This is a one-shot in honor of Carson Phillips death. Which I sadly miss the deadline to, well where I am anyway, some of you still have a couple of hours.

Discalimer: I own nothing, except for my OC.

I fidget as I straighten my tie; I was never a fan of dressing up, not even for church, but today was kind of important.

Combing my hair back one more time, I grabbed my keys, pocketing them, and ran out of the apartment.

There were kids out on the street throwing a football around, some flying kites, along with the smell of rain in the air.

I better hurry; it could start pouring down anytime soon.

Grabbing my bike I road down the road, not really worrying about cars, or any traffic for that matter. My mom and I lived in the small part of town, where not many people looking for a fancy home came to live.

It was a bit of a ride, but I made it just as the clouds started to darken. I glance around before finally pulling up to the cemetery.

It was vacant, with not a single soul to be seen. It's funny how there are graves here, but I never see any flowers except on the one that says, "Miss you Johnny you're the best dog ever."

How pets were put in here too I'll never know.

I stop by Ms. Phillips mother's grave first, I probably shouldn't, but someone has to right? I set the bouquet of flowers I bought down on her grave, smiling a bit, before turning around and searching for another grave.

I've been here a couple times in the past two years. After I found a reason to be here.

It's the one I always visit when I want to get away for a bit, yeah I know it's kind of creepy, but ever since I found the journal I've needed to see him at least once, even if he wasn't here anymore. I spent a while searching for his grave the first time I came here, and when I found it well you could say I didn't feel anything, but regret. Regret that I would never have a chance to meet him, or thank him for his words, because even if he hadn't been around, or I barely knew him… I wanted to thank him for inspiring me.

Finally, coming up the tombstone, I knelt down and placed a single #2 pencil on his grave before sitting back, and just gathering my thoughts.

What should I say? I sort of talked to him before, but today it just felt different… More important and my words needed to have importance to them... I could wing it I guess…

"Hey Carson," I started off simply; good start good start… now what? I fidgeted a bit brushing back my hair before chuckling without much humor.

"Sorry it's just… well I never got all fancy when I came to see you those couple of times, and even before that I just sort of stared…" I trailed off not really feeling sad… just uneasy I guess...

"Um… I passed all my test this year, except for that one math test… How the hell you kept your GPA at 4.3 I'll never know. And next year I'll be going to Clover High School, and you know I was thinking of joining the Writer's Club, carry on the legacy you know?" I guess it was kind of silly to expected to hear his voice, but it was just a stone with his name on it. I could feel my eyes start to sting, and just got frustrated.

"I know we never meet hell I wasn't even born when you died which is just so unfair!" I said fiercely, "But… I feel I would have hated you if I ever meet you, and at the same time I would have been intrigued, maybe kind of glad! Sure you probably wouldn't know much about me, but you were just-just an inspiration! And I just-!"

"Casey!"

I jumped at the sudden voice. I turned around and saw my dad holding a single white rose in his hand. I quickly got up and brushed any escaped tears before just standing there.

"Your mom told me you might be here, she saw you leave on your bike."

I didn't say anything, only shrugged, and kept my eyes on the grave.

"Your suite case is already in the car," He said as he came to stand next to me, "We should get going too, it's gonna be quite a storm tonight."

I only nodded. We silently stood there, and it's not that I didn't like my dad, I just saw him in a different light I guess. I never understood why mom divorced him when I was two, it wasn't until I read Carson's journal that I understood, dad was still dad just not the one I thought he was. It's easy for kids to hate there parents, it's another thing when you doubt them.

Dad didn't really know what to say so he just knelt down placed the flower on Carson's grave brushing away the dirt.

We stood there for a while, and it wasn't until the first drops of rain came down did I ask, "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah," was Dad's simple reply, "It's been 14 years, but it still feels like just yesterday he was yelling at me."

I grinned a bit because that's what he would probably be doing.

"What was he like?" I asked as we turned and headed towards the car.

Dad grabbed my bike putting it in the truck as I got into the passenger seat.

He came back inside starring the ignition before answering, "He was loud, rude, but I guess that's all I ever knew... I wasn't always the best person Casey, but I've gotten better since then."

I only nodded as we drove to his house in silence.

14 years ago, my brother Carson Phillips died when he was struck by a bolt of lightning.

Three months after his death I was born. I didn't know about him until I turned 13, and I found his journal. Since then I've learned that my brother's words were true.

"Like having a great idea, life comes at you fast. It hits you and tries to escape and be expressed in any way possible," thunder roars out in the distance, "in a way, it's a lot like," followed by a flash of light, "...lightning."

So this is my OC Casey Phillips, Carson Phillips younger brother. It nagged at me that the baby would be born not really knowing he had a brother, but I like to think he did in someway. I hope you liked the one-shot enough to leave a review! Catch you arond Motherstruckers!