Remembering Marixa

Downtown Asheville

Downtown Asheville | Chapter 4

Damon and his family, after listening to my brother complain about staying in an old creepy house, had convinced our mother to let us stay at a hotel.

Our mom and the neighbors seemed to get along really well, and they said that they would help us with the remodeling. After giving them a trillion thanks, we departed and set on to find a hotel. We found a cheap hotel with two beds, meaning that I had to share one with my mom. I didn’t complain though, at least I had a bed.

I kept thinking back at my brother. He was so freaking charismatic. He had an innocent face, he was smart, funny, and completely beautiful. Even I had to admit that. I would never tell him anything thing of that sort of course, but I did admire him.

He could convince people to do anything, (except our mom) and had whatever many girls he wanted. I don’t know how he did it. The guy was perfect. Sometimes, a girl would get in a fight with him, but he would hold her tight and whisper things in her ear. They would have a long, deep conversation, and in less than an hour, no matter what he’d done, he would be completely forgiven. I didn’t know if girls were just stupid, or if he was just fucking boss like that.

I wondered every day if boys were stupid too. I obviously didn’t want to go out with a girl, so I wondered where I could find myself a stupid cute boy, who would forgive me no matter what, like pretty girls did to Gabe. There was no way though. Believe me, I had tried.

I wasn’t pretty or smart. I couldn’t smile and make people go to their knees like Gabe did. I wasn’t like my mom either. The moment I opened my mouth I didn’t capture people with my voice, I didn’t trap them and make them want to listen.

I guess I was just like my missing father.

I lay there in the bed next to my mom. I listened to my brother’s snores and though. I thought about Gabe, his irresistible smile and positive attitude. He always knew the right things to say. Me? I was outspoken and loud. I was an optimistic pessimist, and I was plenty annoying and random. I tried to chance, be like my brother and act like him, but it was impossible. The more I tried the more I failed. I was the odd one out of this small, broken family. I couldn’t even feel if I got hurt. Most people would think it was amazing, but it’s not. I could be dying, right not in this very moment. I would have no idea. I could be internally bleeding, this could very much be my very last breath.

I would lie if I said I didn’t take advantage of it though. I got into fight with anyone who looked at me wrong. Especially when I was little. Then, afterwards, I would always have to go and check myself all over.

Just like my mom taught me.

Who taught Gabe to be so charismatic?

No one.

I remembered my anger. I had anger problems. I knew I did. I wished so many things for my brother. I said them all out of anger, I truly didn’t mean them when I said them, but I was sure that at that time I made it seem horrible. I hope you go to hell. I hope your kids hate you. I hope you break your hand with that pencil. I know that it probably won’t happen, but I wish so that hard, that it probably will.

He was a tattle tale, which is made me more mad. It made me madder that my words actually hurt him, I could see it. He would go back to his drawings and shut up. He wouldn’t forgive me. And then I would feel guilty. And I would pray to God that all of those things didn’t happen. And then I was scared that I wasn’t praying hard enough.

I don’t think I ever really apologized.

~~~

Morning came with my brother singing crazily.