Page 66 of Am I the Only One

With a voice that is reduced to crumbles, I try to be as clear as possible when I say, “They’re in the ground. They are right underneath you.”

His head drops, and he stares at his feet as his breathing grows thicker. With each passing second, he becomes more upset. Tears spill from his eyes, and when he begins to whimper, he falls to his knees. I want to go to him and console him, but I can’t. I’m stuck in my own hell of anguish as I stand here on weak legs.

“Why are in they in the ground?” he cries, rocking back and forth. “Why are they in the dirt, Emma?”

“Because ...”

“Why?”

“Because they’re dead,” I choke out. “Because when you die, you don’t come back.”

“But I want to see them.” His words are nothing but sobs.

Seeing my brother so broken fractures something inside me. Matthew cries like a little boy while staring up at me as if I have the power to fix this situation.

But I can’t.

Life doesn’t grant us the power he childishly believes I have.

“I want to see them.”

“I do too, but we can’t.”

His cries amplify, echoing through the bare trees. “It isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

My brother is falling apart. I want to go to him and hold him, but I’m afraid of what that would do to me. I’m not strong enough to feel this—to actually endure the agony of this situation. Something in my subconscious holds me hostage, rooting me in this very spot, and all I can do is watch as tears stream down his face. From the corner of my eyes, I see Luca a second before he passes me and falls to his knees next to my brother. With Luca’s hand on his shoulder, my brother continues to cry out, “It isn’t fair.”

“It’s okay, man.” Luca says before helping him to his feet. As Luca takes him back to the car, I remain. I should go with them, but for some reason, I don’t. Instead, I move closer until I’m right in front of their headstone. Reaching my hand out, I lay it on the icy-cold monument. The touch is profound, knocking me straight to my knees, and I shatter—I shatter into a thousand pieces of sheer heartbreak. No one would know it from the outside because it’s caged inside me.

Burning tears cut me from the inside, never finding their way down my cheeks. No matter how hard I try to fight the agony, deep down, I’m just as juvenile as my brother. I’m a little girl lost, screaming and crying for her parents. It’s been over a year, and I’m still not ready to be without them. I still need them.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I wonder what they must think of me and all my deception.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, feeling the full weight of shame for the choices I’ve been making. “I never wanted to disappoint you.”

I say these words, hoping they find their way to them. They raised me with faith and morals, but in their absence, I’ve shot that all to hell. I know they would be so disappointed in me.

I press my hands into the snow until they meet the earth. The frozen tips of my fingers sink into the dirt that leads to the both of them. It’s a closeness I don’t think I’m ready for, but I’m also not ready to walk away. So, I don’t. I stay, the wet ground seeping through the knees of my pants as time sunders into something so abstract it becomes unrecognizable.

As I bleed from the inside, I make infinite wishes, tossing them up, only to have them crash back down on top of me, reminding me over and over that they’re gone. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this type of loss. A loss so severe and excruciating that it changes the very fiber of my being.

I’m so abandoned, left on my own, and entirely mangled.

Warmth touches my back and then wraps around me wholly. I fall into Luca willingly, allowing his embrace because I’m too weak to push him away. And even though I’m already so broken, my pieces find a way to splinter even more, disintegrating into dust. Somehow, I’m able to wrap my arms around him and hold on until this torrential anguish subsides, leaving me thoroughly drained.

He doesn’t say a single word as he helps me to my feet and walks me to the car. When I see that Matthew is sitting up front, completely focused on his tablet, unaware of the world outside of this car, I slip into the backseat.

As we drive away, the onslaught of a headache makes its presence known, and I rest my head against the cold window in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing. Matthew talks about the airplane Lego set Luca bought for him at the mall yesterday as if we didn’t just leave our parents’ grave. Sometimes, I’m jealous of his autism. I know it sounds horrible, but at least he doesn’t have to endure the full weight of this misery. He gets it in fragments whereas I get it in its entirety—all the time. It’s unbearable.

When we arrive at Valley Crest, I shove down my emotions and put on a brave face for my brother’s sake. He says his goodbye to Luca before I take him inside. I hug him longer than what he’s comfortable with, but I do it anyway. Eventually, he maneuvers out of my hold, saying, “Too much.”

Once he’s settled and I’m back in the car, I let go of a heavy breath. When my eyes fall shut, Luca’s hand slips into mine. It’s a touch I didn’t know I even needed until right now, and I’m so thankful to have it. He holds my hand all the way back to the hotel.

When we make it up to the room, I’m too tired to feel the embarrassment I probably should. Instead, I’m just empty.

“Are you hungry at all?” he asks, and I can’t believe I didn’t even notice the dark sky until now.

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