After finding his brother's lifeless body hanging from a stairwell, a college student struggles to cope with the trauma.
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THE SHEETS WERE DAMP with sweat when Diego awoke. Darkness swallowed his vision as he sat up, rubbing vigorously at his sleep filled eyes. It had been three months since Isaac's passing, yet his image never left Diego's conscience. Nightmares were something he had the least preparation for, after finding his brother's lifeless body hanging from the top of his step father's staircase.
Ever since then, he felt somewhat responsible for what happened. The chubby, Hispanic boy was never popular in any of his classes. His stepfather was first to express his disliking towards him, deeming him as a troublemaker and "waste of space". Isaac had expressed how sad it made him, being rejected by so many people, but Diego never listened.
He knew it was regret that caused him to dream of his brother so much. He could never apologize for the terrible things he said to him or for ignoring him when he needed someone to talk to. Isaac died, thinking Diego would move on quickly and eventually forget about him.
Diego's clammy fingers pulled at the sticky, black curls atop his head. His heart thumped heavily inside his chest, causing his ears to pulse and his cheeks to flush. If it were not for his fear of waking others up, he would have allowed himself to cry in that moment.
Alas, that fear heightened when a faint flash of light swept across the crinkled bedsheets.
"Diego?" A soft, tiresome voice whispered from behind him.
It was his girlfriend, Gabriella, waving the bright screen of her cellphone around the dark bedroom. Though she left him before Isaac's passing, she quickly took him back after learning about the incident. Even three months later, he still believed she was dating him out of pity.
Reluctantly, Diego turned his head in her direction. Her honey colored hair hung down her face in messy, unbrushed waves as she struggled to sit up from a deep slumber. There was a small silence as she itched at her squinted eyes, trying her hardest to focus on her cellphone's screen long enough to turn the brightness down. A baggy, gray hoodie from his closet fit comfortably on her torso.
"It's five o'clock in the morning." She continued delicately, "Are you okay?"
"No." was the short answer, but he knew it would only lead into more questions, like, "What's wrong?" and "How can I help?"
He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, then let out a loud exhale through his dry, chapped lips. Breathe, breathe, breathe; a simple command he struggled to remember.
"I'm okay," He returned the whisper hoarsely with dishonesty. "Sorry I woke you up. I've just had a hard time sleeping, that's all."
"I don't mind." Gabriella's arm reached across the bed, hand patting against the damp sheets.
"Wait," She paused briefly. "You're lying. Is this sweat?"
"What do you think?" Diego retorted defensively, bushy eyebrows furrowing as he spoke. "There's three blankets on the bed, and I'm hot natured."
