Chapter 27

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No. No, there's no freaking way. But the way that the new group member snaps his head back to me begs to differ.

"Jackson, is that really you?" I grip his cheeks with one hand and I turn his face side to side. There's no doubting it, this is my brother.

"Mere," I don't know the tone of his voice. Maybe it's surprise, maybe it's confusion, maybe it's fondness. I don't really know. But that doesn't matter. I instantly throw my arms around his neck and he takes a second to respond, but when he does, he curls both of his arms around my tiny waist and squeezes me until I can't breathe.

Oh my God, it's my brother. I can't help the tears that start to flow from my eyes. They might be slightly alcohol induced, but nonetheless, they are flowing. "Jackson, you're back." Is all I can cry into his shoulder.

When I finally pull away from the hug, I keep my hands on his shoulders and look him straight in the eyes. "Oh my God." I cry/giggle.

He uses his thumb to wipe the tears rolling down my cheeks. He hasn't said anything other than my name and I start to get worried that he won't say anything else.

"I've missed you so much! How are you? Where have you been? Oh my God!" I rush questions and hug him again.

"Umm, would someone mind telling us what this whole love fest is about?" Luke speaks up.

I let go of Jackson again. "This is my brother! He's been gone since I was 15 and I haven't seen him or heard from him since." I am so overjoyed and still crying and kind of intoxicated and my words come out as one long slurred one.

"Oh, right, yea, I heard everything you just said." He sasses me.

Jackson still hasn't said anything, but he hasn't stopped looking at me. He twirls the ends of my long bangs once, then drops his hand to his side. "I have to go." He mumbles and drops eye contact with me. His voice and features looked pained as he turns his back to me and walks away.

What? No, no, no.

I chase after him as best I can, but he still makes it outside before I can catch up. "Jackson!" I yell to him. He is picking up his pace from a brisk walk to a job. The New York streets on a Friday night as packed as usual and it isn't long before he starts to disappear in the crowd.

I immediately take off one of my shoes and hobble a few steps towards him. The cross walk shows that people are not supposed to be crossing yet, but he runs across the street anyways. I take off my other shoe and really start running after him.

When I try to cross the same street, I nearly get run over by the car. I apologize profusely even though the driver can't hear me, and I continue running. "Jackson! You can't keep running from me forever!" I throw one of my chunky shoes at the back of his leg and it slows him down just enough for me to catch up.

"Fuck, Meredith! What the hell?!" he spits at me.

I am clearly taken back by his harsh remarks.

"I-I haven't seen you in almost eight years. I still haven't processed that you're here, but I just want to see you and talk to you. You my brother remember?"

"God." He whines and rubs the back of his leg.

"Sorry about that." I point to his leg. "I just... I have had a really rough week and I never expected to see you here. I thought you were gone forever... but even though you're here, you're not the same you. Something is different and I don't know what it is. I know we've never been best friends, but... but you just left me..." We are standing in the middle of the sidewalk blocking the way for most people and we keep getting nudged back and forth.

The light from the billboards outside lights up the sky like day and now I can really see his features more clearly. I see a scar under his right eye and pain in his eyes. "Jack, please talk to me." I plead as I try to smooth out his hair, but he slaps my hand away.

"I can't." he looks like he is going to cry as he stumbles back and turns to run away again.

Almost as quickly as he came, he is gone and I am alone again, standing in the middle of a sidewalk in New York, barefoot... and brotherless.

The hustle and bustle of New York City is irreverent to the new dagger that has just been thrown and twisted into my heart. I get pushed around until I my back hits into the light post. I stand there, frozen in place and eyes glazed over as the realization of my loss sets in again.

I thought for sure if our paths ever crossed again one day, he would hug me tight and twirl me around and say how much he missed me and regretted leaving me. We would talk for hours, catching up about the last decade. We would enjoy each other's company, maybe show him around where I work if he hasn't been here too long.

We would just be happy.

But no. That's not the case. And I'm foolish to think it ever would be. My life isn't some stupid fairy tale where everything works out in the end. NOTHING has worked out in the end for me. My whole world is filled with the same nonsense things to keep me going through the day.

A cup of coffee in the morning, a small bag of peanuts by noon. Material items that adorn my body every morn'. I paint my face and stain my hair hoping to be better than fair. I work in a place where there is a mold for beauty. There are short limits and lots of rejection. Picture after picture. Lie after lie.

Come home and wash away the day with a few leaves of lettuce and some vodka. Go to the same parties. See the same people. Do the same things every day until you can only tell the day of the week by how early people leave work.

Nobody to lean on. Nobody to trust. Nobody to call my own. Nobody to lust. No one to hold me and take away my pain. The only thing that will cleanse me is the rain. As it does now, the fresh rain drops mix with salty tears. My makeup smears.

There's no meaning to life. No end in sight. No one to keep me safe til morning light.

I am shuffled through the streets and guided by the hand of someone much larger than I. Though I talk, I know not what I say; I know it is much better this way. I cry and I cry as the last bits of me are swallowed into the growing dark pain in my chest. I have no more reason to be here, yet here I stay, swaddled in the arms of someone who prays that I can be whole and loving one day.

I know these arms, they've held me before when I was broken and far less troubled. She knows my whole story but still loves me so, she knows all my sorrow so well. Protecting, guiding, mother, child. She holds me and keeps me safe til the evening darkness has scattered.

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