It's been a week. A long tired, no baseball-playing week. Allie is gone. He's just gone and it's weird, I keep thinking he'll just show up with his goofy smile and all but he hasn't and life is just turning into something of a mess. I feel like a big ol' bastard for not protecting him. Why should a little innocent kid be taken from a world he just got to, it kills me, it really does. It's just hard to understand why the world is the way it is. Why do bad things happen to good people? Allie was just a boy -he didn't deserve to die. He didn't deserve to get a fatal disease. I just don't see why a good person has the back luck. There are many other people in this world who deserve to die. The ones who cause pain on others. Those are the people who should be taken from the world 'cause they like to cause a whole pile of trouble for everyone. With them gone, people and kids would be safe from those morons and phonies.
I feel like a damn moron myself, just sitting here having no idea how to handle the crying and hugging that's going on between my family. I am an outsider when it comes to my family. Ol' Phoebe though, is handling this a lot better than I am. Phoebe is a strong little girl, but she's not invincible. If it wasn't for her I would have skipped up and out of this place after I heard the news of Allie but she deserved to have her big brother around for a shoulder to cry on.
My older brother, the writer, is having a hard time too now that Allie's gone. I can't help him though. He's a man now and a man has to be able to protect the young ones from pain and trouble. He's supposed to make me feel better but here I am, telling him that everything will be alright. My family is a wreck and I know Allie would have hated us for acting like such wimps.
I can't stand another second with my family for the fact that I might start bawling like a baby, seeing them all cry and holding a picture of Allie. I start heading to my room but I pause in front of Allie's room. The door's closed, no one's been inside since the day we took him to the hospital. I'm standing here trying to remember the good ol' times I had with Allie but none are popping into my head. This is depressing the hell out of me. I walk forward to the door and open it and slip inside before my family can see. I close the door and face towards his room. Every thing's the way I remember it. The bed was unmade, the covers at the foot of the bed. His toys are scattered across the floor and his closet was full of all his clothes he hated to wear. I walked to his bed and sat down taking hold of his pillow.
To tell you the truth I wanted to just sit there and cry my eyes out but no tears would come. If there was a time to cry, it should have been right now. I look around, taking in what use to be his whole life, and lying in the corner of the room is a baseball bat, ball and a glove. Allie's left- handed baseball glove. I walk over and take it into my hands. It's covered in green ink in Allie's handwriting. He would get bored when in the outfield during a game so he thought it would be a good idea to write poems on it so he won't be as bored. The days of teaching him how to play baseball in a place like the field of rye enters my mind and there's Allie, smiles and all. I remember how quickly he got the hang of the game. He looks like his ol' self and I felt like he was really there next to me I swear it did. Goddamn, I'm crying now but I don't care. I miss Allie and his witty ideas. I miss him being the kid he was. I miss my little brother and it's killing me. I wipe my eyes, hoping no one will notice my tear streaked face, and head towards the door, Allie's glove held tightly in my hand. Even though Allie's gone I have this glove to always remind me of the memories that I shared with my happy go lucky brother.
