Page 76 of Shattered

Chapter forty-one

Brayden

Two weeks later

When you’re trapped in a cycle of tears, time slips away like sand through your fingers. These past two weeks blurred together—I can’t pinpoint where the days went or who crossed my path. All I know is that each night, I bury my face in Bohdi’s chest, Bexley’s quilt buried between us, until sleep claims me, and then I’m haunted by Bex’s face. But in my dreams, he’s different. Happy. It’s where I seek comfort in losing him.

His sunken cheeks have filled out, his face radiant. He smiles freely, and when I look at him, it’s like gazing into a mirror—except I know it’s Bexley because of that unruly, overgrown hair he always tucked behind his ears.

He tells me it’s better where he is now. That he misses me but will remain by my side every day. I’ve asked him countless times why he did it, but he never answers directly. Instead, he insists I find peace in his newfound well-being.

He’s OK now.

Every morning, I wake with the mantra: He’s better.

But the truth is, maybe he is, but I’m not. I’m shattered, piecing together fragments of our shared soul that he left behind.

And I keep telling him, if he’d stayed, I would’ve helped him. But he only replies, “It was too late.”

Yet every night, my dream unfolds the same way. Bexley waits for me at the park gate—the same one we hang around in as kids. His smile is bright, and in his hands, he holds those nostalgic Nerds Ropes.

It’s a bittersweet reunion every single time, because dreams don’t last forever, and my body won’t sleep forever.

Yesterday, I learned I could go visit Bexley and say my personal goodbyes before the funeral today, but I couldn’t. I knew that the body that lays in that casket isn’t my brother. It’s not the Bex in my dreams and I want to hold on to that version.

As I sit staring at the solid casket in front of me, I still can’t believe that Bexley is in there. Kal and Tray sit either side of me, while Kal’s Mom and Dad sit beside Kal, with my Mom in between them. She’s crying like her life has ended when in fact she is the root of all of this. She is the reason Bex is in that casket. I’ve told her Bex was the only thing that kept me coming back to that trailer. I promised her once I had removed everything to do with Bex from there, she will never see me again. Of course, she wept and begged me and said how sorry she was, but she wasn’t. Bex was her pawn, her drug line, and now he’s gone. What is she going to do?

Fucking die, I hope.

There’s no seat in heaven for her. Hell can have their way with her.

Staring across the casket, all my teammates stand in their smart suits, paying their respect as everyone’s eyes are on thecasket as the pastor reads words about Bexley. Every morning this week, Bohdi would ask me one thing.

“Tell me one memory of Bexley.”

And then he’d ask me the same thing before I went to bed. I would sometimes get lost in my stories, but I didn’t realize he was writing a eulogy the whole time. A couple of nights ago, he read it to me. A lifetime condensed into one speech. It held everything: the laughter, the unfulfilled plans, like that trip to London, and the ache of loss. Bohdi became my rock—the one who held me when my legs faltered, who cradled me through tear-soaked nights.

Denny questioned Bohdi’s whereabouts, but Boh slipped through the cracks, leaving only apologies. I spent a week cocooned in his house, but grief doesn’t hold to calendars. School couldn’t wait. I returned, seeking relief in familiar faces. Kal and Tray stood by me, their silent strength supporting my fragile resolve.

In class, I found moments of respite, the dull lectures, the scribbled notes. But I was always dying to get back to Bohdi’s so I could go to sleep and be with my brother again. Cope believes I’m still at my mom’s, unaware that my old bed remains untouched.

I feel a nudge as Tray looks at me.

“They’re ready for you.” He nods to the pastor, who has obviously finished, but I didn’t hear a thing. I said I wanted to do my own reading. I wanted to write my own for Bex. I tried to make it long. I wanted everyone to know how special he was, but then I realized I didn’t need everyone to know how special he was. I only needed him to know that.

So as I step up and walk toward the front, I don’t read from a script. I don’t read from notes I had jotted down. I speak the truth to Bexley and only Bexley. I stare at the casket, tears running down my face.

“To my other half, my twin: Why did you slip away, leaving me here? You told me last night in my dreams that it’s because you’re better now, but can’t you see the wreckage you’ve left behind?” Clenching my jaw, I dig my nails into my palm, taking a deep breath.

“Your laughter lingers in the breeze, teasing me with memories. I glimpse your reflection in the mirror, the same eyes, the same curve of lips, and I ache. Tell me Bex, did you take a piece of me with you? Or did I lose a piece of myself when you left?” A tear slips free, trickling down my face. I dig my fingers into my palms harder.

“I would have held on, Bex. I would have fought against the darkness that consumed you. But you slipped through my grasp, and now I’m left with the jagged edges of our severed bond. We were more than siblings; we were halves of a whole, stitched together.” The sounds of cries slowly blend into nothing. All I hear is the gentle wind and if I close my eyes, I swear I can hear Bex’s voice.

“When your heart stilled, mine fractured. Our laughter, that once brought me peace, now echoes and haunts me each day. I search for you in every gust of wind, every raindrop that trickles down my skin. Perhaps you’re there, whispering secrets in the rustling leaves, urging me to find comfort in memories. But how can I mend when my crumbled walls were because you knocked it down? I carry your absence like the heaviest weight to carry, like an open wound, bleeding grief into the emptiness. And yet, I cling to the fragments, the shared laughter, the silent conversations, the unspoken promises, as if they can somehow weave me back together.” My head drops as I stare at the blood trickling down my hands, but I don’t stop. I dig more.

“Bex, my twin, my missing half. I cry for the life we should have lived, the adventures we should have shared. Our souls were tangled, and now mine flutters, unleashed, searching foryou in every shadow. Did you know, in that final moment, that our connection would shatter? That the universe would crack our shared core into a thousand tiny pieces? I’ll hold your memory close, tending to the shards of our shattered soul. Perhaps, in their jagged edges, I’ll find a way to piece myself back together.” Then it hits me with the raw, intense pain. “I love you Bex, BB for life.”

My voice breaks as I crumble to the floor. Everything I have held in over the past two weeks tumbled from my lips. Begging to know why he left me. Kal and Tray pick me up and Denny walks behind holding me up. When I’m brought back to my seat, my eyes meet Bohdi’s, wishing it was him holding me up. His eyes swim with unshed tears as he clenches his jaw. His eyes bore into mine, a silent message: I’ve got you.

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