Dear Brother by Miss Dagger

[Guest]

Here is story I wrote a while back, not exactly sure when somewhere between 2004-2007. Since I only have a copy of the file, I can't see when it was created. But when I get to the real file I'll tell you all.

I only now did a few fast changes where it got too confusing, but otherwise this is the same as when I wrote it/last edited it. I think I looked and edited it like a half year or year after I wrote it. There are a few mistakes still, and my love of fragmented sentences is there.

I wanted to share this because this is a story I wrote that every time I read it I cry. In some ways I wanted to know if anyone else was as touched by it. In no way am I expecting critic, because if I wanted that I'd clean it up and rewrite some parts, but I don't want to do it. I love it as it is, and I'm not planning to do anything with it, beside read it, and cry with it.

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Dear Brother
Obviously copyrighted to me

Autumn leaves were falling from the trees; the wind pushed them around before they landed on the damp earth. The sky was full of clouds, hiding the sunshine from everyone. The graveyard covered the area in grim death, making everything murky and chilled him to the bone; intensified by the dark and cold of approaching winter. Hesitation shot through his soul, willing him to run, to flee. Swallowing hard, he took another step toward the graveyard.

Trembling, he slowly walked closer, moving towards his goal, a gravestone that crept closer. His eyes fastened on the name. He could not stand it. Closing his eyes, tears glittered on the edges. Hands clenching at his sides, he forced his eyes open. Pure willpower, something he did not know he had, made it possible for him to examine the whole gravestone.

Rest in peace, dear brother
Cole A. Stone
Birth 30 Sep 1977
Death 13 Nov 2006

A cold fist tightened around his heart and he dropped his eyes, no longer having the will to see anymore. Instead his eyes found green moss covering the space where flowers should have been. Tears filled his eyes, he should have gone here earlier, but he had been afraid. Afraid of having to accept his brother was dead. Shame filled him. He knew Cole would have visited much earlier. Much earlier, and several times. That was his brother, loyal to his last breath.

“Why?” he whispered, knowing it was fruitless, but the pain inside seared him.

“Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you stay!” his scream rang in the silence. No one there to listen, no one there to hear his broken scream.

Sobs tried to break free but he forced them back. Gulping for air, he swept away tears from his cheeks. He knelt down, to be level with his brother’s grave.

“God... Why? Why Cole?” he whispered against the stone as he rested his forehead against it. “Why the only one who loved me?”

No answer came. The only sound was the wind whistling in the trees. Leaves settled on the ground, silence reigning for a short while, before the wind picked up again. He was still for a long time, before leaning back his eyes on his brother’s name.

“Cole...” he murmured. His fingers stroked the letters, imprinting them on his fingers, as his brother’s name was imprinted in his mind.

“It’s your birthday today... You would have been thirty, and... I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to see you... I... I’ve been so alone without y-you,” his voice broke on a sob. He gripped the gravestone tightly in his hands. “I’m... I’m not sure I can g-go on without you.”

Pressing his forehead to his brother’s stone his breathe hitching on his sobs, which tore out of his chest.

“Please, please take me too.”


November 10th, 2006

“Hey brother, come on!” Cole shouted from the living room. “You have to go soon.”

Cole’s brother trudged into the room, his eyes on the floor. The sunshine fell on his feet and slowly warmed his toes, while he stood silent. Biting his lip, he glanced up at Cole.

“What is it? You’re perfect for this job, what do you have to fear?” Cole asked softly, lightly patting the seat beside him on the couch.

“What if they don’t want me?” he mumbled softly, sinking down on the couch. He rubbed his thighs, curling his fingers into the fabric of his dress pants.

“Why wouldn’t they? You’re smart, devoted and qualified enough to advance in the company,” Cole answered simple; he wasn’t exaggerating either. His brother was good at what he did.

“I still don’t think...” he muttered, looking away.

Cole touched his shoulder lightly, and he turned to meet his eyes.

“Hey,” Cole began gently, “don’t you want to be able to support yourself properly? Don’t you know how proud I would be if you got this job?”

Gulping, he stared at Cole for a long time. His bottom lip trembled faintly, but Cole saw.

“I won’t be disappointed if you don’t get it. Do you know why?”

He shook his head, his eyes still in Cole’s.

“Because the only reason they would refuse you would be if they couldn’t see what was before their eyes. And then you’d be better off without that job anyway,” Cole concluded with a smile, ruffling his brother’s hair. A soft smile formed on his brother’s lips. A reward Cole rarely got these days.

“Won’t you like it? To be able to stand on your own two legs, be a responsible guy?” Cole grinned, lightly smacking their foreheads together.

He yelped and pulled back from Cole. He rubbed his forehead while slanting a look at Cole, who innocently looked back.

“You...” he couldn’t come up with anything good to say, he sighed.

“Aw no, come on! You are the man, go take them. You can and you will, won’t you? I will be so proud of you, you know?” he ended his little pep talk softly, gazing at his brother.

He nodded mutely. He struggled with himself for a second before he hastily hugged Cole, then he stood up. Slowly determination settled over his features. His hands trembled a little when he straightened his clothes and hair, but otherwise he was pulling calmness from Cole, pulling it around him like a blanket. He would stand up for himself, and make Cole proud to be related to him.


Present

Slowly his mind settled back in reality, the cold from the stone having chilled him to the bone. Shaking, he pulled back. Tears slowly spilled from his eyes as he gazed at the only thing left of Cole, of his brother. Pain blossomed in his chest, driving more tears to pour from his eyes. Unsure, he slowly reached out his hand, laying it on top of the gravestone.

“I wonder where you are. I wonder how you are. I wonder why you left me behind.”

He closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“But maybe...” his voice faltered, but came back after a little while, “maybe you had no choice. Maybe it just was your time... Your time to leave, and my turn to learn to... to live my own life.”

Rain started falling from the sky slowly, almost hesitant, before settling in a steady drizzle. The leaves grew heavier and more of them fell to the ground landing around him. The rain hid his tears from anyone, anyone watching from anywhere. He let them fall like he had not done yet. Let them fall and did not hold back, not this time. His body shuddered as sobs assaulted his body. He rocked, his arms wrapped tightly around him as he grieved. The only thing he held back was sound, his lips pressed into a tight line to prevent it.

Time went by, before he stilled, his arms slowly loosening. His eyes red from crying, his throat tight for the same reason, he stared at his brother’s gravestone.

“I know what you want me to do. I got the job, as you said all along. I got the job, and now. Now I have to stand on my own two legs, don’t I? I’ll be the responsible guy you wanted me to be. For you, for me...” he whispered softly.

“I’ll come back, soon. Because I still need you, but I will try. Try to learn to stand on my own.”

[xraineyesx]

Powerful, hon, powerful. I don't know what inspired it or what it means to you, but you don't have to know the background to see relate to this tale. Everyone has experienced loss in some form and we all have to go through the pain of growing up and independence. (Or at least we should.)

I must admit, it didn't make me cry. But fret not. I have a reputation for having a heart of stone, for being above the mortal emotion of sadness and crying, haha. (I'm not, but I generally don't cry, so don't think it wasn't emotional.)

Even though you claim to have not been very good at English when you wrote this, I still think it's good. I don't think it would require much fixing up anyway.

Nice job.

[Guest]

Awww, thanks!

I wasn't expecting other people to cry, but I'm glad someone else beside me thinks it's powerful. And I've experienced a very close loss. At least I'd say losing your mother is close (yes, a poor attempt at a joke. How do one otherwise cope?). It was a long time ago, but it never fails to suddenly hit me with a vengeance.

If I decide to publish it somewhere else, I might clean it up. But at the same time it's more like a story I wrote a long time ago. It's not like you clean up the stories you wrote when you were six or so. Sometimes it's just nice to see how good or bad you were when you were younger.

Any chance that you noticed things I was particularly good or bad at?

[xraineyesx]

Mm. I understand. (Well, you can either live life laughing or live life crying. I choose to be humorous.) I have both of my parents, thankfully, but I have lost close family members and I understand this.

Rie said he cried. I told you it was emotionally powerful. It's very, very hardhitting, but that is a good thing.

Particularly bad at, no, honestly. Good, well, as you said, you are very good at dialogue. I thought that the dialogue was what carried the story even though the majority of it is to someone who isn't alive.

[Guest]

I know that people usually don't speak their thoughts out loud, but it would look kind of silly not to have it as dialog. Even if it is to a gravestone.

It might sound kinda funny, but I'm happy that Riekon cried. Because to me that really shows that it is emotionally powerful. Well, I do believe you when you say you felt it too. Maybe you did some metaphorical crying.

Oh and I'm glad the transitions are okay. (If someone is wondering, we're kinda discussing it in chat too.) If I'd fix it up I'd probably focus on the non-speaking parts and especially in the flashback where it sometimes isn't totally clear who "he" is all the time. You always understand it in the middle or by the end of the sentence, but it should be understood as soon as one read "he". Or is that only I?

[xraineyesx]

Nooo. I thought it was good that way. I didn't think it was silly.

And I understand what you mean. Ha, metaphorically, sure. That's a good way to put it.

Mm. That was probably the one weak spot in the story. I was kind of confused as to who was talking in some spots. Careful reading deciphered it for me, I think, but that probably was the only part that was a little rough around the edges.

[Guest]

Heh...well it is confusing because I never named the brother that is alive. I tried to name him, I seriously did. But he had no name. Or rather, no name fit, so finally I gave up and just continued writing. As carefully as possible I tried to make it clear who talked and so. I've never had such a problem finding a good name before that, or even after. But he'll continue to be nameless for now.

[xraineyesx]

That's okay.
Leave him nameless. It makes him more identifiable. It puts the reader more into the position of the narrator, more in the story than as if they were just reading it.

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