“Home… Home is different without you,” I shrug.
Once we’re outside the doors of our house, the noise is completely overwhelming. You’re able
to hear every word that our parents are saying, every action they’re doing, everything. Bits and
pieces of sentences stick out more than others.
“Are Mom and Dad always like this now?” he murmurs disbelievingly.
“They’ve never been the same after the cable car accident.” In fact, now they want to shut
down the whole tourist site. It must feel like a wound getting ripped open again and again, having
to see the thing that killed their son every single day.
“They’re fighting because of me. You feel guilty too don’t you?” The tightness in my chest
increases. It was my fault. He fell because he listened to me.
“I never blamed you, you know?” he whispers. I squeeze my eyes shut. Stop. I don’t want to
think about it. Can’t I just have one happy day with him, even if it isn’t real?
“Listen. You need to understand that I never blamed you or Mom or Dad. You survived but
my death was not your fault. You taunted me, but I accepted the dare. I should never have tried to
stand up on that cable car. I was never like you. I make stupid, reckless mistakes and that time, it
took my life.” Shaking my head, I cover my ears trying to block out his voice. I don’t want to hear
the reality of things. I don’t want to hear his comfort. I don’t want this to become real or I know
he’ll be gone.
“Listen. You can’t pretend that I didn’t die. Sometimes you have to learn to move on.
Sometimes you just can’t dodge the problem.”
“Stop.”
“Listen. Please! I love you, so you can’t make me worry. You can’t dwell on the dead and forget
about the people still here!” I shut my eyes.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” I murmur. There’s no reply but I know the answer and he does too.
I always knew it; I could just never admit it to myself. Dead people don’t just come back to life.
“Again,” my voice is tinted with pain and longing. One day. One day is all I get with him
for closure.
“I’m…” his voice breaks.
“Please don’t go…” I sound pathetic. I know it’s useless.
“I’m so sorry I’m not able to protect you. That’s what brothers are supposed to do aren’t they?”
“I’m happy though.” I’m crying.
“I’m happy that I got to say goodbye.” I never wanted to say goodbye.
“I’m finally free.” Freedom is the glory of not being bound, lost is the condemnation of not
being bound and now, I’ve never felt more lost.
“Don’t worry. I may always have been the musical one of the family, but you’ve always been
the strong one.” I’m not strong.
“I love you.” I open my eyes. I’m in my bed. Was I dreaming? No. No! He’s still here! He can’t
be gone. That can’t have all been a dream. Everything was too real. Everything was far too close
to reality.
Sprinting and sprinting, I run back to the singing sand dunes. He’ll be there. He said he’d
always be there for me. Did he lie? My heart is racing.
Empty. No one is there. Was it all in my head?
Echoing through the desert, the melody of the singing of the sand dunes. On the sand, footprints…
