Tragedy

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It's been four months since the fire now, and I miss Mikey so much. He was more than my baby brother, for he was also my best friend, my picket fence, a talented musician, and the subject of most of Pete's songwriting. He was the one who helped me when we lost our parents all those years ago, and now, I have no one.

I wish I could turn back time to the good old days, when our Mama sang us to sleep, but now I just sit in silence.

"Gee, you should eat something," Uncle Dan sighs, handing me a slice of pizza and a coffee. "Ever since Mikey - you know, the fire, you've barely touched any food."

"I'm not hungry, Uncle Dan," I say.

"Oh," Uncle Dan says sadly. "You know, Brendon came by the record store today. He wanted to know how you were doing."

"Really?" I ask. I'm surprised that none of my friends ever forgot about me. I haven't talked to any of them since Mikey's funeral. But again, I've ignored all of their phone calls.

Uncle Dan continues, "Yeah, and being Brendon, he was wearing something totally inappropriate. Actually, I don't think he was wearing anything at all."

"Only Brendon!" I laugh. Uncle Dan nods and giggles some more, before glancing at my still-unopened acceptance letter from the music school.

"You know, the Institute called," adds Uncle Dan. "They said you can still sign up for class, even though you'll have missed a little bit of work. They wrote a letter wishing you well."

"Cool," I say. "I don't care." Uncle Dan sighs and leaves to feed Hemingway, so I toss the acceptance letter in my drawer, where I can forget about it.

I log back into my computer and see that Pete, Hayley, Frank, and Brendon have sent me yet another message. Losing Mikey hit them all hard - especially me and Pete, but he's been coping pretty well, even after we also lost Professor Wilson. Hesitantly, I click the video to play it.

"Hi, Gee. We just wanted to see how you were doing," says Pete.

"I miss you now and then, Gee," Frank adds.

Even Brendon is strangely fully clothed and hasn't used any profanity. "I wish I could walk a lonely road all the way to your house and give you a big hug," he says.

Hayley is about to say something, but I turn the video off. I've hit an all time low, and it's never getting any better than this.

I walk around the area of the room where Mikey used to sleep. His glasses, which I kept after the fire, lay on the bed. I try to sit on the bed, but I slip and hit my foot on a button.

"Ouch!" I yelp, looking at all that pain in my foot. Suddenly, a robot with a fedora inflates and comes out from underneath Mikey's bed.

"Holy smokes!" I gasp. "Patrick?"

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