The Changes In Our Moments

•chapter 20•

I wake up in a dark area, which happens to be my large room.
I look around at all the sleeping faces, one is missing which is Camden.
I walk out into the kitchen to see a tired and annoyed Camden.
"Sorry, just getting some water." I move into the room, guessing I startled him by his jump.
"It's fine,"
He shakes his head, "just writing. I didn't want to write something serious about your brother so i chose to-" he stops as I interrupt him, "I don't need the whole story." I pause to take a sip as the water splashes and swirls down my throat, like a tornado. "No offense."
He crosses his mouth, "none taken."
I nod, "good. I'm just preparing for the worst day to come." I nod and roll my eyes.
He shakes his head, "hey, this won't be the worst day. " he looks like he is finished but then he continues, "people are going to be hovering all over you; strangers too. As if they are terrified to leave you alone, but when you are alone and you come to realization by yourself. That's when it's going to hurt, when you need them most to talk to." He sucks in a breath and looks back in front of him, "But you don't have them."
I nod, "thanks for the advice."
He nods, "no problem."
On my way to my room, i pass it; my brothers room.
It still carries his smell, I guess they brought back everything. It's all placed back together, as if I never touched it.
I look around, placing my fingers around his counter and his collection of baseball caps and cologne.
I look around his TV stand which holds his books on one shelf with his movies on the other.
We used to do races on who could read the book the fastest, and watch movies with my mom as a little family with potato chips, fries and ice cream.
I let a tear fall for that memory,
I touch his favorite t-shirt, I bought it for him and he always wore it, as a sign that he will always support and love me as his butthole of a sister. I laugh at that, I slide it over my shirt feeling the warmth of him surround me.
I look at a picture of my mom, him, and I, collapsing into tears.
I stare at how happy we were,
It's hard to think, that it took 11 months, and only one of those people are still alive, barely.
I look at his comforter and snuggle in it, resting my head on his pillow, letting my hair down to my waist, and watching as my feet are tickled again.
I switch on the tv, falling asleep to the comfort of my brother and a movie that I slip in that we always watched as kids.
I laugh and cry at all his favorite parts, which is basically the whole movie.
I fall asleep, this time no longer needing a needle, because I have the comfort of an angel, which is held by my brother.