EVEREST

2: Dylan

“The lord gives and the lord takes,” The priest that had been called to preside over my sister’s funeral said, “We must be thankful for the life that Ava lived”

Thankful?

That seemed like one hell of a job to give to the family of a girl that overdosed in her bedroom.

My aunt Gina told me that my mom had been the one to find the body.

Poor Mom.

I can’t even imagine how she managed not to lose her mind from the trauma.

That was her baby girl.

Dead on her bed. Even worse, she died alone.

How could anyone be thankful about f****d up s**t like that?

And be thankful for the life that Ava lived?

Even if I had it in me to be thankful, I didn’t know enough about Ava’s life to be thankful for it.

We got separated when we were seven.

It was something no twin sibling should ever have to experience but we weren’t so lucky.

I grew up hundreds of miles away from the girl I shared a womb with and eventually learned to go through life without her.

Still, I had a plan.

To use college as a chance to move closer to wherever she schooled and start all over again.

Just us against the world.

Now she was dead.

I never even got the chance to know her.

Was I still supposed to be thankful?

I looked up ahead as my parents sat at the front row weeping in each other’s arms.

Funny, I could have sworn they hated each other.

But then again, the child they had both created was about to be dropped six feet into the dirt.

Maybe the only places they could find solace was in each other.

Nobody was yet to realize that I had snuck to the back.

“Ava Montgomery was a beautiful young lady who had so much love in her heart,” the priest dragged on, “Her light shone brightly in the lives of those around her”

“f**k this” I muttered.

I got up as quietly from the back row as I could and snuck out towards where my car had been parked, got in and drove off.

None of this made any sense.

What was so bad that Ava just decided to up and kill herself?

Was it mom?

Was it something else?

Why didn’t anybody f*****g watch her?!

Dad and I had to fly out to where Mom lived immediately we got the news.

Trust me when I say that I didn’t like my dad enough to care much about his feelings but this time, I was worried.

He was really heartbroken.

Pretty sure I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve heard him crying himself to sleep.

Or how many times he’s called Ava’s name in his sleep.

I wonder if he loved me the way he loved her.

And Mom?

I don’t think I’d ever seen her so utterly broken.

When she saw me for the first time again in almost two years she hugged me for so long I was sure she would never let me go.

Then the waterworks started.

It was hard not to feel like a monster when everyone was clearly messed up over Ava and I was numb.

You’d think I didn’t just lose the only sibling I had with how calm and detached I was.

Hell, she was being buried and I drove away to some random bar.

The bartender, a young man with grey eyes gave me a suspicious look.

“Hey, man. You sure you’re old enough to be drinking?”

“Yeah” I replied even when I knew I was barely 18.

The man didn’t seem to buy it.

“Yeah, I’m going to need to see some ID”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“ID or I need you to leave”

I sighed and brought out the same fake ID I used to get drinks back home.

The man glanced at the ID that placed my age around 23.

“Hey, man,” the bartender began, “My bad. You looked really young and I just needed to be sure”

“It’s fine,” I said, “Can I get a shot of vodka?”

“Clear?”

“Yeah” I replied.

“Rough day?”

“My sister’s getting buried right now and I’m here trying to get to a functional level of drunkenness”

The man said nothing and went behind the counter.

Barely three minutes later he placed two shots in front of me.

“I asked for one”

“The other one is on the house. Sorry for your loss, Man”

“Yeah”

The bartender walked away and stayed out of my hair for the most part.

The only time he seemed to be bothered by me was when he wanted to be certain that I was not too drunk to drive.

When he realized that I may have been a little too drunk to drive, he made sure to call me a ride right after confiscating my keys.

“Come back around when you’re sober and ask for Daniel. I’ll give them back”

Then he led me outside and half shoved me into the taxi that would take me home.

On paper, going back home seemed like a good idea.

Except, I was headed home at 8pm, approximately 7 hours since I ran away.

I already knew I was headed straight for a major reaction as soon as I crossed the front door.

True to my suspicions, my parents were waiting for me.

Mom got up, rushed over and hugged me.

“Dylan, oh my baby,” she began checking my face and hands, “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

I almost pushed her away.

What the hell was she offering me affection for?

“Where the hell have you been, boy?”

Dad asked, his voice low heavy with anger and disappointment.

“I had to leave” I replied quietly.

“Tom, it’s fine,” my mom said, “He’s back and that’s all that matters”

“Cut the s**t, Liz!” He yelled, “Look at the boy! Look at him! He’s f*****g drunk!”

“Tom, that’s enough”

“He leaves his sister’s f*****g funeral!! To get drunk!! This selfish little prick! You leave your mother alone, worried sick about you!”

“Tom!”

“The boy is a f*****g screw up! All he does is get high and cause issues for everyone!”

“Oh screw you, dad. You f*****g raised me since I was 7! Whose fault is it that I turned out like this?!”

I didn’t notice when my father had moved across the room. The next thing that I felt was his fist connecting with my nose and I was on the ground.

“IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!” My dad screamed while pointing a shaky finger at my face, “YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED INSTEAD OF AVA!!”

My mother, shocked, slapped him across the face.

“HOW DARE YOU!!!,” she slapped his face again, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! GET THE f**k OUT, TOM!”

She rushed to my side and tried to help me get up but I was too stunned to move.

“Dylan, baby. Are you okay? Can you get up,” she took out her scarf to stop my nose bleed, “Oh my God, your nose.” She glared at my father, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

My father scoffed and shook his head.

“You know what, since i’m the f*****g bad guy, you take him! By all means rid me of the gay, drug addict son YOU BROUGHT INTO MY f*****g LIFE!”

“GET OUTTTT!!!”

“Good luck, Liz”

“OUT!!”

My father grabbed his coat and stormed out of the house slamming the door behind him.

Walking out of my life forever.