Realistic fiction by Anaaya Ravishankar

People change mainly because they go through something inhuman. If people went through what I did, I can assure you they wouldn’t survive. My name is Shay Ross, I’m 19 years and I’m being hunted by my demons. Every night my pillow is soaked in my tears. Every moment I live I wish it was my last. Do you feel pain? Well if you do you’re lucky, you’re lucky you can feel. When he died my heart literally turned stone cold. ‘Sometimes all you can do is hope to fall asleep before you fall apart.’ Although, falling asleep doesn’t really help…it just brings alive my nightmares and fears. If you’re really sensitive about things pick up another story, if not, welcome to my hell….

Wait, what happened? What’s wrong? These questions are probably wandering through  your mind right now. Well, I suffer from severe depression and anxiety. Suicidal thoughts also began pouring in after the incident. Like I mentioned above, somebody died and that’s the main reason I’m like this. Still don’t understand? Let’s make that clearer. Do you know what happens when the only thing you love gets taken away forever? Your happiness, joy, your reasons to live goes away with them and that’s exactly what happened to me when life decided to break me further and took my twin brother away from me. We came into this world together but he left without me. He went away leaving me alone in this dark place. Leaving me to drown in my pain and sorrows. I would give anything to see his smile…to watch the way it could light up the world in a couple of seconds. Whenever I looked in the mirror I could see his glowing ocean eyes looking back at me as if I were a diamond. I’m so lost in this world without him. He was the light guiding me out of that black hole. He was my everything and now this house no longer feels like home.

My parents, Sarah and Jeremiah Ross. My brothers’ death destroyed my parents completely. They were the kindest, most caring people I had ever known. Sure, they had their faults but who doesn’t? They fought sometimes but that just made them stronger but now my dad is rarely at home and when he is, my parents can’t stop fighting. What about my mom? She became arrogant, selfish and couldn’t care less about me. Sometimes I wish she was the one rarely at home because at least my dad cared somewhat about me.

Broken, hut, lost…empty. These words roamed my head as another drop of my blood stained the floor, another cut tattooed my skin. I heard footsteps approaching my door and I quickly pulled my sleeves down covering my bruised bloody arms. My mom threw the door open and I looked into her eyes. My heart sank as it met my moms’ once glowing eyes now sad and lifeless. Ever since my brother died I’ve spent hours trying to impress her. Trying to make her love me. Trying to show her that I’m hurting too, may even more than her. Every time I try to do anything for her she just shoves me aside. Somewhat like how a puppy is seeking its mothers’ attention and love but instead just get abandoned on the edge of a sidewalk.

“Yes mom?” I said breaking eye contact. “I’m leaving for work in 10 minutes. Either get there or find another ride to college.” She said in the least interested manner possible. “Oh, you might want to grab something to eat, you look pathetic.” She rolled her eyes and made her way out of the room.

College. Isn’t it supposed to be a place where all differences where finally put a side but I can assure there was nothing further from the truth. You’re probably wondering how bad could it possibly be? Let’s just say it was bad enough to put me in the hospital a couple times. My moms rushed voice snapped me back to reality. “Get out.” She said firmly. I picked up my books and accidently shut the car door harder then I intended to. “If you break it, you better be able to pay for it.” She said as she drove off almost running over my toes. I turned to face the entrance and I immediately regretted getting out of bed.

Loren, Jane, Kyle and Nate the four people who make my life a living hell without breaking a sweat. “Hey shay, how’s brother dearest” Nate taunted me. “Leave me alone, please.” I begged. Jane pushed me back. “Come on try harder. This is pitiful.” She mocked. “What’s going on here?” Professor Mitchell questioned. “Nothing.” Loren said looking directly at me. “Right Shay?” “Right.” I faked a smile. Hopefully it was convincing enough. “Get to class.” She ordered. I ran to class. I spent the rest of the day hiding for them. When college ended I took the bus home and to my surprise my dad was actuallywaiting for me. “Dad?” I stared at him still surprised. He didn’t say anything. He gently held my hand and pushed my sleeves up. “Why are you hurting yourself?” He asked with tears flowing down his face. He flipped his black hair off his face. I looked into his blue eyes and said. “Why do you care?” “l care because I’m your father.” He responded. “what kind of father is never there for his child?” I yelled. He didn’t say anything. His face turned blank, emotionless. He took out the car keys and gestured me to get in the car. “Where are we going?” I asked as I stared out of the fogged window. “A therapist.” He said.

“Why do you bottle up your feelings?” Okay, let’s talk about your mother. We’ve been at this for 45 minutes and all you’ve done is stare at the wall.Your father put you in therapy because you need help.”

 “All I need is my brother.” I finally answered.

“Do you want to talk about him? It doesn’t have to be anything personal for example we can start with how he looks.”

He looked at me intently. It took me a while to answer. I could picture him in my head. I closed my eyes and said “His name was Noah, Noah Ross and well, he looked exactly like me. Fair skin, jet black hair, ocean blue eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest of days.” A tear ran down my cheek. “It’s been an hour, I’m leaving.” I said wiping the tear away.

 “I’ll see you next week same time, same day.” He called out to me. As the door shut he thought to himself, ‘she’s going to be a challenge. Even thoughshe’s damaged she’s so strong. Her walls are high and secure like the walls of a high end bank, almost impossible to breakthrough. I’m pretty sure no one could but I’m not going to stop until I manage to bring them even a few centimeters down. I know I barely know her I haven’t seen many people standing after going through something like that. She’s literally like a candle in the wind and I’m not going to let her burn out.’

Many weeks went by. Everyday I’d get bullied by those four. Every second day my mom would yell at me or throw something at me. Every week I would go to see my therapist and yet nothing has changed…until today. When a new memory was added to my movie of nightmares. What happened? I don’t quite remember. I just remember waking up on a hospital bed with a broken ankle, my hair cut off and bruises all around my body and now I’m still in the hospital staring at myself in the mirror.

 “Can I come in?” A familiar voice asked. It wasn’t my mom or dad, it was my therapist.

 “Sure, it’s a free world.” I replied to his request. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. I didn’t say anything.

“Can I do anything for you?” I remained silent.

“Ring the bell if you need anything.”  He smiled and walked out. He knew I wasn’t ready to talk. Am I okay? No. I’m not okay nor do I think I ever will be. I could take their insults and their pushes and shoves but this really scarred me. This didn’t only scar my body but cut through my heart. ‘There are wounds that don’t show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.’

The hospital me a few days later and I haven’t said a single word to anyone. After a month since the incident I went back and got my cast removed. I visited my therapist but didn’t utter a word. My parents don’t ask if I’m okay. Either they don’t care or they’re waiting for me to break. I haven’t been to college since then. I’ve had many breakdowns. My depression is slowly eating me from the inside. My anxiety levels are hitting the roof tops. I listen to depressing and suicidal things. I eat only junk and I’ve become slightly overweight. And now I’ve had it. I’ve officially snapped.

I’ve been cut and bruised. Even though my heart is shattered into a million pieces, every piece aches. The little love I had for myself was now lost somewhere in some unknown place. I’m tired of feeling pain. I’m tired of fighting. I’m ready to surrender. I’ve been strong for so long now but when I stand up I can feel my feet slowly failing me. For the first time in years my heart and mind agree on the same thing… it’s time to finally give up and stop trying to fight a battle I can’t win. At last things seem so simple. I slowly moved the cut glass to my wrist as a tear made its way down my cheek. My body shivered as the cut glass touched my skin. “Goodbye.” I whispered into the still air.

“Stop!” I heard a frightened scream behind me. It was my therapist standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “Just please stop.” He begged.

 “Go away.” I said “Go away like everyone else did.” My voice began to crack and tears started building up in my eyes.

 “I’m not going anywhere. Shay, listen to me. Ending your life isn’t the answer. It never is. You’re one of the strongest and bravest people I’ve met and I’m not saying just that because you’re about to end your life. Hearing you talk to me every week showed me how you’re in hell and yet your holding your head up high. You’ve walked through fires and I’ll be damned if you burn out now. Your brother didn’t die saving you just for you to kill you self. You are loved. You are loved more than you know. Put the glass down and I’ll show you.”

My body grew numb. The glass slipped through my fingers and shattered on the floor. My back slid down the bathroom wall. I cried and cried. My therapist hugged me trying to calm me down. I cried for hours with my body shaking uncontrollably.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. I’m going to be by your side through out and so are your parents.” He said reassuringly.

“My parents?” I was confused. “Yes, your parents. They unintentionally took all their anger out on you because they just couldn’t bear the pain. A little birdie might have knocked some sense into them.” He chuckled. I tightened the hug but couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Please stop crying. They don’t deserve your tears. Nobody does. Do this for your brother.”

I immediately stopped crying when I heard the words “…do this for your brother…” I got up. I wiped my tears off my face. I’m going to be strong. I’m not going to be afraid. I’m going to climb to the top of that mountain, I’m going to look down at that small world and show those people that if they kick me when I’m down again they better pray I don’t get up. ‘The best view comes only from the hardest climb.’ I’M GOING TO DO THIS FOR MY BROTHER.

Weeks passed, and I was improving. My parents didn’t completely ignore me. My father spent more time at home. My mother was still rude, but she was trying to change. My therapist concluded after 25 sessions that to improve I needed to let go, needed to say goodbye and that’s exactly what I did.

I woke up the next morning, changed into warm comfy clothes, went downstairs, picked up a buttered toast and met my parents in the car and we drove to the cemetery.

This is it. This is when I say goodbye to my twin brother. I slowly walked to the grave and placed a white rose. I just sat there quietly for what seemed like hours until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

 “Would you like to say something?” My dad asked.

I slowly nodded my head. I stood up, took a deep breath, my eyes fixated on the grave I said “Even though we’re twins you’ll always be my big brother Noah. I’m miss you so much. I’d tear heaven and hell to find you, but somebody has got to take care of mom and dad. I’m sorry you died saving me. You had somuch to look forward to. Who’s going to annoy mom and dad by speaking in Italian without you? I love you Noah…more than anyone ever can. You’ll always be our favorite hello and hardest goodbye. Sempre e per sempre (always and forever). Sleep tight brother, until we meet again.