Bookmark Memories

Chapter 2

The room was dim, making her almost wonder if her brother had gone out without acknowledging it. He had a habit of doing that, and now that he was 24, his parents didn't seem to care. She wondered if they should. Often he came home late at night, looking wasted as hell. Sometimes she even thought she would wake up to a call of her brother's decease. Yet he always showed up.

She didn't know how he did it but there he was, sleeping on his bed, just like he was when she turned the light on. He groaned and she quickly apologized, turning it off.

"What're you doing here?" he snarled. "Mom!"

She debated telling him their mom had gone out. "I just wanted to apologize." She cut to the chase, leaning against the wall of his room. She felt like an intruder but had to make up with her brother. After all, all they had was each other after their parents died: her, Trevan, and Zethus.

He covered his ears with his pillow, giving the impression he didn't want to be bothered. But she wouldn't relent, her feet stayed firm to the ground. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me–god, can you not talk like that!"

She had an urge to toy with his statement, but instead, her voice got mellow. "What's up with you, Trevan?" The room got quiet and with his sister gawking over him, Trevan tried his best to keep himself from crying. He'd hoped she would leave, but as time passed, her presence could still be felt.

He waited for his tears to dry before chastising his sister with all the anger he had inside of him. He didn't take into account how red his eyes were, though, and when she noticed, May's face suddenly grew concerned.

"Trevan–"

He tried his best to conceal his face as he ushered May out of his room. "Leave me the hell alone!" He slammed the door in her face, returning to lie on his bed until he realized there was no lock. His parents had long denied him access to his privacy after he didn't leave the door open several times.

But May didn't pry him again.

He wondered if he had hurt her. But every time the thought popped up, he would conclude with the same reason: she was a therapist, she probably dealt with shit like this every day. It didn't mean she didn't have feelings, but dead people didn't have feelings: his neighbor didn't get to feel the love he had for her, and that wasn't fair. So he convinced himself he shouldn't feel bad for reprimanding his sister, and maybe she did deserve it.

Maybe she got what she was asking for.

After all, everyone needs a reality check once in a while. May needed to know that not everyone was going to act the same way as her patients. And if he had to be the person to do it, so be it. It's not like May was the first person Trevan had hurt. But it wasn't like he was a bad person either, bad people just change you, he convinced himself. So when he saw May slumped on the couch in the family room he didn't hesitate to look the other way. He figured it was another act of hers–just to get attention.

He fixed himself a glass of milk and was negotiating on getting a snack when she appeared behind the pantry door, petrifying him. He cursed the hell out of her, but she didn't care. Her face was pale, her eyes were sore. In fact, it seemed like everything was pointless to her. "Are you okay?" he found himself asking.

She completely ignored his question, directing to the question that was on her mind the whole time she was on the couch: "Can I tell you something?"

He looked startled, stumbling back. He struggled for words. Truth be told, he didn't know how to answer that question. The last time someone asked him that was in college and it was through email, so he could smoothly dodge it. But this was happening in person, with his sister, right now. So he resorted to humor–the one thing that he could always rely on to escape a situation.

"Why are you asking that so seriously?" He faked a chuckle, but May didn't catch his drift. Her face was firm, fixed on something in the back of the pantry.

"What's wrong with talking in a serious tone?" she deadpanned and he stared frozen at his sister for a moment. She wouldn't stop looking at the food item in the pantry, but in the corner of her eye, she sensed fear in her brother's eyes.

"Would you stop? You're freaking me out, May!"

She made eye contact with her brother and he jumped in fear, cursing at her. "What? I stopped," she defended herself.

He looked enraged, about to chastise his sister again, but he sighed, diverting his attention back to the pantry. "Just... leave me the fuck alone."

"Okay. But can I tell you something?"

He sighed annoyed at his sister's persistence. "Seriously? What the fuck do you want?"

"You know you can always tell me whatever's on your mind... right?" Her eyes fixated on him as if she was trying to prompt him to fess up. The need to know what her brother kept hidden was killing her, but all he did was give her a disgusted face.

"Why? So you can suggest a therapist for me?" He looked her dead in the eye, but she refused to make eye contact. He snorted. "That's what I thought."

"I just wanted to know..." She fumbled for words, caught red-handed. It wasn't like she wasn't going to suggest a therapist, she was just trying to help her brother. She hadn't seen him depressed before—it was concerning. "I just wanted to help," she confessed on the verge of tears. Her willpower failed her and tears began to stream down her face while her brother looked at her blankly.

He couldn't even feel sorry for his sister, he was too busy restraining the tears he had built up inside of him as he thought about his neighbor and how if she were still here, he would go over to her house and kiss her all over the face.

It wasn't fair that she had to go through all that pain alone. So when his sister was at her rock bottom, he decided to do the same thing: he quietly left May in the kitchen, sulking in her pity.

It wasn't fair that his neighbor had to suffer alone, so to make it fair, he figured he should make someone feel that same way. And that, unfortunately, or fortunately, was May.