Crying. That’s all there is. I can’t hear anything else just crying. The sound is changing now. I hear screaming. I’m asleep, I know I am. Am I the one who’s screaming? I am so confused, that’s all I am. Confused. A door. Is it a door? It slams shut, and it’s too loud. It pushes me back down. I am gone.
I wake up remembering because I had a bad dream. The sun’s shining light in through the window, but my room is still dark. Something’s wrong, I can feel it. I force myself out of bed; the ground is really cold so maybe I’ll just go back to sleep….No! Something happened: screaming, crying, and doors; it’s hard to remember now. I’m leaving my room and I’m going into his. I can’t see him… but he always sleeps under the covers, I’m sure he’s still there. Just in case, I’m going to go look. I tip toe even though he sleeps like a log. I peek in; he’s not there. Mark, my 18 year old brother, is not there. I throw the pillows on the ground, curl up in his bed, and go back to sleep.
“CCCCLLLAAAIIIIIRRREEE!!!” I wake up really fast because that was my mom. I’m confused…where am I? “Aaaahhhh?” this time it was me. I was in Mark’s room where I’m not supposed to be because he doesn’t want me there. He’s going to get really mad. The door opens...Mark’s going to scream…no, it’s just mom. She’s scared and I don’t know why. “Oh my god! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere. I thought you left just like…”
“Clarice! Stop!!”
My mom looks up at my dad. He looks unhappy. He even has the frown lines I hate, but I don’t say anything. “What happened sweetie? Why are you in here?” my mom starts again. I still don’t know what to say because I don’t know how I got here. I turn, close the door, and leave the room. My bed still isn’t made so I make it and get ready for school. My parents see me walk out of the house, but they don’t say anything and neither do I.
People don’t stop staring at me. It’s been the same for the past two weeks, but today it bothers me a little too much. My friends gave up on talking to me. I eat lunch in the restroom because no one wants to say anything to me and I don’t know what to say to them. I didn’t turn in any HW, but the teachers don’t care anymore. I think they gave up on me too. They don’t talk to me anymore, they don’t even look at me. The counselor stopped talking to me a week ago. She used to ask me so many questions, and they always confused me. I never understood how any of them even pertained to me. It’s a good thing she doesn’t waste time on me because I don’t know what to tell her.
After school I go home and upstairs into my room. I shut the door and sit in the middle of my bed. I don’t move until it’s time for dinner. I go down to the dinner table and sit down. Mom puts my food on the plate, and it stays there. After five minutes of staring at the food, I wordlessly stand up and go to my room. I crawl under the sheet and go to sleep.
I hear the same things, but this time I also see. I was wrong. It wasn’t a door; it was gunshot. I’m in a battle, at war. The scene disappears in a second and I’m on the street. It’s foggy and raining really hard. I’m looking down on a casket with the US Flag on it. I lift it up and let go really fast. That is when I go numb. Mark is in it and his eyes are closed. He looks beautiful.
I go in his room again. It’s all the same. When I wake up this time I remember, and I don’t scream. I shut Marks door, get back into bed, and cry. I still can’t believe I was this close to facing death, but instead he jumped in front of me. That’s why I went back to school. I went back because he was mad I didn’t finish my senior year. He promised we’d finish it together. My twin brother…Mark.