Desperate Measures

Turn around.

Turn around.

But I can't, I've gone too far. I don't know how long I've been driving, a couple hours at least. I just couldn't take it anymore, it was overwhelming, I had felt trapped.

*4 hours earlier*

12:07 am. I sighed as I closed the lid of my laptop. I had just wasted another hour of my life, unsuccessfully browsing through the program descriptions for a local college. It was late November, I had recently graduated from highschool in June, but decided to take a year off, you know to find myself and all that. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, but staying at home definetly was not on the list. I guess I really didn't have a choice though, for now. I thought things were supposed to be different, I should have a boyfriend by now, we should be attending university together, living in dorms, going to parties. Instead I am an 18 year old who still lives at home with her parents and younger brother. I actually went all throughout highschool without having a boyfriend. I mean apparently I was quite attractive, finding this true on a number of occasions when I noticed guys checking me out and smirking at me in the hallways, but none of them had ever approached me. The reason behind that must be my personality then. I think of myself as a nice person, I try atleast, but I am deathly shy. For someone that doesn't know me, my lack of initiating a conversation must come off as something rather rude.

My head abruptly turned when I heard a loud slam travelling throughout my house, from the basement. I hauled myself off the couch and made my way into the kitchen. My brother must have been the cause of the slam, closing his room door, as I noticed his absence from the chair around the island he was seated at earlier. My assumptions were proved correct as his obnoxiously loud music started playing, thumping through the floor I was standing on. This september had been his start of freshman year at highschool. I always thought I had been close with my brother, we rarely fought, and were always there for eachother. Lately he has seemed so distant, from everyone, everything. I have tried talking to him, but the best I have recieved for my efforts are one word answers. My parents say he is just going through that hormonal teenage boy stage where they all develop an attitude problem. Maybe thats true, still, I can't help but feel upset when he turns to his music for comfort, instead of me.

I slowly make my way to the staircase, passing the large window in the front room. I hear what I thought to be a vehicle door shutting, glancing to the window to see if my parents had arrived home from their Christmas party. I was a little disappointed when my eyes landed on an empty driveway. I don't know why I worry about them so much when they go out for a few drinks, my head starts imagining awful car accident scenarios if they stay out a few minutes later then said. I brushed off the developing horrific thoughts and proceeded up the stairs into my bedroom. After changing into shorts and an oversized t shirt, I collapse onto my bed, quickly deciding upon reading until I fall asleep.

Half an hour later, I stare up at my ceiling. My brother usually turns his music off by now, the harder I try to force myself to sleep, the louder it seems to get. After an inner battle with myself to get up and tell him to shut it off, I come to the conclusion I need to get out of the warm confines of my bed in order to recieve any sleep tonight. I throw back the covers and sit up, cursing as my feet come into contact with the cold hardwood floor. Grabbing my robe, I wrap it around my small frame as I descend the two flights of stairs to my basement. I knock on my brothers door, rubbing circles on my temples, the music is giving me a headache. When my brother doesn't open I knock again, louder, becoming impatient.

"Cal! Can you turn your music down please? I'm trying to sleep!"

Still no answer.

"Cal? Stop ignoring me!"

Ugh. Boys. I turn the handle, grateful it isn't locked. I slowly open the door, my eyes immediatly adjusting to the dim light emitted from his desk lamp. I make my way to over to his bed, nearly tripping on all the clothes he has piled on his floor. He is sprawled out on his back, god knows how he fell asleep while his ringing music blasts throughout the small room. The music is coming from his computer on the otherside of his bed. I start walking towards it, reaching for the mouse when I notice Cals hand hanging off the side of the mattress. I swear my heart had stopped. So many things were running through my mind as I stared at the bottle of sleeping pills, still grasped firmly in his hand.

"Cal!" I rushed over to him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking.

"Wake up, wake up!" Tears were rolling down my cheeks, my mind still unable to comprehend the current situation. He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. I felt like I was spinning in circles, my eyes scanned the room for his cellphone, dialing 9-1-1 as soon as I got a hold of it.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

As soon as I heard a voice on the other end, the words came tumbling out of my mouth.

"M-My brother, h-he isn't, isn't breathing!" I started to hyperventilate, unable to draw in enough air as sobs escaped my lips. I gave them my name and address, my hands shaking as I desperately tried to hold on to the phone. They told me they were on their way, my hands dropping the device and I was instantly back at my brothers side. My lips trembled as I leant down, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. My baby brother.

When I lifted my head, tears rolled off my face, splashing onto his cheeks. I turned away, hearing the loud sirens as they got closer to my house.

Everything after that had been a blur. I remember standing in the corner of my living room, my vision clouded with tears as I watched the paramedics, my parents, running in and out of the house. No one had seen this coming, how could this have happened to us? To me? I couldn't stay here, I had to leave. There was nothing for me in this small town, I want more then what Carleton Place has to offer. I don't want to die here. Not like him.

I sprinted up to my bedroom, my eyes still burning from crying. I pulled out my suitcase, stuffing it with anything I might need. The last items I grabbed were a pillow and blanket, along with my truck keys. With my arms full, I ran down my stairs and out my front door. When I reached my vehicle, I heard my mother yell to me. I swiftly turned, meeting her eyes as she stood in the doorway. She was crying, frightened. She was broken.

"Brooke! Brooklyn, don't leave!"

I turned to look at the ground, swallowing my fear as I made the hardest decision of my life. Tears continued to stain my cheeks as I looked up, meeting her frightened gaze as I mouthed the words,

"I'm sorry."

She ran down the steps, screaming my name. But it was too late. I threw my things into my truck, and drove off into the night, not daring a glance back.