///// I played with the remote as I watched the television. Another repeat of NCIS. Oh joy. I heard panting coming from up stairs and slowly stood up. I tip toed to the television to turn it off. I looked around to see where my phone was. Didn't matter. It's not like I had any one to text or call. I had friends, yes. But no one even close enough to consider as a best friend or anything. Sure I had a boyfriend, but I had already been planning on breaking up wih him the next day. I'm so nice, right?
///// I saw the remote and realized I could have been lazy and just turned off the television from there. I sighed and went to the kitchen. I went straight to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. After opening and taking a small sip I made the horrible trip to my room. I had to pass his room. That dreadful room where I had tried to stay away from for as long as possible before guilt rose through me and had me practically running from the room.
///// I was at the bottom of the landing and could see my mother running into his room. Fear and knowledge struck me. This was it. It was going to happen tonight. I slowly made my way into my own room. I had to use the restroom, but there was no way I was going to go into that bathroom. The bathroom connected both of our rooms. If I went in there I'd hear the panting and groans even more.
//// Deciding that me having to relieve myself wasn't that important I crawled into bed. I pulled the covers above my head and sat against the wall with my breathing heavy. The air coming out of my mouth made the small area in front of my face(stop under the blanket) really hot. I heard my mom crying. Which caused my father to wake up and rush into the room as well. At this point I took the covers off of my head and looked out. I cursed under my breath as I realized I had left my bedroom door wide open. I could go to close it without making a noise. I didn't want my parents to know I was awake for this.
///// I started to softly sob. But those sobs eventually turned into heavy crying and gasping. My dad came into the room and looked at me.
///// "How much time?" I quietly asked, my voice hoarse and cracking.
///// "Not long now," he had whispered. That had only made me cry harder. I never cried in from of my father. Never. I was a Daddy's Girl. Always trying to keep him happy. Always trying to make him laugh. Making sure I did well enough in school to go to the college he wanted and wished for me to attend. But here I was. Bawling my eyes out and he just stared at me. I laid down in bed and he left soon after. I managed to control my breathing and wipe away the tears. I took a deal breath and stood up.
//// "I can do this. I can do this." I had to. I had to see him before it happened. Before more tears stained my face. Before my family falls even more apart.
///// I walked out of my room, my bubble. I made the too small walk to his room. There they were. Mom and dad hugging and him just lying there. His eyes rolling around, his mouth open. I could see his horribly disgusting teeth. He couldn't have brushed them. He was arching his legs up. Causing me to see his genitalia. I quickly looked away and slid over to my parents. They didn't seem to hear or sense my presence. I continued to stare at him on the bed. He was helpless. I was helpless. No one could do anything at this point.
///// After what seemed like hours of jet staring at him while he tried to stare back, my dad ushered me out of the room.
///// "Go downstairs and wait for Michelle. Take a jacket and go outside and wait. She's ten minutes away." I did as he asked. An ambulance pulled up shortly after sitting myself on the small wall. That small wall separated my house from the neighbors. The paramedics came rushing up and asked me if they had the right house. I looked up and only nodded. They asked where and I pointed upward towards the second story. They rushed in and I stayed on the wall. Neighbors had come outside. They had to of heard the siren. Some looked with confusion. The few who knew what was happening looked with pity.
///// I hate pity. I hate having people look at you like they know what you're going through. It makes me sick to my stomach. No one here knew what I was going through. No one here knew what HE was going through.
///// One brave neighbor came up to me and tried to ask what was happening.
///// "Hun, is everything okay?"
///// "If everything was fucking okay there wouldn't be a fucking ambulance! Now would there?" I know I had over reacted the second he had taken a step back and looked at me with horror. I hadn't meant to snap at him. He was only asking what was going on. But at that point anger had swept into me.
///// The man upstairs had done little wrong in this world. He smoked cigarettes, sure, but never anything completely lethal. Be didn't do heroine, or cocaine, or drink exesively. He would have given you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it more than himself. But no! This was happening to HIM! of all the horrible, indecent, son of a bitch people, it had to have happened to the most generous one in this god forsaken city.
///// My aunt pulled up ten minutes later than my dad had predicted.
///// "Oh, Leah." She pulled me into an embrace but I didn't hug back. I was numb to everything now. Whether it was because I was depressed or because it was eleven at night in March, I'll never know. But I know my aunt noticed. She looked me over and rushed me into the living room. "Which blankets and pillows you want?" I said nothing still. "Don't move. I'll be right back." She ran up the stairs and I heard her sobs. Not a single tear fell out of my eyes anymore. I sat staring at the carpet. I was trying to wake up from this nightmare.
///// She came running back down with everything from my bed in her hands. I took the comforter and rolled myself in it. Michelle sat down and stayed absolutely still. My mom came down about an hour later and immediately cried into her sister's shoulder. That was the scene in the living room for two hours.
///// My dad came downstairs and sat next to my mom. "He's not in pain anymore." All of my pent up anger and depression was pushed through my eyes. Tears fell down. I seemed to be the only one to understand. After my mom and aunt staring at each other and at me, it clicked. My mother burst into more tears while my dad worked on a paper. I had assumed his death certificate papers.
////// My brother died March 4, 2010. It's been almost 2 years since he died that night. I cry about it almost once a week. Tonight just happened to be the night I started to cry after two weeks of nothing. No traitorous tears. No violent outbursts. But tonight I wrote about that night. And unlike some who say writing helps them, doing this just made me cry harder.
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