honey-eli moskowitz

01

tw: mention of suicide

it was a wave of a hand to my face that snapped me away from the comfort of my music that was blasting in my ears.

"miss?" Dorothy spoke, i looked up to see her give me a worried look, i internally cringed. how long has she been standing there?

"oh sorry, yes Dorothy"

"your daily pills" she motioned to the cup of pills and the bottled water on the nightstand.

"oh, yes thank you" Dorothy only nodded but I could see she had something she was trying to say.

"is everything alright?" i asked, and she looked conflicted

"of course miss its just-"

i smiled at her before I took away the headphones off from around my head.

"you would think after all the years we spent together, you would stop calling me miss"

"certainly, but y-your father insisted that I did-" she began but I cut her off

"i would rather not discuss my dad" I said plainly, I gave her a weak smile. I hope I didn't come off rude.

"I'm afraid the news I have involves him and your mother" and just like that, I stop smiling. I could see the hesitant look on her face.

"I tried to talk your parents down b-but your father is talking about removing your brothers belonging out his room, he's is getting very persistent-"

"no" I said a little too quick

"miss-"

"no one is touching his room, they can't do that" I looked up to see the affliction on her face. I was in this same position a week ago. And if I have to fight them over it again, I will.

"he thinks you are too distracted miss Harlow, that it isn't good you spend time in there, you promised you would be back to school, he's already-"

"then I will go back, tell them I will go back?!" I was now desperate

Dorothy looked pained. I knew she didn't want this anymore than I do. She wasn't just a nanny to us, she was like a mother. She practically raised cole, and I knew she wasn't ready to let go either.

"I'll see what I can do" was all she said, and I let out a breath of relief. she always knew how to resolve a situation involving my parents. Im sure them hearing me wanting to go back to school, will take their attention away from his room.

"thank you" I said quietly and Dorothy was already out the door.

•

i stared at the gold colored doorknob until I finally opened the door and went inside.

I've only been in his room a couple of times, but every time I came in, it was a painful reminder.

his room walls the same chipped black, with many pictures he's painted hung on his wall. I looked over. at his desk and admired the stack of paintings that he choose not to hang up.

His bed was made, untouched. His room was clean, cleaner than he kept in his entire life. I remember making a joke about him finally cleaning his room, and him laughing. I should of known.

I looked at his bookshelf's, his table, everything was clean, besides the candy wrappers still in his desk drawer.

I made sure not to move anything, touch anything and when I did, I did my best to put it back how it was.

I found myself sitting on his bed, taking in his room like I would never see it again. I know it wasn't healthy, but I don't think I could ever move on from it.

the memories of that day always found its way to suffocate my headspace daily.

I would have never guessed what was to come that day. Maybe because I always dumped my problems that I never stopped to think about his. I never knew his suffering. I should of been a better sister.

I never got an explanation, never knew his reasonings. And I feel like I never will.

I felt the same burning sensation in my throat and I can't hold in my sobs any longer

I don't think I will ever be ok again.