Chapter 20

No dear, I'm not choking
My throat's a little tight
But give me a moment
And I'll probably be fine

~Nathaniel's Lyric Journal

MY MIND WAS A WRECK.

I needed to escape. I kept walking, even when my muscles, nerves, and everything inside of me was coiled so tightly of stress and anger. Worry that I couldn't keep it together long enough to get home.

Everything burned. My heart, lungs, legs, throat. The sound of my name being shouted behind me caused blood to roar in my ears. A hand wrapped around my arm, jerking me back. I whipped my head around to see Angela calling for me. My feet eventually slowed. Angela placed a hand on her chest, panting loudly.

"Wait up," Angela rasped, gasping for air.

"You can hang out with your friends. You don't have to be here," I said stoically, holding back all the feelings I had. About Mom. Alabama. Dad. Elise. Everything was burning.

Angela shook her head fiercely. "I want to be here."

I instinctively jerked back. "I want to go home alone."

Hazel eyes searched for something on my face before her mouth grew taut. "Let me drop you home at least since I picked you up." A small grin touched her lips that undid me enough to maybe relax a little.

"O-okay."

We walked silently. My eyes drifted to Angela time to time, trying to decipher the blank expression on her face. I wanted to ask her what was she thinking and insist again that she didn't have to come, but every time I opened my mouth, my mouth was dry. I kept my head low, focusing on not bumping into others and praying I didn't see anyone I knew.

Relief swept my body when we were outside. For the first time, I welcomed being the open space- the only thing that was bigger than all the thoughts that were jumbled in my head. We crossed across the parking lot towards Angela's red car. When she unlocked the door, I immediately entered the passenger's seat, trying to relax into the seat as best as I could and ignoring the knot in my stomach.

Angela hopped into the driver's seat. She started the cart, her hands frozen on the ignition. An unfamiliar country song was playing softly in the background. She took a deep breath before turning towards me.

"Jackson was being a jerk, and I'm sorry he said those things," Angela apologized. "This was suppose to be a nice outing and he ruined it."

I wanted to scream. I would've normal ignored it or played it off, but I didn't do that. I didn't even realize that I did it. My hands clenched into fists and I took a few shaky breaths.

This wasn't me. I didn't know what this was, but it didn't feel like me.

I shrugged it off. "It's fine. I've heard worse."

She shook her head at my nonchalant attitude and responded, "It doesn't make anything he was joking about okay. I never...heard him say any of that until now. It's gross."

I shrugged. "Yeah. You're right."

Angela looked at me before she shifted the car into drive. She drove silently, humming softly to the song that was on the radio. I looked outside, following the my eyes on the flat land and not on the fact that my heart was pounding so loudly. My head could only think about the pain and the anger.

I felt guilty at Angela, who has been going out of her way to drop me off. I looked back at her."Thanks for doing this. You don't have to make me feel better."

She smiled, rolling her eyes. "Of course I will do it. I'm just here if you want to talk." She paused for a moment, flickering her eyes briefly on me from her peripheral vision. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The idea of talking about it made me want to vomit.

"I'm fine," I insisted.

She frowned."It's valid to be mad at Jackson, you know that, right?"

I shrugged again. "What he said was just stupid and I've seen worse," I muttered.

She turned into our street. She parked on the side of the road, across the street from my home. She turned back at me, unbuckling her belt and crossing her arms.

"Then what's wrong?" she asked.

I was afraid to tell her what was on my mind. I was worried if I started talking, everything would come out like a damn that burnt.

"I'm just a little hungover from last night," I lied, scratching the back of my head. "I probably overreacted back there."

"You know it's okay to be upset about it, right?"

I couldn't explain to Angela why I felt awful and guilty for being angry. "I just am so tired of feeling the way I do," I answered vaguely. Her eyes widened at my words.

"That's what you said last night," she said softly. My train of thought froze at her words.

I immediately asked, "What do you mean?"

She leaned back against her headrest. "I found you drinking alone at the party. I think David went to say hello to someone else. I asked you if you were okay and you said that same exact thing. You looked like you wanted to be anywhere else but there."

I don't know what happened, but then I told her about Mom. It was the first person outside of my family I spoke into detail about what happened with Mom. Everything came out like a word vomit. I just spoke about how I was the one who found her dead, and how everything seemed distorted.

I couldn't feel anything emotion wise, but my head was killing me with so much pain. I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to cry. I just couldn't handle the paradoxes where life seemed normal but my brain couldn't reconcile it.

My mind drifted to Elise, and I realized how much I missed seeing her. My lips tingled at the thought of the kiss, and I wish I took it back. I wanted to sit back out and talk to her because I felt okay around her.

"I'm so sorry, Nate," Angela said, a hand reaching over and placed on mine. She leaned closer with concern. "How are you feeling right now?"

The warm hand calmed me down a little. "Right now...I just feel angry and hurt."

Angela gripped my hand tightly. "My mom just left one day when I was really young. I know it's not the same as you but even now, it hurts. Sometimes, if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine her voice, singing a lullaby."

I tried to think of my Mom like that, and nothing was coming. She wasn't even off the Earth for that long and I couldn't even think of a single thing. "I think already forgetting her voice. I don't know how I could feel so numb just feel everything at the same time," I confessed, never feeling so ashamed in my life.

"I think your body is trying to protect you. Whatever you are feeling is so intense, your body doesn't want you to have to feel it so it numbs you up instead," Angela explained softly.

"What can I do then?" I asked, realizing for the first time how directionless I was.

Angela shrugged, barely lifting her shoulders. "Help your body. Talk to someone about this. You have to talk to someone, Nate. If you ever feel like you can't talk to some... you have my number, so I am here to talk if you need it." 

I nodded, her words ringing in my ears and her words made my chest ache. I wanted to talk about it with someone rather than keep it out, but how do you tell someone everything you are feeling without it coming out all at once. When I saw the hopeful look on her face, I felt a little less worried about that. 

"Thanks for the advice. Can I ask you something?" Angela nodded, watching me with interest. "What did we do last night? I can't remember a single thing last night."

She chuckled. "Honestly...we just talked. We talked for a long time."

"About what?"

She laughed. "Everything. From New York to here. All different topics honestly before you drunkenly got up to sing." At the mention of me singing, Angela started to laugh while my face burned.

"Oh my God I forgot about that."

"You were so good. I will say, when you were singing, that was the most passion I have seen from you since I've met you. You actually looked like you wanted to be there. You should keep that going," Angela advised.

I thought back to when I was singing with Elise and nodded. Perhaps Angela was right after all. 

"I might just do that," I said, putting a hand on tops of hers for comfort. She leaned in closer, and I felt my breathing changed. My brain recognized the signs.

I felt her breath on me before she her mouth against mine softly. Instinctively, I pursed my lips against her. My hands stayed planted on my seat, clutching my shorts tightly. Her hands went up my neck, tugging my hair.

Despite the kiss, my mind was running away. It was thinking about someone else.

Someone with blonde hair and icy blue eyes.

Startled by the image in my mind, I broke away, trying to find my breath. Angela was breathing hard, cheeks slightly red, and looking straight at me. Angela had a disappointed look on her face, standing and watching my reaction. I looked at her, and I saw her mouth turned into a frown.

I shook my head, unbuckling the seatbelt and opening the car door.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I don't think I can do it," I rushed, feeling disoriented.

Angela recoiled back. Her face turning beet red. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that like I knew-" she ranted, toying with the end of her hair that was not slightly frizzed.

"Don't worry about it." I meant it. Something about her felt genuine, and I just was thrown off guard by it. "This talk...helped. I really appreciate it. Let's hang out soon but this time, without the racist asshole."

"Definitely. As friends," she added, her breathing became normally. She gave me an small wave and an unsure smile. "I will talk to you soon."

I waved at her awkwardly while she drove away without a goodbye, breathing hard. I ran my fingers through my hair, breathing hard at the image.

I walked into the home, trying to process what just happened. I expected to be back to an empty home like I normally did. What I didn't expect was to see my younger brother standing in the kitchen. He froze in front of the stove, looking up at me.

"Good morning," Carlos said, hair wet and wearing shorts and a graphic t-shirt that looked oddly like mine. He was in the kitchen, scooping batter and pouring it into the pan.

I blinked.

"Carlos? What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked with confusion.

I didn't remember Carlos being here at all. Then it hit me that Dad mentioned he was going to pick up Carlos the next weekend. Has that time already came? Have I been caught up with all of this to notice that it has been weeks. Carlos must've came back during the time while I was out.

"Because of that, you won't get any pancakes." Carlos gestured to the small stack of pancakes he was carefully building on his plate. He rolled his eyes before he grinned. "Dad picked me up from the airport, but nice of you to remember."

I completely forgot Dad mentioned picking up Carlos. He mentioned it a few times but I didn't realize today was the day that it was going to happen. I looked around and noticed it was just the two of us in the kitchen. The rest of the house was filled with silence.

"Where's Dad anyways?" I asked.

"He's at work," Carlos responded, deftly flipping his pancake.

"On a Saturday?" I asked skeptically. Carlos shrugged.

"Who knows. I was napping when he left." He put the spatula down and leaned on the counter. "Anyways. I'm going to go over to Abuela's house later to meet up with the rest of the family. Care to join?"

"You are inviting me?" I asked with confusion. He typically wasn't the one who ask me to do anything.

"Well I also need someone to drop me off there, so yes."

I gave him the middle finger. "Fine. How was camp?"

Carlos began to go off about camp while flipping pancakes. I tried to listen about the activities he did, but I could only focus on how normal Carlos looked. His hair was neatly slick from his shower, but his eyes were clear. His voice was active, and there were even a few moments he was smiling about what he did. Dad insisted Carlos should go to camp to get some normalcy, and it seemed to have worked.

He looked good.

"How can you do all of that?" I slipped. My mouth clamped shut when I realized he was still in mid-conversation and I just interrupted him. He froze, his smile before he flexed his arms.

"Lots of muscles and being devilishly good looking," he joked before started to flex his thin arms. in front of my face. I swatted his arm away.

"Shut up." His arm came to my face, his laughter growing loudly as I shoved him off me. He returned to putting pancakes onto a plate and walked towards the table. I followed him. "I meant the will to do anything after everything that has happened. I just felt like a mess."

Carlos smile disappeared. He slowly sat down, picking up his fork and cutting his pancake into bite size pieces. His eyes focused on the pancakes, taking a bit and shoving it into his mouth.

"I don't know. I just moved on. You should do the same," Carlos said dismissively. I froze at his words.

"Move on?" I echoed, my voice a little harshly.

My crude voice surprised me. Carlo's eyes widened at the sudden change in tone. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching me with new caution.

"Yeah. Dad said we need to move on. We have to Nathaniel," he insisted.

My throat closed at the thought of leaving her. My head was shaking rapidly at his words. "Accepting her death is different than leaving her behind. She's our Mom. She raised and cared for us in ways Dad has never accomplished. Why would I want to forget that?" I asked.

He responded quickly, "Because if you don't, then it will just fucking hurt everything you think about her."

I don't want to forget when she read all those books to me before I slept or all the nights she stayed up when I was sick. She was there for every soccer game and recital. She was the one that got me singing in the first place. I wasn't going to throw that all in the past.

"She doesn't deserve to be left behind like that," I finally had the courage to say.

He got up suddenly, his fork falling against the plate. "Well she left us behind the minute she killed herself. She didn't have to. She wanted to leave. Her choice. Don't you get it?" Carlos snapped back harshly.

I sucked my breath in because I knew he was right deep down. The idea of dragging Mom in vain seemed wrong as much as it was true. I squeezed my eyes tightly, taking a few shaky breaths.

"She was suffering for months. We weren't the ones diagnosed with cancer. We weren't the ones who sat through months of chemotherapy with side effects before we were told it didn't work. We didn't do any of that," I attempted to reason, ignoring the dull pain settling comfortably in my chest.

Carlos looked away, wiping his eyes furiously. I thought he was better than me with his ability to smile. I thought it was me that felt the way he did. There was something comforting knowing that it wasn't just me. It made me feel less alone.

"She chose to leave us then," Carlos snapped, his voice cracking at the last few words. His cheeks turning slightly red, his hands were shaking by his sides. "Why did she do it? She knew we were going to have to find her like that."

The pain was unbearable to see him like this. I instantly regretted asking.

"Look, I'm sorry for bringing this up. Maybe I shouldn't have. Things have been.." I blew all air out of my mouth. "Fucking suck out here."

Carlos nodded his head slowly, his eyes tinged red. "I can imagine. Did you see the cows? I don't think I have ever seen a cow in real life until then."

"It's so fucking hot here too," I added, which got a laughter out of him. "Wait till I tell you about the racist asshole I met."

We laughed. Carlos sat back down slowly, looking at his pancakes before pushing them away. "At least we got each other."

I nodded, feeling more hopeful the for the first time in a while. Angela was right about bottling it up. I felt better and less lonely. Even then though, I couldn't get the thought of Mom never wanting to return to Alabama out of my head.

Glancing at the bracelet around my wrist, I couldn't agree with what David said earlier. My gut was telling me to not let this ago. That there was something more about her that I didn't know.

Something important.

"Can I ask something else?" I asked. Carlos looked at me warily before nodding his head.

"Sure. What's up?" He picked up another piece of his pancake and shoved it in his mouth.

"Did you know why Mom never took us to Alabama?"

He paused for a moment. After that, he shrugged. "I had no idea. Mom always said she couldn't afford it. I mean money has always been tight with us so that could be true. I thought it didn't make sense because we have gone to Puerto Rico and Mexico before. Why?"

I explained what Abuela told me to Carlos. He nodded, little change in reaction. I pulled out my wrist to show the bracelet, which Carlos simply nodded. When I finished, he was chewing his pancakes thoughtfully.

"You don't seem surprised," I observed, noting his calmness. He focusing on his pancakes, his fingers rapping against the table.

"I just have this weird memory with Mom..." Carlos began, his voice trailing off.

My back stiffened and I straightened up against the chair.

"Share. Now," I demanded. I showed my wrist with the bracelet "Does it have anything to do with this?" Carlos shook his head."Well did she talk about someone named Rose Miller?"

Carlos froze at my question, looking at me with wide eyes. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly

"Spill," I insisted.

"Well few months before Mom...you know...did what she did," Carlos struggled to say, taking a deep breath at the last part. He closed his eyes briefly before looking up. "She was still in chemotherapy. You know how the chemo made her a little loopy at times?"

I nodded. The chemotherapy really fried her brain that resulted in memory loss and delirium, typically during the session. There were times whens he would be confused: moments of not knowing who someone is, getting up and thinking its morning and beginning a new routine, and not be able to say words in the right order.

"It was my turn to go with mom for her chemo session. While we were there, she started to act up. She just held onto me and kept calling me Rose. I didn't know who that was but she kept talking to me and apologizing as if I was Rose." Carlos stopped talking to me, and looked weirdly. "Do you know who she is talking about?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out. What did she apologize for?" I pressed.

Carlos sighed, he was using his fork to push the pieces of his pancake around his plate.

"Are you sure want to hear this?" Carlos asked with hesitation. "I didn't think much of it at the time because it sounded ridiculous but I don't know if you want to hear it."

I nodded my head slowly. His voice headed a warning, but I couldn't understand what he was talking about.

"Yeah. I think I have to."

Carlos took another deep breath, rubbing his eyes. When he looked up again, he looked straight at me, brown eyes boring back at me.

"She apologized for killing Rose."

Author's Note: Sorry for the longest chapter. I have tried to cut it down but I'm at 3.5K words .I haven't updated it in a while because I didn't think anyone was reading this to be frank! Thank you for everyone who is!

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