Hey guys! Here's a little plot bunny I had rolling around in my head today. Warning: this deals with sensitive topics, if this bothers you, please don't read it!
Also, this was supposed to be part of a bigger chapter story but for now it'll remain a short story. Hope you like it! * All other q's you might have will be answered either within the story or at the end in another A/N. (Author's note).
To makes things a bit clearer before you read on, Mario and Peach are married and have two sons; Marcus (also known as Marc in this story, age 25, older brother) and Patrick, (age 20,younger brother) *no I did not name him after Patrick from Spongebob
oh yeah you might need tissues...
Patrick:
Sydney and I had taken our time at dinner, she seemed to glow more each day with her brunette bouncy ringlets falling to shoulders every time she laughed. I had known early on when we met that this was the girl I wanted to grow old with. I had hoped she would think the same but unfortunately, I couldn't propose to her tonight as much as I wanted to though. Why? My boss figured I wasn't working hard enough so he cut my salary. I know I'm only 20 and I'm already thinking of marriage, Marc would think I'm going too fast but what does he know?
Marc, my older sibling, thinks that dating in general is cheesy and boring. He likes to assume that he's a Mister Know- It- All but my parents would like him to reconsider. We don't really get along, not like our father and his brother; our uncle. It's not that we don't care about each other, we do, we just don't have the same opinions. It has always been this way ever since I was six and we don't tend to change these plans any time soon. He does respect my choices though, I will give him that much, I had introduced Sydney to my family four years ago and the first thing he said was, "Boy, you are way out of my brother's league." Meaning he thought I couldn't get someone decent but that also was code for, "You've made a good choice, bro."
As it turned out, I met someone so much more than "decent", Sydney has been my one companion, the person I run to in times of great emotion at my house. She always welcomed me with safe arms, she truly doesn't know her worth to me; she's priceless. Standing up to her 5'7 posture, she offers me her hand as I paid the check. I gladly take her hand and give her a gentle smile as we walked away. Opening the car door for her, she slides in with the smile that never left her face all evening. Before I drove off, I turn to her and kiss her hand,
"Despite that smile, I can tell you're distracted, is something wrong?" I ask her, then those big brown eyes look over at me
"No, not really I just have a lot on my mind right now." She answers,
"Well whatever it is, I'm sure we can work it out." I reassure her, Sydney always worries about something; she worries enough for the both of us. I then notice the pitch of her voice, it seemed unusual. Maybe she's coming down with a cold? Her hand slide to cup my face,
"We always do." She gives a sad smile, I then take her home.
...
Throughout the night I had a hard time sleeping, Sydney seemed so strange when I asked her if something was bothering her. She isn't usually one to keep things from me, I know she trusts me completely so, I have a hard time understanding why she's so sensitive all of the sudden. I knew I couldn't talk about this to my parents or Marc, I just think they'll tell me to talk to her. Figuring she most likely isn't sleeping well either, I try to text her. Sydney is a good at replying fast so when 20 minutes pass, I become worried. I try to calm down by convincing myself she's actually sleeping, I mean it's 4:30 in the morning. Yeah, that's it, she's getting some rest. She did mention that college is roughing her up a little, I sometimes forget she's two years older than me.
When eight o' clock rolls around and the castle is bustling with servants already, I couldn't keep the feeling down that Sydney isn't okay. I realized that my dad was trying to get my attention the whole time I had been in my thoughts.
"Patrick!" He snaps his fingers with a slight grin on his face, I jumped startled,
"Woah, yeah, I'm here!"
"What's got your brain in a tizzy?" He asks, making note of my uneasiness.
"I'm just worried about Sydney, that's all." The words slip out before I can catch them, and this catches the rest of my family's attention,
"Why? What's wrong with her?" My mom chimes in, putting down her fork, concern creasing her brow line,
"I don't know, she seemed off last night when I asked her if something was wrong." I guess I'm talking about it anyways.
"Maybe she's tired or something?" Marc offers, for once actually giving useful advice,
"Maybe..." I wipe my mouth clean with the napkin to my left, "I'm gonna go check on her." I know, I have to be overthinking it and what if she sees me as an overprotective boyfriend? I really don't want that.
When I arrive at her house, the image of the front porch seems too quiet. Where is her father? It's usually time for his daily coffee and newspaper reads on the old swing. Instead, the swing was empty, which is even more strange because there is always someone sitting there. Even if it's the local cat that strolls around here. It is possible that her parents are slow this morning, they are getting older, I knock on the door before I realize it. The screened door finally opens to reveal Sydney's mother with a look I have never seen on her face.
"Grace, good morning. I was just curious, is Sydney home?" Grace likes me to call her by first name rather than her last name because she's practically family.
"I was kind of worried about her last night, she seemed off. I wanted to check on her." I added, when Grace rose her eyebrow in wonder. This got a surprised reaction from her and Grace offered me to come inside. I saw Sydney's father sitting on the couch, looking at the ground. Grace gestured for me to sit down next to him, sitting across from me she finally speaks up.
"You wanted to check on Syd?
"Yes, ma'am." I confirm,
"Well, hun, she isn't... She's not here." It seemed like it took a lot of courage for Grace to say that sentence, my heart began to race a little more. I scooted a little further up on the couch,
"Where is she?" I held my breath, I then saw tears form in Grace's eyes,
"She's.. She's dead." I had to do a double take when I heard those words, Grace was now crying and her father, George, walked over to comfort her.
"What happened?" My voice barely above a squeak,
"Sydney must've thought there was too much in her life... So, she took it." What? Are they telling me that the love of my life committed suicide? No. They're lying. I felt my throat tighten with every thought I could rid of,
"She took her own life? Why?" My voice began to quiver, "When did this happen?" I stood up,
"We found her this morning, we can assume this happened last night." Is this really why she didn't answer my texts? Because she was dead? Her parents seemed too distressed for me to get answers now, I decided to head home.
"I'm so sorry." I said, walking to the door,
"It's not your fault, son." Her father finally speaks. Yes it is. My brain angrily says back,
...
I immediately went into my room, ignoring every distraction in my way. I began to cry a little but it wasn't for my sake. My brain was sent into a spiral of panics and gizmos as I cried silently. I couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her laugh, everything that made Sydney well, Sydney. She didn't tell me she was so depressed. Then again, I don't think anyone one would. I was so captivated by my thoughts, I barely heard the door knock,
"Patrick? Can I come in, man?" I was not in the mood for Marc's shenanigans. "I left my phone charger at work, can I use yours?" He adds before letting himself in. I tried to cover up my grief before standing,
"Yeah, sure." The words did not sound strong at all, but of course, Marc didn't notice. I walk over to my dresser and opened one of the drawers to find the phone charger. I avoided Marc's eyes as I handed him the gadget and as he thanked me and walked towards the door, he stopped,
"You okay?" Dammit. So much for going incognito.
"What? Yeah, fine." No, I'm not my girlfriend is dead and all I want to do is crawl into a hole and die myself. Marc shrugs and walks away.
...
Four days later
A couple days later I was finally cracking under the pressure of my family asking me what's wrong. Frankly, I'm surprised they haven't seen Sydney's picture in the obituary section the newspaper yet. It had been when I was working out in the built in gym when Marc showed up to apparently join in. In the middle of taking my anger out on a punching bag, he says,
"Twist your hips." I stop, panting like a dog on a summer's day,
"What?"
"It's all in the waist, brother." He showed me how to properly hit the damn thing, sending the punching bag all the to the side. I did what he told me to do and I hate admitting he's right but it worked. "There you go." He says,
"What do you want, Marc?" I says in between hits,
"Well you can't hog the gym, Speedy," Ah, the old nickname he gave me when we were kids. I was always faster than him so thus, the name Speedy came about. "Also, I wanted to know what has you in a pissy mood?" I rolled my eyes at the last comment,
"Nothing." I subconsciously punched the bag harder the more he interrogated me,
"Yeah because mutilating a punching bag is a definition of 'okay'."
"Okay, either work out or leave," I snap, he stops the punching bag from moving by the chains holding it up on the ceiling. "Marc, that's not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny, Patrick. You think we don't notice how you're acting lately?" I take my gloves off and walk over to my water bottle,
"Shut up."
"No! You're on edge, you're erratic, except when you're down here doing whatever then you're just down right scary!"
"I don't care." I mumble
"I do." I cannot believe Marc is actually giving a crap about my feelings. "Look man, I know we don't see to eye on everything and I know I'm an ass sometimes." He finally grabs my attention,
"Why do you suddenly care?"
"Because you're my brother. I don't always make it known, Patrick, but I do care. I care about mom, dad and you. Now, will you tell me what the hell is wrong?"
"Sydney is dead." I said flatly, the was silence in the air for a second before he spoke,
"What?"
"She's gone."
"How?" He frowns, disbelief crowding his vision,
"She's committed suicide." He nearly choked on his water,
"You can't be serious? She's seemed alright a few -
"I know!" I interrupted him, "But she apparently wasn't!" Tears clouded my eyes again at the memory of her,
"I'm sorry, Speedy." Marc says in the most sincere voice, "When's her funeral?"
"Tomorrow." Marc follows me back up the stairs,
"Do you know how she died?"
"Her parents will tell me tomorrow. I walked out a few days ago before they could tell me."
"Look, if you want us to go with you to her funeral, we will." I knew Marc was trying to be helpful but I really couldn't handle talking about her without wanting to hide away for eternity.
"That's up to you." I shrug,
...
When I had finally told my parents, they were awe-struck and melancholy. Standing in front of my late girlfriend's grave was something I prayed I didn't have to see. But now that I have, I can't stop looking at it. I knew I should've tried harder that night to see what was wrong with her, maybe then I could've fixed the issue. I feel like someone ripped my heart out and stepped on it multiple times; that's the answer I now give to anyone who asks me how I'm doing. It was now evening after the funeral and we are eating dinner in silence. As it turns out, Sydney had overdosed on sleeping pills and when her parents wondered why she wasn't awake that morning, they went to go see her and she never did awaken.
Oddly enough, my father was the quietest in this whole disaster.
"Dad?" I ask, he looks up waiting for the question, "Why are you so quiet?"
"I'm just thinking." He replies,
"About what?"
"The situation just reminds me of others that have happened in the past." This caught my curiosity,
"What are you talking about?" My mom and Marc were listening carefully to Dad speak,
"Your Uncle's bad habits and his misfortune."
"How does this have anything to do with Uncle Luigi's bad luck?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marc shake his head. Mom suddenly looked at her husband,
"Patrick doesn't remember, Mario." She notes, "He was way too young to recall what happened to Daisy." I pimped up immediately, I very loosely knew about my Aunt Daisy, Luigi's wife.
"What about her?"
"Oh yeah, that's right." Dad sets his silverware on the table,
"Your aunt had complications when she had Lauren." Mom took over the explanation, I began to wonder if Lauren, my 13 year old cousin, knew about her mom.
"What kind of complications?" I knew I was being nosy but hey, they brought her up.
"It's a long story for another day." Dad shuts down the conversation immediately, "Don't mention Daisy in front of my brother, it's still a very touchy topic."
"It always will be." Mom mumbles,
"Well, then why haven't you told me before?"
"We just didn't see a reason behind it. Besides your uncle, we don't even really talk about her." Mom's eyes grew solemn, in the midst of all of this, Marc remained silent. I assumed he does remember Aunt Daisy because he's older than me.
"What do you remember, Patrick?" Dad suddenly speaks,
"When Lauren was born," He nodded, "I just remember a lot of chaos, some crying... That's it."
"Yeah, that's sounds about right, you were only, God at least four or three when she died." More silence disturbed us as we continued to eat, this was a lot to take in, I realized. I noticed how sensitive my parents got when I asked about Daisy; they must've been good friends with her.
"You mentioned something about Luigi's bad habits? What did you mean by that?" I returned to the other answer he gave me,
"Issues. More death." Dad summed it up,
"Who else died?" Marc finally chimed in, Dad gave him a weird look,
"Socko."
"Who?" My brother and I said at the same time, Dad rolled his eyes,
"Alex's father." Alex was kind of the adopted son of the whole family. He and his mom, Annie, live at the Sarasaland palace; where Lauren and Uncle Luigi live. Technically, he's the Godson of Luigi and the friend of Lauren but that gets too confusing. Everybody loves Alex because he's pretty much perfect and got into an Ivy League school. We don't see the kid as much for that reason, he usually comes around during holidays or when he's on break. And boy, when he's around, you will be laughing until you nearly die. Oh, the irony...
"Woah, wait the Australian dude in some of the pictures at Luigi's house?" Marc says,
"Yes. How did you know he's Australian?" Dad points out,
"I asked Luigi once who it was and he was also wearing the Australian flag on his shirt." Mom and Dad glared at each other for a second,
"You asked him about Socko?" Marc suddenly looked like he saw a ghost,
"Yeah, why?"
"What did he say?" Dad asked seriously,
"Nothing he just told me who it was. I was a kid okay?"
"That's strange you brought it up because that's one way to make my brother pissed off; is to ask about Socko."
"Huh, he seemed alright when I asked him."
"That's what he wants you to think." Dad mutters, "Boys, you don't even know who Socko is because he died years ago. Socko was Luigi's best friend until some bastard decided to take him away from him."
"Take him away how?"
"Socko was murdered back in 2010, it left your uncle in a mess... For lack of better terms." I guess that's where the whole "bad habits" come into play then?
"That's awful." Marc frowns,
"Yeah, I think the part that screws Luigi over the most is the fact Socko died in front of his eyes. He couldn't stop it."
"Stop what, Dad?" Our father had Marc's full attention and mine, while mom listened quietly to a story I'm sure she's heard and told too many times. But yet, somehow the hurt still lingers in her blue eyes.
"The bleeding. Socko was trying to protect Luigi from a gun pointed at him... So, he pushed him out of the way. It was a gun wound." My heart saddened even more, I felt bad for my uncle, who I know has been through Hell.
"I can't imagine what he went through." I say, cleaning up my plate, Dad shook his head,
"No one really does, not even me. I tried to help him, I did, but the kid just kind of checked out after the funeral. Sometimes I truly wonder what has him still going after all this time," That is true, how has my uncle survived? "So, the moral of this story is that Luigi has been in some deep crap and I'm sure he can be more help than I can, Patrick." Trying to understand my Dad's words can be difficult sometimes, so, I guess I'll just have to go see Luigi to actually get the big picture.
...
I found Uncle Luigi messing around in his garage; most likely fixing his beloved Mustang he never drives.
"Hey Luigi!" I give a small grin, he turned around instantly and I saw his face lighten up a bit.
"Patrick, how you are you?" He must've noticed my hesitance to reply because he then says, "I heard what happened to your girlfriend. I'm sorry." I looked up at him,
"Doing the best I can, thanks."
"So, what brings you here?" Luigi was always immediately to the point unlike my Dad, who occasionally drags out conversations.
"I'm just looking for some advice is all." Luigi gives me a funny look,
"So, you came to see me?" He grins a bit, I assumed this doesn't happen a lot to him; people asking him for guidance.
"Yeah, my parents weren't much help to see the big picture." He leans against the car, waiting for me to continue, " You see, Sydney overdosed on sleeping pills and I just don't know what to do because she seemed alright when I dropped her off-
"Slow down, Champ. I wasn't aware it was suicide, Patrick, all I knew is that she passed away." He offered me a Lemonade from his mini fridge, opening the can I nod,
"Yes, she's gone and she seemed off when we went out to dinner a few nights ago."
"How so?"
"I asked her what is wrong and she said a lot in going on inside her head."
"I'm not following." Luigi listened attentively as I talked about my dead lover, and by the time I was done, I was almost close to tears again. I felt a strong arm wrap around my shoulders. "From what I can tell, obviously you're beating yourself up over this. And that's not healthy, Patrick... Trust me, I know." I finally gathered enough strength to talk again,
"How do you mean?" I knew I was gonna regret this the moment the words slipped out of my mouth. Luigi took a long swing of his Lemonade before answering,
"I've been in Sydney's shoes before to say the least."
"You mean you've actually tried to..." My words rolled off,
"Yes. Three times." My stomach dropped at least five feet, so this is what Dad meant by "bad habits". I was at a loss for words before he spoke again, "It really took off, the depression, after my best friend was killed. The second was out of pure misery, and the third.. Well the third was when I lost my wife. I saw no way out.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Luigi, I just-
"It's not your fault I'm messed up, kid." My Uncle having Depression was something I did not consider lightly; he is practically my second father. I looked over my uncle silently; how could someone so wise, so smart be so cruel to himself? I can't picture how this effected my dad.
"I wish I had try to save Sydney." I suddenly say,
"You couldn't have. You didn't know it was going to happen." He argues,
"But the way she was acting should have given me a hint! I should've known, she told me everything..."
"Or she didn't. Look, either way, you couldn't have predicted the future. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding on but you know what keeps me going?" I shrug, not knowing the answer, "my family, Patrick. After I... I lost Daisy, that was it, I thought that hurting myself was the only way out. I was in way over my head but my brother pulled me back from the edge. So did Lauren. It would've been selfish of me to leave Lauren an orphan. I refuse to leave her by herself, she's still so young. Now, Sydney, I can't really tell you because I didn't know her very well but I would think she would want you to be happy." I roll my eyes,
"How the hell am I supposed to be happy when my source of happiness is gone?" I grew frustrated,
"Patrick, calm down. Listen to me, and listen good, it wasn't your fault. It could've been multiple reasons that she left, simply because Depression is so unpredictable. You said she had a lot on her mind, right? It very well could've been an internal struggle, most of the time it is. I can guarantee you were her light, she could've been having a hard time else where." It was starting to make more sense the more I listened, I guess Luigi had a point. Depression comes in all variations. I knew better than to question him since he knew first hand but, I had to ask,
"What did you do about it?" I wiped away the tears from my cheeks that I didn't know were coming down. He patted my back and said,
"I got help. It was hard at first to explain myself, I really didn't want to but when I did, I felt a little better. I felt alone in my struggles for years but I turned to my family and friends to support me. And that's where I am now, anytime I feel like all hell will spill loose, I simply go to my brother."
"Why not Lauren?"
"She's only 13, Patrick, I am not going to lay such heavy crap on my kid. It would've been too much for her, she's perfectly fine not knowing yet." He answered that seriously. I hugged him before I left, already feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.
...
It was weeks later Sydney's parents contacted me again, this time because they apparently had something to give me. I now stand in my room with an envelope addressed to me, and my heart nearly stopped when I opened it and read who it was from:
My dearest Patrick,
There is time where I thought this would all pass but I knew eventually it would kill me. So, I wrote it down instead: if you are reading this then I'm no longer around. I wasn't being honest with you for a long time, I'm so sorry. You were the constant in my life, the light burned so very bright for me, I almost saw the light at the end of this ugly ass tunnel. As I write this, I want you to know that none of this will ever be your fault. Never. I knew I didn't deserve your love the moment we said hello. But you chose to love me anyways and I thank you eternally for that.
I wanted to come on so many journeys with you and I have but my time is cut close. My brain has won, my dear. I know you will try to put this all on yourself, please don't. If I'm being honest with you then you should know that I love you. The pressure became too much at school, and I knew I checked out after second semester. I will not bear you with details of the cruelty I've spent over the last eight months. You don't deserve it. This was a personal choice, I knew it the moment I took the medication. I know you made me a promise, you said "we will figure it out, just like we always do." I promise that one day, when the hurt has passed, I hope you can find your way back to me. We will be together again someday, I promise you.
my king , my love, my light
Sydney
Phew! Finally finished this! I started this damn thing at 10 am this morning and currently it is 6:53 pm, EST! Please leave a review if you liked it!
I wanted an important message behind this story: You are not alone.
Also check out my other story that will clear up some of the other nonsense in this one: Never Surrender - goes into greater detail about why Daisy died. Please give any other stories a once-over; I will warn you they are very old and lack professionalism lol!
- Don't be the one person who didn't read the A/N at the top and tell me this was too harsh. Read!
- Love love love,
Jax!