Hey loves, Welcome to the first official chap of Life as We Know it. Thanks for stopping by, Enjoy.

(song is PCH by Jaden and Willow Smith. They're actually really good at making music. You should give it a listen.)

XX

It's now or never, December. You can do this. You have to do this. I prepared myself to tell Tommy the truth of what happened to our mother. I didn't even know how I was going to do this. Oh, yea, Tommy, mom died. And she was a drug addict. Surprise! Ugh, I was honestly hopeless.

I mean, my mother just died. I was an orphan. And I'm not crying my eyes out. What's wrong with me? I'm a monster who isn't capable of having feelings.

Eh, well, that's not exactly true. I actually felt too much; I felt everything. And that's the problem. But if I were to succumb to those feelings, I'd be trapped within my mind, not being able to function. Truth is, I'm scared of my feelings. Sure, I didn't experience too many terrible things in my life, but the few things that I did live through were very tragic. I felt if I let go of the tight leash I had on my mind, I would spiral down into an inescapable black hole of depression and dark thoughts. My feelings surround me in the form of dark and murky waters, the current crashing against my weak and helpless body, trying to drown me within myself, pulling me further and further from sanity. Sometimes, I feel like my head'll get pulled under at any minute, my breath would being harshly ripped from my lungs until I am gone forever.

I can't let that happen. I had Tommy to look after and I would never, ever think to put him through that. He's my life line; my raft, the only thing that kept my head above water.

It was easier to just push those feelings into the abyss of my thoughts, holding them down for as long as I could. I'd rather be numb when it came to emotions, that way things remained uncomplicated. My mother dying deeply affected me, but I couldn't show that, or I'd be a goner. She was my best friend.

Ok, that's enough of that. Too personal.

I called Tommy into my Aunt Clara's guest room which we currently shared until she was able to clear out her junk room for me. He sat on the corner of the bed, his curls bouncing around as he plopped down. Me and Tommy looked very similar, with the same caramel colored skin, dark brown eyes, and full head of wild curls, but my hair was black while Tommy's was brown. He reminded me of my father.

"Um, how are you enjoying Aunt Clara's house?"

"Oh, it's great! Auntie Clara let me play in her backyard and me and Etty were playing cops and robbers. We got cookies and milk too. I got lost a few times though, Auntie Clara and Uncle Will's house is so big! I wonder why Mama didn't let us come here more often." He rambles on excitedly. Truth was, my mom and Aunt Clara had had a falling out years ago over my mom's drug use. Aunt Clara recommended rehab and my mother recommended Aunt Clara mind her own business. We haven't seen or talked to Aunt Clara since.

"That's great Tommy! I'm glad you're having fun, but, uh, y'see, wellll...." I stammered, twiddling my fingers nervously. I swallowed multiple times before continuing. "Um, Tommy, Mama, she's," Inhale. Exhale. "She's gone to Heaven and she's singing with the angels." I whispered, the urge to vomit becoming slightly overwhelming in my stomach.

I watched as my baby brother's expression slowly morphed into the definition of tragedy and disbelief. His eyes completely shattered, causing me to look away, not being able to bear it. No eight year old should feel this. His bottom lip quivered uncontrollably and I nearly broke down at the sight of my younger brother in such pain. Tommy was only two when my father passed, so he'd never really experienced any of this before.

"Y-y-you m-mean Mama's d-d-dead?" He said in a thick voice, coated in heartache.

"Y-yea buddy. B-b-but she's in a better place now, right? She's with God and they're having a welcome home party for Mama. I bet God even gave her those flying powers she always talked about." I comforted him as he crashed into my arms, squeezing my midsection tightly.

I felt my shirt dampen with tears of sorrow as Tommy shook violently in my arms as I rocked him. I rubbed his back in soothing circles as he tucked his head into my neck. I didn't know what else to do to comfort my heartbroken younger brother. I was going through the same thing, but I didn't showcase my emotions for the sake of him.

"What h-h-happened to her?" He whispered so quietly, I almost didn't hear him.

"Well, when Mama would say that she was going to do her business, she was-she was using d-d-drugs. She, oh gosh, she overdosed." I winced at the harsh confession, not sugar-coating it.

He didn't say much else after that as I held him and soon, I felt his body still, telling me he had fallen asleep. He must be exhausted from all the crying. I tucked him under the covers and wrapped my arms around him, kissing his forehead as a traitorous tear slips from my eyes, causing me to quickly swipe it away. I find myself eventually dozing off, but right before I fell asleep, Tommy mumbles something.

"December?" He murmured sleepily.

"Yea Tom?"

"I knew Mama used drugs. I didn't think it'd go this far." 

After that revelation, he nodded off, leaving me shocked, but too tired to do anything about it. I drifted off into dreams of angels and dark oceans.

~.~.~

I heard a knock on the door as my aunt peeked her head in the door with red eyes. She had been crying again. Well, I don't think she ever stopped crying from yesterday. 

She was dressed in a faded Beatles shirt and patchy overalls. Her shirt was oversized and covered in splattered paint. Clara was a really good artist. She used to send me special paintings on each birthday and I looked forward to them. 

I didn't know where they were. 

"Dinner's ready honey," She spoke softly. "Come down when you're ready." She sniffed and gently closed the door.

At the sound of her voice, Tommy stirred a bit in my arms and his eyes fluttered open. At first there was a look of peaceful content from his nap, but at he slowly remembered the news from earlier, his face contorted in pain and his eyes began leaking again. I pulled him into me and kissed the top of his head. We'd get through this together.

He tried to speak, but had difficulty due to his sore throat. I handed him water from the night stand and he gulped it down greedily. When he finished the glass, he was ready to speak.

"Please tell me that was a nightmare, Dessie."

"I'm afraid not bud." my voice cracked. I said nothing else, waiting.

"We have no parents Dessie."

"I know."

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't I'll always be with you. You're my life."

"Promise?" His small pinky was held out to me.

The broken pieces of my heart shattered into a million more. I wrapped my pinky around his.

"On my life."

He seemed a bit better with the reassurance and I asked him a question I believe I already knew the answer to.

"You hungry Tommy? Aunt Clara's made dinner."

"No. I don't feel like eating." He replied. I knew how he felt. I couldn't stomach anything since yesterday. I woke up 3 times in the night to vomit the little food in my stomach. It was mostly dry heaving.

"But you need to eat buddy," I insisted. "Aunt Clara made a special dinner just for us. And I don't want you getting sick from not eating. So, how about it? For me?" I waited patiently.

"Alright Dessie." He gave in, grabbing my hand as we made our way down the spiral staircase and into the spacious dining room. Sitting at the mahogany dining table was my younger cousin Juliette, but don't even think about calling her that. She was a tomboy in every sense of the word and would challenge you to a wrestling match if you called her by her actual name. She preferred the self-given nickname, Etty.

I noticed that Etty's hands were covered in dirt from her adventures outside. She was trying to hide them under the table, but my aunt's sharp gaze wasn't having it. "Etty, go wash your hands darling." she lightly requested.

"But mommmm," she dragged out. "I'm starved. Can't I wash them after?"

"Juliette, go wash you hands now missy." Aunt Clara left no room for discussion. Etty winced and headed to the bathroom, returning 15 seconds later with a growling stomach.

Sitting next to Etty was my other cousin, Henry. We're the same age, but he's a few months older than me. We actually used to be best friends when we were younger, joined at the hip. Before boys were cute and playing spies was seen as 'uncool', it was me and Henry against the world. When our moms stopped speaking, we saw each other less and less until we were practically strangers. He was typing furiously on his phone.

I sat down and Tommy, not wanting to separate from me, climbed on my lap. This'd make dinner hard to eat, but I'd manage.

Aunt Clara prepared lasagna with garlic bread. After Etty said grace, we all dug into our food. I pick at my bread, seeing as my stomach was still sensitive and Tommy slowly ate his lasagna.

10 minutes into dinner, my uncle Will walked in with his briefcase and loosened his blue tie. He worked as a lawyer and had long hours so it wasn't surprising that this was the first time I'd seen him all day. He walked to Aunt Clara, giving her a chaste kiss, looking into her eyes as to make sure she was doing okay. He moved around the table, kissing Etty on her cheek, which she quickly wiped off, ruffling Henry's hair, and kissing my and Tommy's foreheads. 

"How you holding up Dess?" he asked, truly concerned.

"I'm taking it one day at a time, thanks Uncle Will." I gave him a small smile and a slight nod as I turned back to my bread.

As we finished up dinner, I offered to help with the dishes but Aunt Clara shooed me away, telling me to go relax.

As I passed Henry's slightly cracked room door, I heard him talking on the phone about a party. From what I could tell, he's pretty popular at his school. The school I would be attending in a few weeks. Not only was I not looking forward to the first day of school, I wasn't looking forward to leaving my old school. It's not like I had much friends anyways, besides Ms. Georgine, the school librarian, but I didn't want the attention that being the new kid came with.

Henry shocked me out of my daze when he called out my name.

"Hey December, would you wanna come to a party that my friend Jay is having? Its an end of summer thing with a bonfire and everything. Mom said I could only go if you came with me." He pleaded with his eyes. I honestly didn't want to go. I was and never will be the party type. But I didn't want to ruin his chances of going. So I did something I really didn't want to do. I agreed.

"Sure when is it?"

He beamed at me, an otherwise concealed dimple making it's appearance on his left cheek. "It's tomorrow at 10. Thanks December."

"No problem. Good Night Henry."

He makes a static sound as if he is using a walkie talkie and holds his fist to his mouth, talking into it. "Sleep well Em." He smiled at me, using the nickname that he used to call me.

I made the same static sound and held my fist up to my mouth, a faint smile creeping onto my lips. "Roger that," a laugh passes through my lips. "H-bomb." A fit of giggles erupts from me at the absurd nickname I had coined for him when we were younger.

He laughed along with me, wiping a tear from his eye. When we sobered up, he looks me in the eye. "It's good to have you back December." he mumbled.

"It's good to be back Henry. I've missed my partner in crime." I told him sincerely.

I shut his door and walk into my room, seeing Tommy laying stretched out on the bed. His eyes are closed and his forehead is wrinkled in concentration. I quietly walked up to him and barely hear as he softly whispers. "Keep my mama safe, God. I'll be good for Aunt Clara and Uncle Will and December. I promise. And, also God, please help Dessie. She hasn't cried yet." With that, he rolled over and goes to sleep.

He didn't understand, but I can't cry. I kept it in for him. I crawled in next to him and he snuggles into my arms. I stayed awake with my tormenting thoughts for the night.

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XX

Hey y'all. So how'd you like it? This was hard for me to write because I wanted to do the characters justice by displaying the right type and amount of emotions, but I've never experienced a close death in my family, thank God, so hopefully this is somewhat realistic. I want to produce the best work for my peeps. Don't be afraid to leave suggestions and critiques if need be.

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Love ya,

-Trin<3