Haunted

Memories

    I woke up and I immediately knew the date by the overwhelming sense of loss and grief that ravaged me. Reaching over to the nightstand, I grabbed my phone. The screen lit up revealing that the date was indeed April 8th. Placing the phone on my chest, I waited for the horror to start. Every year this day came back to haunt me. The sights, the smells, the sounds, and the feelings beating the s**t out of my mind until I almost go insane. It was like clockwork every year.

    The involuntary tears started to pool at the corners of my eyes as images of that day started playing over and over in my head. I began choking on my own breath as I tried to fight off the mental onslaught that I knew was coming. No matter how hard I tried, I lost every year. Soon the images were accompanied by sounds that left me curled up in a heaping sobbing mess on my bed. My whole body began to shake so badly that if someone else saw they would think I was having a seizure.

    My phone started ringing but I was shaking so badly that my phone had fallen off of my chest and I couldn't get my motor skills to work right to answer it before it went to voicemail. I already knew who was calling so after struggling a bit more; I managed to grab my phone and waited for him to call back. Sure enough, a few seconds later, my phone rang again.

“How bad is it?” Tyler's voice echoed through the phone. I tried to pull in some air to speak, but instead of words, more gut wrenching sobs came out. “I'm on my way. Don't try to get up!”

    The line went dead just as my arm went limp and my phone went crashing to the floor. My body was increasingly growing numb as the mental onslaught grew stronger. I couldn't tell how much time had passed between Tyler's phone call and when the grief turned to pure unfiltered rage. Just as I started screaming and trying to force my, at the moment, useless body off of the bed; Tyler came charging into my room and lunged towards me pinning me down.

“Get the f**k off of me!” I wailed.

“Nope,”

“Bastard, I'm serious get the f**k off me.” I retorted in a deadly calm tone.

“One, I'm not a bastard, our parents conceived us in wedlock. Two, you're serious? I’m sorry, I'm confused. Could have sworn this was my brother Axel's place.”

“This isn't a joke dickhead.”

“Well what the f**k are you gonna do Axel? Are you going to just march into the prison and rip their f*****g heads off?”

“Actually that sounds like a pretty damn good plan to me. If you would just let me up, I promise I will get right on that.” I answered sarcastically. “You know I can't help this s**t!”

    The rage slowly started to fade away to only be replaced by tears once again. Only when my body was fully shaking from sobs once more did Tyler let go of me.

“It's been ten years Axe...maybe it's time to start letting her go.”

    The final scene flared itself in my mind’s eye so brightly it might as well had seared itself onto my eyes. The last thing I heard was myself screaming as I was overtaken by the scene of her choking to death on her own blood while I held her in my arms. After the screaming ended, I let my mind fade to black and passed out.

***

    With a sigh, I stared down at my twin as he slipped into his unconscious state. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scrolled through the contacts and called our Dad.

“Hey how is he?” he asked, answering on the first ring.

“I'm going to need you to drop off the sedatives.” I replied. “It seems like this s**t gets worse every year.”

“Okay, I was getting ready to head to the clinic, I drop them by first. Do you need anything else?”

“A f*****g cure would be nice.”

“Don't take that tone with me Tyler Alexander Roman. I know how much you hate to see him hurt but it could be many more years before he even begins to get over the shock of what happened that day.”

“I know, I know, I'm sorry it's just...he still blames himself.”

    Our father let out a sad sigh. “I never got to know the girl, but I'm sure that she never blamed him. Hell I doubt she even blamed the sick f***s that killed her.”

“You're right, she would want him to be happy. That's what he is trying to do but when this s**t happens every year it's like he has to start all over again from that day because it's so fresh in his mind. What the f**k do I do? How do I help?”

“You're doing it son. He just needs more time.”

    With a defeated sigh I replied. “Fine, I'll see you in a few.”

    I looked down at my brother's broken down form. Every other day of the year he was fine. In fact he was more than fine. He was proud, defiant, and boldly gave a “f**k you” to the universe with everything he said and did. It was only on the April 8th, the day his whole world came crashing down that he was broken. I don't know what made me feel worse. The fact that it was the day she died, or the fact that it was also her eighteenth birthday, the day she could finally be free of her tormentors.