Point Blank

XIX

I wake up to my phone ringing. I stretch out in bed, my eyes being greeted with the sight of posters of film stars my teenage self considered hot. 

My phone rings again, before getting abruptly cut off. I pick it up from my nightstand. 

Ten missed calls from Dad.

God. He is going to kill me for leaving behind a barely conscious and bloody Tristan, and ditching the party.

I call him back. My mind concocts up different scenarios: maybe Tristan hit his head real hard and has no idea who he is, maybe he decided to file a restraining order against Archer, maybe he decided he wanted revenge and was currently underneath my bed, waiting with a knife.

I fidget on the mattress. The call connects.

'Dad. Archer really didn't mean to - '

'Kaitie. It's Jeremy.'

Something settles in the pit of my stomach. I feel really, really uneasy. Whatever it is, it is not going to be good. 

'There's been an accident.'

My world comes crashing down again. I feel like someone just pulled the carpet from underneath my feet.

I am yelling for Archer to start the car, and I am flying down the stairs, all at the same time. 

Archer looks alert, his fingers expertly gunning up the car as he races against the clock to get me to the hospital. He reverses the car out of the garage, the tires squeaking on the sand, and I throw myself in, my fingers fumbling with the seat belt. 

'It's probably just a small hit, Kay. Nothing to be afraid of.' But he sounds uncertain. 

And that kills me.

Archer gets me to the hospital in record time. We slam the doors shut and we are rushing into the ER, me still in my pajamas. Archer's shirt buttons are in the wrong button holes and his eyes are bloodshot, but he rushes forward and bangs his fist onto the receptionist's counter.

'Jeremy McBarrow. Car accident.'

The nurse gives him directions, but I can't seem to process anything. Every thing is sluggish and in slow motion. My parents are here, already: Dad is leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, and mom is crying onto her palm, her head resting on her boyfriend's shoulder.

I can't lose Jeremy. I can't. I can't. 

I pull away from Archer and walk to my father.

'Dad?'

Dad takes a look at me, and his chin quivers. My world spins. 

'He's lost a lot of blood, Kaitie.'

I shake. My fingers tremble. Not Jeremy, not Jeremy. 

Jeremy is my rock. My elder brother, who annoys me to no end. He meant everything to me, and I couldn't bear to think of a world without him.

It is then that I hear them, the doctors. 'Calling time of death, 7:27 am.'

And then I'm falling, falling, falling. Everything is black and I can't seem to see. I feel the suffocated, like my head was forced underwater, and everything fades away.

I wake up covered in sweat, shivering beyond my control, in the bedroom that I grew up in. Posters of film stars adorn the ceiling.

I let out a breath and it chokes me. 

Jeremy. 

Tears threaten to spill out of my eyes. My throat constricts, and I see double. My head spins. 

No. No. No. No. No.

And then, my phone rings.

/*\*/*\

Here lies Jeremy Graham McBarrow. 

1990 - 2019

Loving son, protective brother. 

You shall live forever, within us.

Tears flow freely over my cheeks as I place white roses on the gravestone. Jeremy loved white roses. 

'Hey.' Archer wraps an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder. 

I lean onto him. Jeremy never lived his life the way he wanted. He was caught in the loop of having to satisfy my parents, just because he was the first born. He gave up his passions, just so that he could focus on becoming the heir. He was a great artist, and had an eye for photography. 

He was the best brother anyone could ask for. In spite of him not being able to pursue his dreams, he made sure I could achieve mine. He sacrificed so much for our family, and in the end, we betrayed him. 

I glance at my mother, talking to someone in hushed tones. She hadn't even cried since she left the hospital. She had remained impassive and stoic, even when I let out screams of anguish and Archer had to restrain me. I wonder if she was grieving beneath the mask she put on. 

My mother never approved of Jeremy. She was a hard person to impress and Jeremy always went out of his way to earn her stamp of approval. She was never satisfied until he wore suits she wanted him to wear and dated girls she wanted him to date. That was all he was to her, a toy she could control. Jeremy, however had broken free towards the end. He was doing whatever he wanted to do - getting drunk, sleeping around.

Drunk driving. The divorce did take a toll on him, and he was forced to resort to alcohol. We were never good at dealing with problems, none of us. 

Going from is to was. That is what death is. 

Archer kisses the side of my head. 

'It's all going to be all right.'

Nothing is ever going to be the same. My world just collapsed once, and when I was just beginning to stand up again, it broke apart from underneath my feet. 

In the past week, I suffered more heartbreak than any other person. And the fact that I was dreaming before it happens just makes it more disastrous. 

I look back at the gravestone and I can't stand it anymore. 

'Take me home, Archer.'

'Okay. Let me ask Sienna for the keys.'

'Not there, Archer. Let's go home.'

Archer nods. 'I'll book the tickets.'

A single tear runs down my cheek, and I watch it fall on the gravestone. 

'I'll miss you, Jeremy.'

/*\*/*\