Short Story : Titled - A loss.
He closed his eyes tightly, the world now seemed to be bleak and grey around him. He pinched at the rough fabric of his jeans, just letting the tears fall from his face as he leaned against the wall in the school's halls. He didn't care, let the others laugh and point, but why bother hiding them with false laughter and smiles? A hand on his shoulder made him take a deep breath, before opening his eyes to look at whomever it was. "Are you alright?" asked Karter and he noticed the raggedness to his words and the redness to his eyes. "No, Karter." he choked out, "Why would he do it? I mean, the last words I said to him were 'I hate you'." and he gasped at a sob, his best friend patted his back comfortingly but he shrugged him away. "Nick ..." said Karter, but he was already walking away. The remaining thought of his brother's motionless form, crumpled on the bathroom floor flashed in his mind and he felt his knees give way. "Why? Why did you do it?" he cried, grinding the heel of his hand into his eyes as he just knelt there in the middle of the hall sobbing until he felt a presence behind him.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice raw with grief. "I want to help you." said a soft voice, there was audible sadness but no one, no one knew what it felt like to have your sibling - whom you had seen smiling just yesterday - comit suicide. "You can't." he said, anger pushing it's way through the sadness. "I could try." but he shook his head vigorously, getting to his feet with rough, exaggerated movements. "I don't want your help." I told her, seeing that it was our guidance counselor. "I just .. just want to know why." and with that having been said, he watched her expression change to utter despair. "I knew you couldn't be of any help." and he gave a small, bitter smile before turning to walk down the hall to his first class. He could feel the eyes boring into him, he was late, but he didn't have the will to care. He could still feel the emotions battering at his mind, eating his insides and making him weaken as he slumped into his seat. The teacher made no attempt to give him a tardy as he continued on with the lesson but Nick could feel his sympathetic glances.
It was near the end of the school day when he couldn't take anymore of it. He looked around him, and cried in an angry voice. "I don't want your pity, or your help! Just leave me alone!" Shocked faces looked up from their conversations to look at him but he marched off just as the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. The bus driver, fortunately, hadn't been made aware of the events and Nick crumpled into the front seat with the dread of returning home gnawing at him.
He was halfway to his house, already he was covered in a shroud of depression and the glint of glass on the cement sidewalk made his steps falter. An image of his brother's hand clutching the piece of mirror glass entered his mind. Nick bent to retrieve it, spying the flash of a silver car in his peripheral, closing it in his fist and feeling the sharp pain of it's edges tearing into the delicate flesh of his palm. He was unaware of the pounding footsteps that made their way towards him, until his mother gave an anguished cry. "Nick!" and suddenly he looked up, into a face twisted with agony, despair and grief. "Nick." his mother sobbed, and he could feel more hot tears spill from his eyes. "Nick, please don't." she pleaded with him, watching him with the eyes of a wounded doe. Nick's hand relaxed, ever so slowly, before he opened his hand and dropped the red tinged glass onto the pavement with a mechanical action. He just stared at the ground before his mother's feet.
Thin arms encircled him in a tight embrace. "It's alright, baby. It's alright." his mother whispered fervently. He hugged her back, but it was without feeling because no matter how many times someone told him that, it would never be alright.
He closed his eyes tightly, the world now seemed to be bleak and grey around him. He pinched at the rough fabric of his jeans, just letting the tears fall from his face as he leaned against the wall in the school's halls. He didn't care, let the others laugh and point, but why bother hiding them with false laughter and smiles? A hand on his shoulder made him take a deep breath, before opening his eyes to look at whomever it was. "Are you alright?" asked Karter and he noticed the raggedness to his words and the redness to his eyes. "No, Karter." he choked out, "Why would he do it? I mean, the last words I said to him were 'I hate you'." and he gasped at a sob, his best friend patted his back comfortingly but he shrugged him away. "Nick ..." said Karter, but he was already walking away. The remaining thought of his brother's motionless form, crumpled on the bathroom floor flashed in his mind and he felt his knees give way. "Why? Why did you do it?" he cried, grinding the heel of his hand into his eyes as he just knelt there in the middle of the hall sobbing until he felt a presence behind him.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice raw with grief. "I want to help you." said a soft voice, there was audible sadness but no one, no one knew what it felt like to have your sibling - whom you had seen smiling just yesterday - comit suicide. "You can't." he said, anger pushing it's way through the sadness. "I could try." but he shook his head vigorously, getting to his feet with rough, exaggerated movements. "I don't want your help." I told her, seeing that it was our guidance counselor. "I just .. just want to know why." and with that having been said, he watched her expression change to utter despair. "I knew you couldn't be of any help." and he gave a small, bitter smile before turning to walk down the hall to his first class. He could feel the eyes boring into him, he was late, but he didn't have the will to care. He could still feel the emotions battering at his mind, eating his insides and making him weaken as he slumped into his seat. The teacher made no attempt to give him a tardy as he continued on with the lesson but Nick could feel his sympathetic glances.
It was near the end of the school day when he couldn't take anymore of it. He looked around him, and cried in an angry voice. "I don't want your pity, or your help! Just leave me alone!" Shocked faces looked up from their conversations to look at him but he marched off just as the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. The bus driver, fortunately, hadn't been made aware of the events and Nick crumpled into the front seat with the dread of returning home gnawing at him.
He was halfway to his house, already he was covered in a shroud of depression and the glint of glass on the cement sidewalk made his steps falter. An image of his brother's hand clutching the piece of mirror glass entered his mind. Nick bent to retrieve it, spying the flash of a silver car in his peripheral, closing it in his fist and feeling the sharp pain of it's edges tearing into the delicate flesh of his palm. He was unaware of the pounding footsteps that made their way towards him, until his mother gave an anguished cry. "Nick!" and suddenly he looked up, into a face twisted with agony, despair and grief. "Nick." his mother sobbed, and he could feel more hot tears spill from his eyes. "Nick, please don't." she pleaded with him, watching him with the eyes of a wounded doe. Nick's hand relaxed, ever so slowly, before he opened his hand and dropped the red tinged glass onto the pavement with a mechanical action. He just stared at the ground before his mother's feet.
Thin arms encircled him in a tight embrace. "It's alright, baby. It's alright." his mother whispered fervently. He hugged her back, but it was without feeling because no matter how many times someone told him that, it would never be alright.
