Dedicated to k_olive for her virtual friendship and everlasting support.
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"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying."
- Arthur C. Clarke
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Chapter 1:
When my father was murdered, he left behind no legacy. He had no money to his name - only the income in which my mother provided. The only people, besides my family, that were somewhat affected by his death were the bartenders at the local pub.
I recalled a quote that I read around the time of his passing: without trust, there is nothing. That was the truth. I loved nothing, I had nothing, and I was nothing.
For before the actions of that night, I trusted one person: Eli. It just so happens that the people you love the most, hurt you the most. Unfortunately, my brother left my mother and me alone in a house filled with sorrows and broken promises.
Mom decided that since I witnessed the crime, I was "unstable", and needed treatment. She was right, to some degree, but I wasn't crazy. I could handle myself. She admitted me to a mental hospital the month following the death, only visiting me once a week. She was always "busy" with work and such, and apparently it was too much of a bother to visit your own daughter. The seclusion was hard for me to deal with, because being alone meant my mind was able to wander. Flashbacks from that night would haunt my thoughts and dreams, forcing me into a deep and dark depression.
It was safe to say that my life was hell.
When the doctors finally cleared me to leave months later, I couldn't have been happier. I had friends that I hadn't seen in months outside of the hospital walls - or so I thought.
The shocking reality of being a murderer's sister struck me hard. People no longer looked at me as a normal person - I was a creep, and was immediately categorized as a murderer as well. Everyone was afraid of me.
My friends wouldn't even look me in the eye when I was able to go back to school. I was named the outsider even before I returned. It was absolutely mortifying.
Walking through the halls, hearing what they said as I passed was the worst part. 'Crazy Camilla' became my new label, sticking to me like a second skin.
As I sat and cried in the bathroom stall that first day, nobody was there to comfort me. Being alone was the new solidity of my existence. I didn't like it at all, but it wasn't like I had a choice. My opinion was no longer valid; I was no longer valid.
Even my teachers were cautious around me. They never called on my in class, and they'd always give me high marks on assignments, in fear that I might kill them if they didn't. It was a ghastly way to live, that was for sure.
A shred of hope came into my life on that foggy, spring morning. A new face made it's way into my first period Art class; a boy with dark hair and sharp facial features.
"Class, meet the newest addition to Art, Jaxon Boyd. Jaxon, this is the class."
After our teacher gave her brief introduction, Jaxon gazed around the room. We made eye contact for a second, but I was quick to break it. He smiled at me. It felt so nice to see someone who didn't know about my past.
Only time would tell when he would find out about my brother.
My thoughts became blurred, causing me to feel sleepy. I wasn't snapped back into reality until the chair next to me began to move.
Jaxon sat in it.
I panicked. My palms started getting sweaty and I could barely form a sentence. I had to warn him that he couldn't sit with me - it was practically committing social suicide to even look at me, let alone sit with me.
"No, y-you can't sit here."
Jaxon turned to me with a large smile on his face. "Of course I can. You don't want me to sit with you?"
"You can't. Please, just sit elsewhere."
I looked around the room to see the horrified looks from my classmates. Oh no, this was bad. What if they isolated him just because he spoke to me? They couldn't seclude him like they did to me, nobody else deserved to feel this way.
"Are you alright?" He could tell that I was extremely uncomfortable. I just didn't want to ruin his reputation before he was able to prove himself to everyone. It wasn't fair.
"Everybody will hate you if you sit here. You'll regret it."
He looked so confused. "I don't see the big deal. What's your name?"
I started to relax. Would it really be that bad if I took advantage of this opportunity for a little social interaction? Well, what did I have to lose? I guess I could act upon the only person actually talking to me for the time being.
"Camilla."
"That's a pretty cool name."
"Thanks."
And I left it at that - anything more would be too dangerous for his soon-to-be-born reputation at this school. I awkwardly shifted in my seat a few times, trying to ignore the presence next to me. On plenty occasions I tried to wish him away, but I guess I didn't wish hard enough.
At lunch, I sat alone at my own special table. It wasn't anything different than what I usually did, until he came.
Jaxon sat with me, again. He must really have a death wish.
"Hey, friend!"
Oh my gosh. When would he learn?
"Jaxon, you really can't sit with me. I'm begging you."
"I don't understand why you don't want some company. I'm being nice, really. Is that such a crime?"
He had no idea.
"Listen, there are some things that you don't know about me. I'm saving you trouble now by trying to keep you away. Just trust me please."
He just smiled. "It can't be that bad, right?"
---
When school was finished, I took the bus down to the county jail. In the year that had gone by since that night, I hadn't once visited my brother. Sure, the thought had passed my mind more than once, but I was too much of a coward.
Would he still be the same boy that he always was? Of course not - he was jailed for murder. He obviously was a very different person now.
I went through security and was cleared for visitation. I walked into a big room filled with windows and telephones. On the other side of the windows were people in orange jumpsuits. Anxiety spread throughout my body as I came the realization that I was in a legit prison.
I guess I didn't think it through enough; I should leave. But I didn't.
An officer led me to a specific window and told me to wait for my brother. I did as I was told.
Would he look different? Would he talk different? I forgot how his voice sounded anyways. I forgot how he used to be.
A man sat down opposite of me, gesturing for me to pick up the telephone. It was him.
"Camilla?"
I began to tear up at the sound of his voice, even though I swore to myself that I wouldn't. Showing weakness was a bad thing. I went on to speak, my voice keeping to a low whisper. "Oh my God, it's you."
In all of the months that I resided in the treatment center, I never shed a tear. I blocked out emotions and feelings, forcing myself to become a shell of a human being. Sitting here in the jail, staring at my brother, the nothingness was filled with the emotions I had locked away.
First and foremost, I was relieved to see my brother, to hear his voice. Next, I felt anger and sadness. This man was not my brother, but a murderer of his own flesh and blood. He left me alone when he knew I had no one else, and for that, I would never forgive him. He was selfish.
"Yes, it's me. How are you, Cami? How's Mom?" He acted as if nothing happened. Did he really care? Was he just trying to win me back?
"I have to make one thing clear, Eli. I didn't come here because I forgave you - I will never forgive you." I paused to collect my thoughts and muster up some courage. I still didn't know what drove me to come here today. "I am here because I need closure, and you are the only person who can give that to me. So, Elijah Harrison, why did you do it?"
He knew that as soon as I said his full name, I was dead serious. I was looking for nothing but the truth, and if he couldn't give me that, then he would never see my face again.
Eli sighed and ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. After a few minutes of thinking through his explanation, he broke the silence.
"I don't know."
"Eli, cut the crap, you-"
"I don't know why I did it, Camilla. I know you will never be able to forgive me, but neither will I. I killed my own father, and I don't even have a damn reason. How pathetic is that?"
His voice was so regretful, so full of anger towards himself. It was a pity to watch. He made it clear to me at that moment that he was still the same Eli he always was, only filled with demons of the past that he couldn't let go of. It made me want to tell him everything, so I did.
"I'm sorry I didn't visit sooner. I was so mad at you, I couldn't even think about you without wanting to punch a wall. You don't know the shit you left me with, Eli. After what you did, Mom made me spend three months in a mental hospital. I wasn't even crazy! The doctor's told me I'm depressed, but I don't know if they are right or not. I don't really know anything anymore."
It felt nice to share my thoughts with someone who actually cared. In my life, I only ever trusted one person, and he was sitting across from me in a jumpsuit. Being reunited, despite the circumstance, filled a void in my heart, even if it was only temporary. I didn't have to fall asleep tonight still thinking of my brother as a monster, only a lost boy who made a terrible, terrible decision - a decision that took one's life.
"I can't apologize enough to you, Cami. I am such a terrible person, but I am so grateful that you finally came. I don't deserve for you to be here. How are you doing with everything? How's school?"
I looked down and began to play with my fingers. I couldn't tell him about school, he would hate himself even more. He may be a criminal, but he's still my brother. Nobody deserves the amount of guilt he already carries inside - it would be cruel of me to add to it.
"Oh, you know. School is school. Boring and hard, as usual."
He could tell I was lying because I was terrible at not telling the truth.
"They treat you differently now, don't they? Because of me?"
The pain in his eyes only grew.
"Yeah," I told him quietly. "It's alright though, I don't need friends, really. I was always independent anyways."
"Did they all leave you, Camilla?" When I didn't answer, he continued. "You know, when I did it, I wasn't thinking. I didn't think about all of the people I was affecting by doing it. I was so selfish; I was just so tired. Tired of Dad and his bullshit excuse of fathering. I was tired of everything. Mom and Dad gave us a crappy life, Camilla. I tried to make it better for you before, but look at us now. I only made it worse."
A small tear trickled down his face, proving his sincerity. I wasn't sure how to feel about the situation. This whole thing was pretty overwhelming.
"Alright Harrison, visit's over. Time is up."
An officer took Eli and pulled him down a hallway after unlocking his ankle cuffs. Before he slipped out of my vision, Eli mouthed "I'm so sorry." I couldn't handle any more apologies today.
---
Back when I was a little girl, I thought my future would be so bright. I dreamed of being a professional soccer player, my friends and family coming to watch my every game. I would have a loving husband and three dogs, and we would live in a beautiful house.
What I never pictured, however, was living the life I do today.
The fact is that the majority of dreams are left behind, pushed away by reality. Fantasies are the epitome of innocence; without imagination, what are we as humans?
I gave up on my dreams from back then. Everyone had given up on me anyway, so what was the point?
After that night, mom partially blamed me for the outcome. She says that since I was in the room, I should've saved dad. I already knew this, of course, but she still felt the need to let me know. The amount of guilt that I held deep inside would never measure up to what Eli felt, but it was still overwhelming. Having someone rub your flaws in your face isn't very fun.
Mom and I spent our time apart, only seeing each other when we would pass by throughout the house. We never spoke, and our house was always quiet. For she was battling her own demons too; she was married to a man that was killed by her beloved son.
The major difference between us is the fact that she pities herself for what happened to her. I - as of currently - am trying to move on with my life, make amends. She is, and will forever, live in the past.
I made a choice that day, a choice that affected my entire life afterwards. I decided to restart. Maybe I would rejoin the school soccer team. Maybe I would sign up for the yearbook committee. Maybe I would make a friend.
The last one was a long shot.
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