Now, I didn't have any brothers or sisters, but I never considered myself an only child. Drew was my brother, he filled that void. We shared everything that brothers do: laughter, tears, joys, sorrows, secrets... The only thing we never really shared was our lineage. Though underneath the skin, any doctor could tell you that we weren't brothers, but from the outside, that's exactly what we were. Brothers.
Our parents were best friends, and we were actually born only five days apart, in the same hospital. I was a big infant, and I had my father's dark hair. Drew, on the other hand, was a small child with fuzzy blonde hair that neither of his parents had. But we were both their pride and joys, always were.
I guess it was because of our parents that we first met. Our mothers used to walk us together, prams side-by-side as they chatted about this and that. They figured they would raise us as friends, but I don't think they'd figured we'd be as close as we were. Obviously, there was no telling at that age, but I think we became better friends than even our mothers.
All my life, I knew if I was going through something tough, so was he. We took our first steps around the same time, we teethed together, played together... Almost everything was never just Johnny or Drew, it was always Johnny and Drew.
When we got older, we went on adventures, tore up the town together. Built a tree house, read comic books, and even had a crush on the same girl. Of course, we may have been brothers, but we weren't exactly alike. Drew had always said that he wanted to get married someday, but I always thought I'd just date girls. I guess we stayed true to that.
Even our career choices were dissimilar, but both wanted to help people. I wanted to be a fireman, and Drew wanted to be a policeman. Together, we played games that incorporated these two careers, often forcing his younger sisters into role playing arsonists. We had such fun together, all though our grade school years. In middle school, we both had crushes on Grace Kelly. Though sometimes we had differences and went our separate ways, Drew and I were always together.
We both did track in high school. He also played football. I began taking different girls out every weekend, but Drew mainly just took girls to dances. Well, until juinor year when he met Pam. Long story short, she became his steady date.
Senior year, Drew told me he'd kind of like to marry Pam. I just shrugged it off, but he proposed on graduation day and they got married that summer. Pam turned out not knowing how to cook, or anything, but Drew was a good husband and was kind and patient. He once told me he didn't care if he'd never come home to a hot meal, as long as Pam was there when he got home. They were so crazy about each other that I couldn't help but to be happy for them. Greatly happy.
Drew went to and graduated from the law enforcement academy as did I of the fireman's academy. Pam threw us a big party for our graduation with all of our family and friends there. It was then they announced that they were expecting a first child. I was shocked at first, but Drew was happy, so I was, too.
I had just gotten home from work when Drew called me up from the hospital. He told me he was the proud father of a little girl, Louisa Grace. Despite how tired I was, I immediately drove down to the hospital to see my first 'neice'.
She looked so beautiful, wrapped up in a little pink blanket, sleeping peacefully as Drew rocked her. I thought that it would be awkward for me to see Drew become a father, but it just seemed so natural suddenly and I felt blissfully happy for the both of them.
I beacame a paramedic, and thanks to my new buddy, Roy, I adopted in another niece and a nephew. Drew and Pam were so tied up with their lives and little Louisa, that I heard from them less and less. But even so, Drew never forgot to call me on my birthday.
Things were going seemingly great for the both of us. We were happy and successful, but even more importantly, still best friends. But all good things come to an end, I suppose.
Drew died.
I was called to the scene, and it was bad. The radio was all tied up, we couldn't get him help in time... My brother died, right there, right in front of me. My first reaction was to blame the radio, blame the doctors and nurses, but after I was assured none of those factors could have made any difference, my views began to change. Was I the one to blame? Did Drew die because of me? Had the sight of my best friend, my brother, laying there, dying, cause me to work ineffectively? Though I knew the answer was no, I couldn't get over it.
I think about Drew every day. It may not seem like it, but it's true. I can't get the image of his lifeless form or mourning family out of my mind. I can't say I've really had the chance to mourn him myself. Roy's my good friend, but he's not my brother. My brother is gone.
I guess maybe I am an only child after all.