Later that night, after the family returned from the funeral, everyone gathered in the dining room for some desert and to reflect upon the day. Epstein sat there, refused to look at anyone, and did not touch a single bite of his food. When one of his siblings asked him if he was ok, he simply stood up and left the room.
Slowly and in a zombie like state, Epstein entered the family room. He looked all around the room as though he was confused by his surroundings. He walked over to one side of the room where a collection of framed photographs were arranged on a small table. He picked up one of his mother and gently grazed his fingers over it. Clutching the frame to his chest, he then carried it with him as he walked around the room. He made his way to the middle of the room and sank down to the floor. There he sat, looking at the picture of his mother.
Flashes of the accident filled his mind. He took in a panicked breath and clutched the picture closer to him. He rocked a little and squeezed his eyes closed. Memories of the past few days and of the funeral rushed to him all at once. Suddenly, he smashed the picture on the floor in front of him. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and let out a gut-wrenching scream.
His family rushed to his side and immediately tried to calm him down. He didn't seem to notice any of them as he let out another scream. His whole body shook as he let out sobs and became flooded with tears. He was completely inconsolable for the next half hour. His father held him close while his siblings looked on helplessly as he sobbed uncontrollably in his father's arms.
Sitting all alone in his bedroom, Epstein sat on his bed, staring off into space. He still had his suit on from the funeral, minus the jacket. It didn't even occur to him to turn on a light to avoid sitting in a dark room. Nor did he care about the darkness. All he had with him were his pets in their cages, and his thoughts.
One of his brothers entered the room and walked over to him. Epstein glanced up at him, still in a bit of a daze from his breakdown. His brother handed him a glass of water.
"Here, Juan. Thought you could use it."
"Thanks." Epstein said quietly as he accepted the glass. He slowly took a sip of water.
"Glad you're speaking again. Mind if I sit with you?"
Epstein shrugged. "Go ahead."
His brother sat next to him. "I hope you'll be ok, Juan. I mean this is hard on all of us. We're all going through this together. But it's really hard to see you like this." Epstein looked at him. "I was scared for you when you came home after the accident. Then you wouldn't talk to nobody for days. Barely did anything for yourself. Fran practically had to dress you today. Then you had that breakdown… Well I… I never felt worse for you. I was so scared watching you go through that and not knowing what to do. Nobody did. Pop was the one who finally got you to calm down."
Epstein sat quietly as he listened. He sipped on his water. "I don't remember anything from the last few days." He spoke quietly. "Nothing felt real to me. It still doesn't. I feel like this has been one long… bad dream and I still can't wake up from it." He looked at his brother. "Do you know what I mean?"
"I guess. Maybe not quite the same as you. It sure hasn't been easy the past few days. I feel like it's going to be tough for a while."
"Yeah… well… thank you for talking to me. Sorry if I've been a pain in the ass. Or if everybody's been worried about me. I'll ah… I'll pull through this." He rubbed his eyes. "What time is it anyway?"
His brother looked at his watch. "Almost midnight."
"Midnight… what day?"
"Friday. Well in about ten minutes it will be Saturday."
"Man…" Epstein sighed. "I've really been out of it."
"Are you going to be ok now?"
"Man I hope so." He took a sip of water. "No guarantees."
"I hope you will, Juan. I need my big brother. I know, I know, I've got plenty others. But I really look up to you. And I know you need all of us too."
Epstein nodded and then looked at the glass in his hand. "I do." He sighed. "You have no idea."
…
The next morning, Epstein shuffled downstairs, still in a bit of a zombie state from not much sleep. Wrapped around his shoulders was the blanket his mother had made for him. He said nothing to anyone as he walked to the kitchen. He entered the kitchen and saw his sister, Fran, in the middle of cooking.
"Oh… hey ma." He said, seeming out of it.
Fran sighed, stiffening a little. "I'm Fran."
"Yeah, yeah." He waved her off and then walked to the refrigerator. He grabbed the handle and opened the door to peek inside. After standing there for a minute or two, staring at the contents of the refrigerator, his sister startled him by closing the door.
"Juan, you're making it cold in here."
"Sorry."
"You looking for something?"
He shrugged "I dunno. I guess. I'm just hungry."
"No doubt. You haven't eaten much the past couple days. I'm making breakfast for everyone. It'll be ready in a few minutes. Can you wait until then?"
"I guess. Yeah. I'll just grab a quick bite while I wait."
He walked over to the counter where a fruit bowl sat. He took out a couple pieces of fruit and then headed into the dining room. He went over to his usual seat and plopped down into it with a heavy sigh. As he started eating, he knew that this, and the breakfast his sister was making already was not going to be enough food for him. He didn't want to think about it, but he knew it was starting. He already knew food was going to comfort him like it always had. There was no way he was going to fight it. He had no energy to fight. All he could do was sit back and accept it. His depression had begun.
A few minutes later, Fran entered the dining room and called everyone to the table. As soon as everyone sat down, breakfast was served. Epstein picked up his plate and started piling food on it. Fran watched him, frowning the whole time. She shook her head sadly, the moment she realized what was happening with her brother.
"Juan." She said with a warning tone.
He looked at her, pausing the piling of food onto his plate.
"Don't take too much. Not everyone has gotten any yet."
"Oh… sure. Sorry."
He took a little more food before passing the dishes to his siblings. As he started eating, he leaned back some in his chair. He wrapped the blanket tighter around him, starting to feel a little emotional.
"Juan are you ok?" Fran asked
"Fine, fine. I will be." He sighed and closed his eyes before continuing to eat.
Fran shook her head sadly and then leaned in closer to their father. "Pop…" She whispered "I know it's early, but I'm getting concerned about Juan." She motioned to her brother. "I worry he's going to start eating like he does when he's upset."
"Looks like he's already started with all that food." Their father looked at him. "Juan, mijo, think you might want to slow down on the food a bit?"
Epstein looked up at him. "Huh?"
"You're eating quite a bit there. Just watch yourself, mijo."
Epstein looked at his plate. He felt redness rush to his cheeks. He slouched in his chair, feeling eyes upon him from everyone else in the room. He never felt more uncomfortable. At first, he tried to avoid eating. He picked at the food on his plate, moving it around a little. He knew that everyone was watching him, judging him for the amount of food he was eating.
Guilt started washing all over him. He desperately wanted to hide from the eyes that were on him. The only way he could do that was if he got up and left the room. But he didn't want to do that because if he did that meant he had to leave his food behind. He was hungry, so the idea of leaving food behind made him uncomfortable.
He let out a sigh and picked up his fork. A bit shaky, he scooped up some food and then ate it. As soon as he did, all thoughts of being judged left him. He started to relax. Taking another bite, he let the rest of his family fade away. He needed this food to help him get through the rest of the morning. The more he ate, the better he felt.
Soon, his food was gone. He wanted more but wasn't sure if he wanted to get some more in front of his siblings. After a brief internal battle, he grabbed some food and began filling his plate, partly out of spite, again.
Fran watched him and frowned. She reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.
"Juan stop."
He looked at her, a mixture of emotions in his eyes. "What?"
"I think that's more than enough food." She said with a motherly, stern tone. "You've already eaten a lot. You're going to make yourself sick."
He frowned at her and pulled his wrist away. "I'm fine!"
"Juan," she warned "You've had enough. You don't need to keep eating."
"You can't tell me when I've had enough to eat!" He started piling more food onto his plate.
"Juan, please. You don't need to keep eating. Please stop."
"Franny." He looked her in the eyes. He was upset, but much more pain and sadness shone through his eyes than anything else. "Please don't make a big deal about this. I'll stop. But right now I need this. You know it helps me feel better. I mean I'll be able to control myself like I always do. Please, Franny." A lump formed in his throat and his eyes were beginning to gloss over with tears. "Please." He said quietly. "Just let me eat right now."
She sighed, not wanting to give in. Her heart broke for her brother. "Ok. Fine. Keep eating, Juan." She said sadly. "But please, promise me you'll control yourself."
He was silent as he looked away. He swallowed, trying to push back the lump in his throat. "I can't lie. I know it'll be really hard this time. But I… I'm going to try my best. I promise I will find some way to control myself."
"Ok." She said, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Juan. I can't help looking after you. You're my little brother and I can tell you're going to have a real hard time getting through all this. But just remember, Juan. You don't have to suffer alone. You've got all of us here going through this with you."
He sat still, reflectively for a few seconds before nodding his head. "I know. But… please don't make me feel worse for eating right now. You know I can't help it when I get like this."
"I know. I'm sorry, Juan." She stood up. "I'll leave you alone."
She picked up her dishes and left the dining room. Many of their siblings and their father soon followed suit.
Epstein continued to eat as he watched his family get up and leave the room one-by-one. Once everyone else had left, taking their empty dishes with them, Epstein remained in his seat. Slowly, tears began rolling down his face. He stared into his plate of food as he ate. It didn't take long before he finished his food. By that point, he looked up and saw food still remaining on the table. He knew he was going to regret it, but he still couldn't help but snatch up all the rest of the food. As he kept eating, tears started falling faster. He struggled to hold himself together as he ate. The more he ate, the worse he felt. He started crying harder. Soon he realized he had finished all the rest of the food that was on the table. He felt sick to his stomach and riddled with guilty, hateful feelings towards himself. All he could do then was sit there and cry.
