Disclaimer- Not Mine.
Author Notes- Peanut, who was my normal beta reader, sorry for not running these by you, but I was so thrilled to actually finish the story I just posted it. Hope this is to everyone's liking!
Chapter 19- Cry (Marks' POV)
Randy never woke up. He died on our couch at 7:30 pm while we were having dinner. Trying to arrange a funeral, I never knew so much was involved. Wilson and Al have been really helpful to us. I'm grateful, we could use all the help we can get. Since we're all reacting to his death in our own way, it makes organizing difficult. Mom, she cries a lot. Anything could set her off. A photo, a word, even the sight or smell of something could make her burst into tears. Dad's turned into mister serious. Its weird to see Mr. Jokester not joking around. He's serious all the time, he doesn't laugh or smile, or crack jokes anymore. Wilson said its the grieving process. Brad, he's all but reclusive. I can't blame him though, I feel bad for him. He cried when he found out he had died. Sometimes at night when I can't sleep, I take to walking the hallways and I can hear his muffled sobs. As for me? I don't feel much of anything. Its like I'm empty. Mom says its probably shock. I was the one who realized he was gone. After dinner on that fateful night I had gone in to check on him. He looked so peaceful. *To* peaceful. I remember gently reaching out and touching his hand. He was already cold. I think I screamed, because everyone ran in then. What happened after that, I don't know, its all kind of a blur. I vaguely remember the paramedics, and Wilson, and eventually Al as well. I think I stood with Brad when they took him away. I remember his tears. I didn't cry, I still haven't. I'm afraid, if I start, I might never stop.
"Mark..." I look up into Wilson's kind eyes.
"Wilson....when..."
"I've been here most of the after noon." I feel his hand curl around my shoulder and squeeze lightly.
"Wilson...I-" I stop, unsure of how to proceed.
"Why haven't you cried yet Mark?"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just can't." Wilson regards me in silence for a few moments, while both of us stare out at the animated discussion going on in the kitchen between my parents.
"Its okay to cry for him Mark. He was your brother, you loved him. I'm not saying you should grieve forever, certainly not. However, I do think you have to let some form of your grief out. If you can't cry, however you express grief, do it that way, but don't hold it in to long, you'll never be able to let him go if you do."
"I don't want to let him go Wilson....what if I forget him?" Wilson's eyes clearly read what he was thinking, and his kind smile almost hurt me to see, he understood perfectly what I was trying to say even if it wasn't coming out right.
"You won't forget him Mark. It won't always hurt this much. Eventually, the pain will fade, but that won't mean you've forgotten him. It just means you can move on with your life." With that, he smiles one last time and stands, leaving me with my thoughts. After a few moments, I stand and join my parents in the discussion about the flowers that should be at his funeral.
************************************************************
Brad and I are growing closer. Its a natural thing I suppose, since Randy died, we've started hanging out more, talking more, and appreciating each other more. In fact, the whole family has become a closer knit unit. I always thought we were a close family, though at times it kinda felt like I was on the fringes until someone let me back in, but I realize now that was never the case. I put myself on the fringes, and had no one to blame but myself for being there. As horrible as it is for me to say, Randy's death was not totally in vain. Through his death, he showed us that just because you die, doesn't mean your forgotten or your life never happened or mattered. Randy will always live on with our family, and he'll always be a part of us. When people ask me how many siblings I have, I still say two, because in my heart, I do.
Author Notes- Peanut, who was my normal beta reader, sorry for not running these by you, but I was so thrilled to actually finish the story I just posted it. Hope this is to everyone's liking!
Chapter 19- Cry (Marks' POV)
Randy never woke up. He died on our couch at 7:30 pm while we were having dinner. Trying to arrange a funeral, I never knew so much was involved. Wilson and Al have been really helpful to us. I'm grateful, we could use all the help we can get. Since we're all reacting to his death in our own way, it makes organizing difficult. Mom, she cries a lot. Anything could set her off. A photo, a word, even the sight or smell of something could make her burst into tears. Dad's turned into mister serious. Its weird to see Mr. Jokester not joking around. He's serious all the time, he doesn't laugh or smile, or crack jokes anymore. Wilson said its the grieving process. Brad, he's all but reclusive. I can't blame him though, I feel bad for him. He cried when he found out he had died. Sometimes at night when I can't sleep, I take to walking the hallways and I can hear his muffled sobs. As for me? I don't feel much of anything. Its like I'm empty. Mom says its probably shock. I was the one who realized he was gone. After dinner on that fateful night I had gone in to check on him. He looked so peaceful. *To* peaceful. I remember gently reaching out and touching his hand. He was already cold. I think I screamed, because everyone ran in then. What happened after that, I don't know, its all kind of a blur. I vaguely remember the paramedics, and Wilson, and eventually Al as well. I think I stood with Brad when they took him away. I remember his tears. I didn't cry, I still haven't. I'm afraid, if I start, I might never stop.
"Mark..." I look up into Wilson's kind eyes.
"Wilson....when..."
"I've been here most of the after noon." I feel his hand curl around my shoulder and squeeze lightly.
"Wilson...I-" I stop, unsure of how to proceed.
"Why haven't you cried yet Mark?"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just can't." Wilson regards me in silence for a few moments, while both of us stare out at the animated discussion going on in the kitchen between my parents.
"Its okay to cry for him Mark. He was your brother, you loved him. I'm not saying you should grieve forever, certainly not. However, I do think you have to let some form of your grief out. If you can't cry, however you express grief, do it that way, but don't hold it in to long, you'll never be able to let him go if you do."
"I don't want to let him go Wilson....what if I forget him?" Wilson's eyes clearly read what he was thinking, and his kind smile almost hurt me to see, he understood perfectly what I was trying to say even if it wasn't coming out right.
"You won't forget him Mark. It won't always hurt this much. Eventually, the pain will fade, but that won't mean you've forgotten him. It just means you can move on with your life." With that, he smiles one last time and stands, leaving me with my thoughts. After a few moments, I stand and join my parents in the discussion about the flowers that should be at his funeral.
************************************************************
Brad and I are growing closer. Its a natural thing I suppose, since Randy died, we've started hanging out more, talking more, and appreciating each other more. In fact, the whole family has become a closer knit unit. I always thought we were a close family, though at times it kinda felt like I was on the fringes until someone let me back in, but I realize now that was never the case. I put myself on the fringes, and had no one to blame but myself for being there. As horrible as it is for me to say, Randy's death was not totally in vain. Through his death, he showed us that just because you die, doesn't mean your forgotten or your life never happened or mattered. Randy will always live on with our family, and he'll always be a part of us. When people ask me how many siblings I have, I still say two, because in my heart, I do.