9 Years earlier
After Jake moved away, we didn't hear much from him or Tommy. In a way it was the same as it had always been. Mom worried, because we had no clue what he was doing in the City and he was hard to reach. Tommy was incredibly busy. I didn't do much besides studying for my exams and mom worked almost day and night.
Half a year passed like that and I didn't hear from my brothers. The date of Tommy's departure was nearing. He was going to visit us four days before leaving for Pandora. Mom had managed to persuade Jake to come as well. Despite the unbearable atmosphere the last time we had all been together, I was kind of looking forward to the day. It was a change from the mundane routine of everyday life.
But, as usual, things didn't go as planned. A week before Tommy's departure we received a message from the RDA. Mom stood in our little apartment and stared at the wall for almost an hour. She didn't cry. She didn't say a word. She didn't look at me. It was only at night, lying in bed, that I heard her choke with sobs. Then, finally, I was able to cry as well. But I wasn't sure what I was crying for. For the death of a brother, or for the destruction of his dreams, or for the crumbling apart of my family. Maybe it was none of that. Maybe what I was really crying for, was my own life, which seemed so utterly hopeless in a world like that.
The next day we got a message from Jake, telling us that the RDA had offered him to go to Pandora in Tommy's place. Now he was the one who was leaving. I envied him. I envied him for being able to leave all this behind. And I hated him a little for it, too. For leaving mom and me, for taking Tommy's place, for not visiting before he left. All we got was short phone call the day before he left. A quick "I'm sorry about Tommy. I'm sorry for not visiting." And a casual "Love you too.".
Then he was gone and we were all alone. Not that we hadn't already been alone before, but it still felt different. It felt like mom and I were now all that was left of the family. Or maybe all there had ever been.
Which was why, when I started University and the handsome guy sitting next to me in my very first lecture asked me if I had any brothers or sisters, I said No.
"You're an only child?" The guy, whose name was Patrick, asked.
"Yes," I said and smiled.
"Me too," he said.
And to my surprise, it was easy. It was the easiest thing I had done in a while.
Very short chapter, I know. But this story line is coming to an end and I don't want to unnecesarily blow it up, when the other line is obviously the main one by now.
