Cameron's POV
The past four years of my life have been lonely at best. Whilst I still have a close friend stuck beside me, the house is always silent when I come home. No bickering, no mum and dad telling us to shut up, no stupid pranks on each other. I was born four years after my brother, but despite the age gap, we would mostly get along, the bickering was just part of the sibling package. You couldn't have us without it.
But when I was thirteen years old, my brother my current age, things changed. And it certainly wasn't for the best.
I remember I was doing chores, cleaning the dishes; I remember getting the phone call from mum; I remember dropping the plate with a loud crash; I remember the agonising pain that pulsed through me, both from the shards of china in my foot and the news that was revealed to me.
A car crash. A complete accident. Something that couldn't be avoided. That's what everyone claimed anyway. But we had gotten into a silly little squabble that same day, and he decided to go off to his friend's house. So I couldn't help but blame myself.
That's why the house is so silent. It's the anniversary of his death but no one wants to be the first to mention it. I want to find some way to distract myself from it, but I've run out of things to do whenever this day comes.
The first time, I dyed my hair bright red, based on the time when I was younger where I did the same thing, and all my brother would call me was "Red".
The second time, I was gifted earrings from two old friends of his, and I spent the day trying to figure out how to safely pierce my own ears. I ended up messing up one ear, so I chose to pierce one ear in two different places, and now I wear one from each pair in just one ear.
The third time, I finally got onto reading the books he always wanted me to read, and I ended up finishing almost all of them in just that one day.
But this year, I don't know how to occupy my mind. So in the end, I find myself mindlessly flicking through channels on the TV, until mum finally gets me to stop. Good. At this rate, I would've been on it all day.
"Here's an idea Cam, go clean up your room. It's a mess at the moment, and your friend is coming round soon, right?" She says, sitting down on the sofa.
"Robin doesn't care if my room is a mess. They never do," I reply.
"Come on, do it for me. If you don't, I'll be forced to tidy up later."
With a slight laugh, I push myself to my feet and begin to walk out of the room. Each step feels heavy, like the time I had to drag my half passed out brother to his room after he got drunk at a party. He threw up on me that night and I didn't forgive him for a while.
"Cameron..." dad says as I step upstairs.
"Yes?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yes..."
It's a lie. I want to burst into tears, hug him tightly and beg for my brother to come back. But I can't, I won't, my tears are gone, worn out over years of crying myself to sleep, years of choking back a sob everytime I walked past his room, years of missing him.
Cleaning up my room does take my mind off of things, my melancholy replaced by irritation, as I can't just kick my things to the side. Sighing, I open a drawer with the intention of dumping some clothes in there, but what I find catches my attention. I thought this was my pyjama drawer, why is what looks like a forgotten Christmas present in here?
It's wrapping paper has snowflakes on, the same paper that wrapped around the presents from my parents only less than a month ago now. It's barely passed New Years, did someone forget about it?
As I go to rip it open, I notice a name written on it in familiar, scribbly handwriting.
Red
The nickname is enough to bring up forgotten tears, enough to make me sob for what feels like forever, tears that I thought would never return streaming down my cheeks. As I look down, the scar on my foot from the shattered plate mocks me, laughs at me for finally breaking. For shattering like it did.
Biting my lip to stop another cry, I lock my bedroom door and take the wrapped box over to my bed, where I begin to open it slowly. And in the box are two things.
A note in his handwriting.
Hey Red,
I got a lot to tell you. It won't really fit in a letter. But I know what it would fit into.
A USB stick.
Shakily, I plug it along with my earphones into my laptop, and a video pops up.
"Shay..." I breathe, an older version of his familiar face on the screen. Brown eyes, dark, honey skin, short and dark brown hair.
I press play.
"Heya Red. I bet you're a little shocked by this, I mean, how many years has it been now, four? Pretty crazy if you ask me. I noticed your red hair is back, I told you it suits you. But now's not the time for all that, there are some things I should probably explain. One, yes, I'm alive, I didn't die in that crash, I wasn't even in it. We were nowhere near the main roads. Two, no, you cannot tell mum and dad, I wouldn't be safe if you did. Three, I need you to find me, you're not safe where you are. But I can't outright say it, that wouldn't be good for any of us, especially if someone finds this. So here's how we'll do it, there's a clue somewhere in this video. You're gonna use it to find other USBs, which will have more clues about my location. Just be quick about it, so no one hurts you. I've gotta go now, I hope I'll see you soon. Bye."
I don't believe it. There's no way. Plus, there was nothing that could be any sort of clue in here. At least I don't think so. I watch again and again but nothing stands out. Eventually, I feel myself growing exhausted, the stress of all this eating me up from the inside. I was supposed to be distracting myself today, and look where that plan lead me.
As I place my laptop on my desk, my phone starts ringing. Robin, they always call on this day.
"Oh, you picked up, you never usually do," they say.
"That's because I can usually distract myself on my own. Today's been a nightmare, I don't know what to do..."
"Cam... is there any reason why today is particularly bad in comparison?"
I shouldn't tell them. If what my brother said was all true, then I shouldn't tell a soul. But at the same time, what if I do find him? Am I just going to disappear like he did? Am I going to have to fake some car accident like he did?
Wait.
"I'll call you back later Robin."
"Wait wh-"
I hang up before I can give them an answer and grab my laptop again. I skim through the video and now a certain line stands out.
"I didn't die in that crash, I wasn't even in it. We were nowhere near the main roads."
Would the next clue be where the crash occurred? That idiot, he should know I have no clue where it really was. I was briefly told, I know the approximate area and I'm not just going to ask mum or dad where it happened.
That's when I notice a voicemail from an unknown number on my phone. No caller ID, no matter who it is, I won't be able to call back.
"You're big brother just realised how stupid he is. So I'll give you an extra hint, because otherwise you'll never be able to find me. I'm sure you've gathered what the original hint implies. It's a certain area that we always had to be careful around, mum and dad wouldn't let us cross unless we were holding their hands. They even tried to keep it up when we were older, you refused to listen one time and almost got ran over. It was pretty scary, though I suppose I should've expected your survival. Gotta go now, bye Red."
Jeez he's prepared.
An area I almost got run over... I think that's almost happened a good five times now. I've just narrowly missed it by some miracle each time, which seems impossible if you ask me. I can't think of a certain crossing where mum and dad made us hold their hands, that must've been when we were quite young.
He should know my memory's as bad as a goldfish's! He's the one who always made fun of me for it.
"Cameron!" Dad calls, knocking the door and snapping me out of my daze.
"W-what is it?"
"We were thinking of going out for dinner, do you want to come with us?"
I might as well, what use is there in saying no? I'll just have to text Robin to tell them I'm going out, I will call them back, but it might just have to be a fair bit later than intended. Or I'll just have to talk to them at school tomorrow.
"Okay, I'll be down in a moment," I call back, digging through drawers for a pair of socks to wear. As usual, I struggle to find a pair, so I end up with odd socks, one being particularly festive, I recall getting it from Robin on our last day of school before the Christmas break.
"C'mon Cam, we don't have all day," Mum says, opening my door.
"I'm almost ready. Do you know where my boots are?"
"Not in an appropriate state to wear. They're drenched in mud from that time you went to the park last week."
"Well where are they?"
She sighs, rolling her eyes slightly and leads me downstairs to where the mud soaked boots sit. I quickly slide them onto my feet, and grab my coat from the coat rack.
Soon, we're in the car, and I can use the opportunity to ask a certain question.
"Hey mum, dad, didn't I almost get run over once?" I ask.
"Please don't remind me. I swear, you're the reason I have so many grey hairs. I'm pretty sure it almost gave me a heart attack," mum laughs.
"It was right round here actually, you barely even cried about it, but your brother started sobbing with how scared it made him," Dad laughs.
"And then you went ahead and almost did it again a few years later, that time was with Robin though, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, they got so scared that they didn't forgive me for about a week. They still get super nervous every time we cross a road. And then it happened another time with Aunt Edith-"
"She never told me about that," Mum interrupts.
"She was probably scared that you'd kill her for almost letting that happen," I say.
Well now I know where to search. I pass this area whenever I go to Robin's house, so if I can convince them to let me come round in the next few days, I can search on the way there. Then again, if it's after school, Robin will be there with me.
I can't let them find out. Even though I want to, I'm sure it's for the best that I don't.
"Oh, they're calling again," I mutter, looking down at my phone.
"Is that Robin?" Mum asks.
"Yeah, I hung up on them really abruptly earlier, I should probably answer... hey Robin."
"What was all that about earlier? You hung up so quickly," they laugh.
"Oh right..."
Even if I decide that I will tell them, now's not the time.
"Yeah, sorry, I realised that my laptop was about to fall off my desk and I panicked. I didn't call back because I'm going out for dinner with my parents, don't worry though, we're in the car so you didn't interrupt anything."
"Oh okay. Are you sure everything's alright?"
"I'm fine. I'll see you at school tomorrow."
"Okay, bye."
We end up going to one of my favourite Italian restaurants in town, one we went to a lot when I was younger and that we continue to frequently visit even now.
The last time I came here with Shay was a few months before his death. Or, not death. It feels weird to know that he's not dead, because that's all I want to call him. But, despite the confusion that this whole ordeal causes me, I can look back on that day with a smile. My idiot brother continued to be an idiot until what I thought was his end. It was my grandfather's birthday and we chose to have a big family meal at this restaurant.
"Ow! What was that for Cam?" Shay groaned after I nudged him.
"That's what you get for trying to steal my food. You promised you wouldn't steal any this time," I argued.
Our little squabbles were usually ignored by the rest of the family, but for some reason, that day was different.
"I promised that before you decided to order the spaghetti bolognese, you know it's my weakness."
"Well maybe you should've ordered it instead of pepperoni pizza."
"I didn't know they had it," he pouted.
"How did you not know they had it? It's an Italian restaurant!"
"Oh shut up, just give me half!"
"Half? No way. See, this is why I said I didn't want to sit next to you."
"Cameron, you wanna swap places with me?" My cousin Ella suggested.
"Yes please, I don't think I can stand sitting next to this thief for much longer," I spat, moving to the now empty seat to my left.
The rest of the meal was going alright until I began to feel a little unwell.
"You okay Cam? You look pale," Shay said, poking his head past Ella to look at me. I nodded before taking another sip of my drink and that's when I realised what was wrong.
Ella is six years older than me. So at the time, she was nineteen. And the legal age to drink alcohol in Britain in eighteen.
Yeah, it didn't take long for me to connect the dots.
"Hey Ella, I think this might be your drink," I mutter, handing it to her.
"Oh my god..." I heard her whisper as she took the drink from my hand. "This is definitely my drink."
"Shoot..."
When we got home, Shay helped carry me to the bathroom and he sat there whilst I threw up. That whole ordeal is the main reason I don't drink.
"I guess this is your revenge for me throwing up on you the other week," he laughed.
"I didn't want to end up drinking alcohol..." I grumbled, "I just wanted my lemonade."
"So I assume you're not going to be much of a party animal when you're older."
"I prefer myself this way."
"Don't worry," he grinned, "so do I."
I think he'd be glad to know I haven't changed all too much. I have become more miserable over the years, but based on the circumstances it's not much of a surprise.
"So what do you think you're going to have?" Mum asks as I look down at the menu.
"Probably spaghetti bolognese, it's my favourite."
"Shay's too."
"Yeah... Shay's too."