Events

Tommy

It was always the same. His gaze, the way his eyes would glimmer with something... something ambiguous. I would ask him, "Tom, what goes through that head of yours?" and he would just chuckle as if I would never be able to understand.

He was right. I never did.

It had been a Monday. A bad Monday. The rain was pouring quick and hard and the gloomy sky was souring everyone's mood. Typical Irish weather but that Monday it felt different. More damp and dark than usual.

I got a call. I could hear voices screaming in the background, sirens blaring and people shouting to be heard over the chaos. However, through it all Tom's rough breathing still stood out to me. In...out....In...out- soothing but terrifying.

"Tom...?" I had whispered. I heard his sharp intake when things on his side became silent. No one uttered a word.

"Tommy?!"

"I'm sorry." He hung up.

It wasn't until later that evening, maybe at about 8 pm, that I found out about Toms death. It hit me pretty hard. I wouldn't believe... I couldn't! Tom was my everything, my brother, my friend, the only person to ever know me. Just as I had known him.

Or at least I thought I did.

No one knows why Tom had done it. Why he had agreed to bomb the local bank. Some say he was blackmailed, that he had no choice. Some say he was just evil hiding behind a pretty face. I said nothing. I, the person who was closest to Tom, had actually turned out to be the furthest.

His funeral passed in a blur of tears, whispers and gossip. I didn't attend. After the burial was over I went straight back home to drown my sorrow in my only remaining friends, alcohol.

Soon after, days became months and months became years. Everyone moved on, the tragedy forgotten. I became nothing. Physically, I moved on. I went to work, I socialized, I paid the bills, I did everything that was expected of me. But mentally, I was still stuck in that time span.

Every night I would repeat the call in my head. Did I miss something important? Why would he call only to apologize? Could I have stopped him? WHY DIDN'T I STOP HIM?! I wrote out everything that happened the days before. Did he do anything unusual? Did he seem different in anyway? Was I blind to Toms call for help?

I knew I would never be able to move on. Was it guilt, maybe grief, I could never tell. Yet, as the world moved on and forgot that day ever happened, I remained stuck in a repeating cacophony of questions. Questions that will never be answered.

Tom. My Tom. My Tommy.

"Post for a Ms. Rouge?" a voice snaps me out of my thoughts, "Any Ms. Rouge?"

"Y-yes! Sorry... umm yes over here." I say as I stumble out of my seat to take the parcel off of him.

"Could you sign here please?"

I nod as I take the pen to sign his board. I take the parcel off of him and make my way to my cubicle. I smile at Luce when she nods at me as I pass her. I shake the parcel before I open it. A habit I practiced after the incident.

Slowly I tear open the small package and take out the first thing I see which is a folded note. I take out a smaller package from inside but decide to read the note before opening it.

My dearest Lis,

Or maybe Sandra? Perhaps Alessandra for formality.

You don't know me. I, however, know everything about you. Tom never did stop talking about you. I think he loved you, more than a friend that is, he wouldn't admit it though.

I want to meet up. I have so much to tell you. It took me a while to track you down. Tom made sure you remained as far out of his second life as possible. Backfired when he trusted me.

Meet you at Toms favorite getaway spot. 1 pm sharp, don't be late or don't be there at all.

I hope the gift isn't too personal. Tom said cherry's were your favorite.

I opened the smaller box.  A cherry necklace.

I started to cry.