Surviving the Andersen Brothers

In My Dreams

I lay in my bed, staring up at the canopy, Charlotte sitting at the foot of the bed, and Zach leaning against the post of my bed at my feet. I just got finished telling them about what Caleb said to me the night before. They were silent; there was nothing to say really. I was already starting to get over it though. It wasn’t a big deal. Not like I was ever left behind or anything.

            “I hate to say it but I told you so,” said Charlotte.

            Zach glared at her. “That isn’t very nice, you know. How would you feel in the same situation?” Zach asked.

            “I would never be in this situation because I don’t like any of you like that! I learned a long time ago that you all are nothing but disappointment!” Charlotte spat.

            I sat up before their fight got any worse. This was the first time Charlotte ever shot back so viciously at anything Zach said. I expected such things from Zach, he always said what he thought, regardless of Charlotte’s presence or not, it was entirely new for Charlotte to voice these things. She used to look the other way… literally.

            “Charlotte is an advanced race of woman,” I said with a smile, making it obvious that I was being facetious. “She has no use for those primitive emotions such as affection and love.”

            Charlotte cracked a smile and I knew the storm was over. “She is right, you know,” Charlotte said, standing from the bed and walking over to the window. “Love is for the lesser species. I am highly evolved.”  She let out a giggle.

            Zach rolled his eyes, not so ready to let the bite slide. “What are you going to do now? Run in to the arms of the man you ‘belong’ with?” Zach wondered.

            I laid back down feeling the effects of the sandman who, apparently, just recently visited me. My eyes felt heavy. I rolled my head to look at the time. It was already ten-o’clock at night. Where had the day gone?

            I suddenly remembered that Zach had asked me a question that I had yet to respond to.

            “No,” I said as defiantly as I could in my very sleepy state. “I refuse to fall for Vincent’s charms.”

            If either of them said anything in response to me, I did not hear it for I was fast asleep.

* * *

I waved farewell to my parents as they pulled out of the drive. It was their Saturday date night, something they did every weekend since I could remember.

            “Have fun,” I shouted after them. “Drive safe!”

            They pulled out of the drive, waving and blowing kisses. I did not mind being left home alone. At this stage in my life, I almost welcomed the idea. How many kids got to be in total solitude at the age of fifteen? Wouldn’t most kids my age dare throwing a party on a night their parents were out? Not me. I was going to snuggle up in my bed with a nice book—no interruptions.

            I watched their headlights fade from view and I sighed dreamily. My parents were so in love.

            My mind quickly jumped from waving goodbye to me standing over a closed casket at a funeral, tears streaming down my face. My mother was nowhere to be found. I felt so alone. I knew—without truly knowing—that my father’s remains filled the inside of the casket. He died. The accident was too horrific for the body to be shown. I didn’t want to see it anyway. I didn’t want my last image of my father being of him cold and lifeless. Dead.