Memories

Memories: Chapter 18

 “Aemilia,” Jason said, lightly shaking my shoulders. Pulling me from my reverie I realized, I shook my head, trying to get the image out my head.

            I coughed. “S-sorry. I just, you know, the memory . . .” I tried to motion what I meant with my hands, but Jason got it without even understanding.

            Clearing my throat, I stretched out my arms and legs, feeling weird from the way my feet had fallen asleep under me in my previous position. Jason didn’t move much, though his arm did come to wrap around my torso, as if he thought I needed something to support me. I smile shyly, keeping my gaze downward.

            “It’s alright, just go ahead. Whenever you need to,” He said, his eyes never coming off me.

            I nodded my head. “Well, like I was saying, my dad and Nate, my brother, had this really big fight one day, Dad telling him to pick up his act and Nate just barely resembling a person who was alive and healthy. It wasn’t like this was the first time they had fought, but still, it was getting worse. This one time they were really at it. Dad nearly sent him reeling across the room, and mom ended up slapping him and threatening him with divorce. But Nate was so out of it that he didn’t even care that out father had almost pummeled him to a pulp,” I shook my head, hating the memory of my dead-but-alive brother.

            “Finally, Nate agreed to go a doctor and see if there was anything actually wrong with him, after mother’s millionth request, and me asking him to do it. He said he was only doing it for me . . .” I smiled. “But, any—anyways, Nate asked to go in alone to have whatever results came before anyone else did. The doctor agreed, and though my father was reluctant, and my mother hesitant, they eventually agreed when I said I could go in with him. He didn’t mind since he knew I wouldn’t tell; my mother liked the idea because at least someone else knew.”

            This was where things got a little too heavy.

            “It turns out, that Nate was diagnosed with depression,” I said, staring down at my hands.  I paused.

            Jason rubbed my shoulder, and he didn’t need to speak for me to understand the gesture. I swallowed.

            “He made me promise, swear on my life, not to tell a single soul. I hated every moment of it, but he was my brother and I loved him, and I figured he knew best at the time. Everything I believed in and had confided in all revolved around my brother, and though it was excruciatingly hard to agree to, I knew I had to.” I gave a sad laugh and whispered again, more so to myself than Jason, “I just had to.”

            Maybe I was trying to convince myself, but I knew it wasn’t working. Deep inside, I still felt the tugging of guilt, gnawing viciously at my soul.

            Ignoring my attempt to wash away an old and inexcusable burden, I gripped tighter on to Jason’s hand. Jason would help me.

            “Things went down for awhile, since Nate told our parents that nothing was wrong with him. With that, he promised that things would go back to normal, and that he wouldn’t continue slacking off. And he stuck to his promise; his grades went up fast and with ease, he went out more with his friends, he gave more attention to what he needed to, and focused the same way as well. He was even smiling again, back to his old self. But see,” I said, shaking my head, growing a little angry again.

            “That was the thing. He—wasn’t himself. Not the way he used to be. His smile was so, so fake. His laugh wasn’t even . . . I mean, it was a laugh, but it just wasn’t his laugh. And no matter what, that distant look was always in his eyes. I don’t care what anyone said, not even him, I knew that there was still something wrong. But I didn’t push it, in fear that it would only make things worse.”