to stop spinning and theding!of the message being sent fills my office. “It’s sent.”
“Hell, yes,” Carter, one of my best friends from college, praises while the other two members of our team, Hollis and Prescott, high-five each other. “This calls for drinks.”
I narrow my eyes at him and he knowingly avoids me with a smirk. I hate going out. Just the thought of being around other people and stepping in something questionable is an automatic deterrent. I like following my Monday through Friday schedule, and I purposefully make sure it leaves no room for a TapHouse. And the mere thought of deviating from my curated schedule gives me the heebie jeebies.
“One drink,” I give in when his stare starts to burn a hole in my face.
Carter smacks my desk and stands up from his chair. “Good enough for me, buddy. Blue Pint Outpost in say, thirty minutes?” The other two guys stand and head out as well. “That should giveyouenough time to tie up any loose ends before you leave. And by leave I mean, meet-us-at-the-elevator-to-head-to-the-TapHouse, leave not, slip-out-of-the-emergency-exit-and-go-home, leave.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” I tell him and toss a stress ball at him.
Carter tosses the ball back to me and heads back to his office with a chuckle leaving my office quiet again. I’m not sure when I started preferring solitude over a room full of people. You’d think I would crave the noise since I now live alone, but maybe the change stems from getting a phone call that your brother died and realizing your circle was in fact penetrable, so that unconsciously forced you to follow a routine that left very little room for other people. Surely, that has to be it.A shrink would have a field day with me, I think sarcastically to myself.Would that be considered OCD?I started sticking to a routine soon after James passed away. I scoff to myself,passed away. Like he was taken from us due to a disease and not because his best friend drove his truck into the back of an eighteen wheeler because he was distraught over his life falling apart. Ugh. I am not a violent person, but if Liam was still alive, I’d beat him to a bloody pulp.
I turn my chair to face the city. It’s been a hard two years. I still remember the slow walk into the house after my co-workers dropped me off. The Hayes residence could have given libraries a run for their money with how quiet it was. I’ve done everything in my power to avoid going back to that day, but sometimes that day flashes in my mind like a power surge. I just remember feeling as if someone stuck me in a freezer and even though I’m out, I still have yet to defrost. It’s been two years and I wonder if I’ll ever feel warmth again. As we get further from the day that changed everything, some days are easier than most to pretend like we’re all still here. But then reality sets in just from scrolling through myphone and the crushing realization that my brother isn’t here to celebrate milestones like this, settles in my stomach like a fifty-pound bowling ball.
“Time’s up, team!” I hear shouted from the hall.
Grateful for Carter’s announcement, I turn back to my desk, shut down my computer for the weekend, and toss my glasses on my desk. I have another pair at home to wear when I get the itch to code, which is all the time. It keeps my mind busy and with nothing else outside of work, I need that. I grab my phone and keys, shutting the light off in my office and meet up with the guys at the elevator.
Summer in Philadelphia is something one should truly experience for themselves. Especially Fridays in the business district as we, along with every other corporate American, flood out onto the crowded sidewalk after leaving the confines of our desks and pushing out from the air-conditioned lobby.
I walk a step behind the group as they all chatter about. I’m not a closed-off guy or hard to talk to, but I don’t feel like I can relate to a lot of them who look forward to going out every weekend and getting into trouble or hooking up with girls or guys in a TapHouse. I’m not even thirty-two and feel like I’ve lived far past my age.
