They say a picture's worth a thousand words. All my life, I heard that expression. I don't know what the hell it's supposed to mean. I have plenty of pictures. I have pictures of everyone I cared about who left me. And I'd give anything, anything at all, just for one more word with any of them.
All my pictures of Bobby are with me. Most likely because we spent so much time together. We basically did everything together for a few years there. Then, the year before he got really sick, he thought he was too cool to hang out with me anymore. He made other friends in his class, and I saw him less. But he was still Bobby, and he still shared a room with me. We could have had separate rooms. My family sure had the money for it. But while I was going through my scared of the dark phase, I wanted Bobby with me, to protect me. And we stayed together after that. Even when we didn't hang out, or go places...the night was still ours. I could tell Bobby about anything. I even told him when my baseball broke the back window. Mom blamed our gardener, and neither Bobby nor I ever corrected her. Bobby protected me from bullies too. I didn't get picked on a lot, but when I did, it was bad. Bobby wasn't very big or strong, no bigger than I was anyway, but something about him made any schoolyard bully run away. He was my best friend, my double. We were identical, and when he got sick, Mom and Dad saw him in me. It made me angry. I didn't want to be seen as him, because he was sick and dying, and all I wanted was my twin back. He changed a lot when he was sick, especially in the hospital. He was awful to me, but I didn't care so much. Because he was still there. I don't tell a lot of people we were twins, because I don't want them to look at me and see Bobby. I know what he would have looked like had he lived, he would have looked like me. Bobby was going to be a baseball star, or so he said. He was my protector, the braver of the two. Odd that he became the weaker, wasting away in a hospital bed, while I became what I am today.
But when Bobby died, no one was there to protect me from the dark, the bullies, the monsters hiding in my closet...they all came back when Bobby wasn't around. No matter how old I got, they stuck around. Because I didn't have my brother to protect me anymore.
All my pictures of Bobby are with me. Most likely because we spent so much time together. We basically did everything together for a few years there. Then, the year before he got really sick, he thought he was too cool to hang out with me anymore. He made other friends in his class, and I saw him less. But he was still Bobby, and he still shared a room with me. We could have had separate rooms. My family sure had the money for it. But while I was going through my scared of the dark phase, I wanted Bobby with me, to protect me. And we stayed together after that. Even when we didn't hang out, or go places...the night was still ours. I could tell Bobby about anything. I even told him when my baseball broke the back window. Mom blamed our gardener, and neither Bobby nor I ever corrected her. Bobby protected me from bullies too. I didn't get picked on a lot, but when I did, it was bad. Bobby wasn't very big or strong, no bigger than I was anyway, but something about him made any schoolyard bully run away. He was my best friend, my double. We were identical, and when he got sick, Mom and Dad saw him in me. It made me angry. I didn't want to be seen as him, because he was sick and dying, and all I wanted was my twin back. He changed a lot when he was sick, especially in the hospital. He was awful to me, but I didn't care so much. Because he was still there. I don't tell a lot of people we were twins, because I don't want them to look at me and see Bobby. I know what he would have looked like had he lived, he would have looked like me. Bobby was going to be a baseball star, or so he said. He was my protector, the braver of the two. Odd that he became the weaker, wasting away in a hospital bed, while I became what I am today.
But when Bobby died, no one was there to protect me from the dark, the bullies, the monsters hiding in my closet...they all came back when Bobby wasn't around. No matter how old I got, they stuck around. Because I didn't have my brother to protect me anymore.
