2. Complicated

                As I sit by my brother’s bed, holding his hand. I feel my web slowly coming undone only to have it tangle on the other end. My original web of thoughts and emotions is now evolving into something else. Something twisted and complicated something that shouldn’t be touched and figured out. So instead of trying to figure out my own web of thoughts and emotions I focus on my brother’s web. And try to consider things from his point of view as Atticus told Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird. But as I try to get into my brother’s complicated mess of lies, secrets, and intentions not worth having. It disgusted me to know that I was even related to him. It also saddened me to know that my only brother turned out this way. Lying in a hospital bed with nothing except for the darkness of his thoughts. Thoughts that are probably trying to think of a way to turn light again. Or thoughts that keep on replaying the last moments of that car crash over and over again. Thoughts that are wondering what has gone wrong, why the owner’s life turned up that way. Or maybe the thoughts and emotions have become too deteriorated by the simple addicting smell of cocaine, and the warming affect of the pee tasting alcohol.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” (To Kill a Mockingbird)

                My own thoughts play that quote over and over again. Trying to find a way to climb into Sander’s own skin and see what he saw, feel what he felt. It doesn’t work out. I can only see the pale, fragile fourteen-year-old boy in front of me. And the disgusted feeling that comes when I lay my eyes on him. It’s quickly replaced by an empty feeling of all that I’ve lost the past two years. I know I should love him and be supporting of him especially in this critical time of need. Only I can’t feel it, not at all. It’s not in the depth of my bones, nor is it in my soul or my heart. And it’s definitely not in my brain. The love and support I gave him only resides in memories now. Memories showing how close we once were, the happiness we once felt. Memories that are like the stars in the universe, once bright and full of life, now they’re just dead giving the illusion of still being alive.

                “Are you okay?” asks a voice that was most likely one of Sander’s druggies. He must have noticed me sitting besides my brother’s bed holding his cold fingers. He also must of saw the empty look in my eyes as they try to stare at anything that isn’t human or breathing. Or he might have noticed just how wrecked I really am. A girl that’s tangling herself in the webs of others trying to find a way to suffocate from it all and simply die. Or he didn’t notice anything at all just a supposedly worried sister holding her brother’s hand.

                “Are you okay?” repeats the voice. The question hangs in the air being met by the silence. A tear drops as my hand starts to squeeze my brother’s remaining life out of him. Then another and another till it becomes a steady stream. Only I don’t feel sadness all I can feel is disgust, hate, pity, and an undeniable emptiness that has been in my life all along.  The answer to the guy’s question starts to twist and complicate itself into a deadly intricate web having answers that won’t tell anyone including me.