"Hey, Tom, let's go! Hurry up!" Tom's my brother, two years younger than me, and four years less mature. "We're gonna be late for dinner!" Tom's lagging behind. Again. He sits on the swing, his hands holding onto the dull metal chains, his feet kicking the ground, trying to swing himself. "Come on!" He pays no attention to me. Instead he sticks his tongue out, spraying dorps of spit onto the sand below.
"Push me one more tiiiiiime! Pleeeeaaase!" He wines at me. He's done this before. He won't come even if I do push him. It would still take a while before he returns with me. But pushing him speeds up the process of the walk home. Slightly.
I walk over and push him on the swing.
Up. Down. Up. Down. He screeches in delight as he goes back and forth in the swing. I push him harder, faster. He laughs. Then I stop. He whines about it, the jumps off, touching my shoulder and yelling "You're It!"
I chase Tom around the park for a minute before I catch him. "Let's go. Supper's going to be cold by the time we get home." Tom finally stops playing around and steps behind me. I begin to walk home and he follows me. In only a few minutes we're home.
***
"Mom. You forgot Tom's food again. It's in the kitchen, right?" Mom stares at me, an odd smile on her face. Then she reacts.
"Oh, yes, I'll go get it." She pulls a plate out from the cupboard and spoons out some of the extra casserol from the pot onto it. I take it from her and put it at Tom's spot at the table, under his unusually clean placemat, beside an even cleaner serviette.
We all sit down at the table, Mom at one end, Dad opposite her, and me and Tom across from each other. We say grace, then begin to eat. After a few minutes, Tom and I decide to go watch infront of the tv in my room. We don't eat much at the table anyway, so Mom lets us go, as long as we 'keep the room tidy'.
***
I end up finishing Tom's food for him. Again. He never really finishes his food anymore. Sometimes it looks like he didn't have any at all. Soon, Mom calls up that I should go to bed. "What about Tom?" is my reply. A short pause then Mom replies "Yeah. Him too." She sounds uncertain, but she's been doing that for a while. I turn off the light, and before I know it, Tom's asleep, before my head even hits the pillow. He's lucky about that.
***
It happened so fast. The swerving sound. Screech of tires. Black out. Then its all over.***
I wake up in the morning and Tom's already downstairs. I can hear him. I pull on a shirt from my dresser, and notice that Tom's dresser is closed. He never used to close it. I open it, and practically scream. All of his clothes are in there. He's wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Come to think of it, he's worn the same pair of clothes for a while now.
I head downstairs.
***
"Have fun at school," says Mom to me. Again, I reply "What about Tom?" Mom's facial expression is odd, but she quickly covers it up with a cheesey smile. "And Tom," she says in a nice voice.
Tom and I walk out the door, get on the bus that's waiting outside, say hello to the busdriver, who looks at us the same way he alsways does, with a goofy smile and crossed eyes. We sit down.
***
On the way home someone asks to sit beside Tom. "Excuse me? I'm here too. It's two to a seat. Tom's friend leaves with an odd look on his face. Everyone seems to be doing it these days. I don't no why. I ask Tom. He doesn't know either.
***
Same routine at home. Mom forgot dinner for Tom, I remind her to get Tom to bed. Same old, same old. Mom's losing it, I say to Tom. He just laughs, but says we should be more polite.
***
I'm in black clothes. Mom's crying. Dad stands with his hands together. We're silent, as a voice in the background drones on...***
I say hello to Dr Munroe. He says hi back to me. Tom isn't here, but he says something about him. I'm too tired to take it all in. He asks me a few questions, then talks to Mom. Then we go home.
I do my homework, then help Tom with his own. Mom and Dad watch us with the same old new look.
***
Me and Tom sit on two swings beside each other. It's after school on Monday, and we're just hanging out until we have to be at home. After a while of just sitting on the swings and moving back and forth I decide its time to go.
"Let's go," I say. For once, Tom okays me. We start to walk home.
***
Supper is grilled cheese. One of my favourites. Tom doesn't like it. Mom knows that. She doesn't set any out for him. He knows that he makes his own dinner on GC night.
We hit the sack early tonight. I've got a big day tommorrow, says Mom, so I need to rest. Tom goes to bed with me because he has nothing else to do.
***
There's a hole in the ground. A long wooden crate goes in. Goodbye Mike, says Mom...***
"What's up? What's the big day?" I ask Mom. She gives me a concerned look. "Tom, sweetie. Its the one year anniversary. Don't you remember. Huh. She's talking to Tom, not me. I walk away, waiting for my turn to get the talk.
"Where are you going Tom? I have to talk to you." I turn around. Tom stands there, not knowing what to do. Then Mom walks past him and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Tom. We need to talk sweetie." I look her in the eyes, then sit down on the couch. Mom sits next to me.
"You're father and I have noticed some, disturbing actiosn you've taken lately. Dr Munroe has noticed them too. Do you wan't to talk?"
No. I don't want to talk. She wants to talk with Tom, not me. "Mike's been dead for a year now Tom." The words cause tears to come up in my eyes. She's talking about me as if I'm dead. She's saying I am dead.
In the background Tom slowly dissapears from view. He walks towards the stairs, away from where I can see him. "Lately, it seem as though you think you're Mike. But sweetie, your name is Tom. Mike's gone. Its okay to be sad. Your father and I still get sad. But it will only hurt more if you lie to yourself. You're Tom. Not Mike. Tom"
The words don't make sence. How can she tell me I'm someone who I'm not. "You should get some rest. Take a nap. We'll talk about it later."
***
Goodbye Mikey. The voice is mine. But how. Dad picks me up, cradling me in his arms. Its okay son. We'll get through this together.***
"I know what happened, Mom. I need help."
Mom smiles at me, Tom. "Sure thing sweetie. We'll all get through this together.
The EndPlease give C&C.
-ZLS
