Remains

rain

It was the kind of thoughtful night where you could listen to the patter of steady raindrops until your eyelids fell shut, knowing however bitter and blue the weather seemed out there, you had comfort. Each drip played as a therapeutic background noise, hugging your ears and letting the mind wander from its stressful situations to the more ideal versions of things set in dreams and gold tinted visions. Problems soon melted away into watery images behind eyes leaving nothing but slow deep breathing, and the patter, patter, patter.

One imagination flickered away under heavy duvets and blankets. The loud imagination of a quiet person. Pictures of blurry places, bright colours, and in the background, amongst all the noise, a face smiling in focus. A boy, 13 or so. Messy brown hair and warm ivory skin only a shade darker than that of the teen laid silent asleep. The unique features looked as if carved by the same sculptor, painted by the same artist as the boy dreaming. Yet this image was an old one.

The picture soon moved on. Morphing into other shapes and shadows. Figures running, laughing, speeding up. Expressions twisted and contorted until another scene was set, only momentarily, just to be restirred in the mixing pot of this boys head.

As the rain dried out as well as the night, Lucian was woken by a lazy shout.
"Get up I need you Luc. Get up!"
A small woman stormed into the room. He fought bedding and a sleepy head to raise himself to his feet and fumbled around the desk beside him for glasses which he slid on beneath waves of curly blonde hair. He strode to the front door and yanked it open for his mother to go to work.

"You really need to get either you or the door fixed." he commented only half joking, standing in his underwear and a large t-shirt.
"You know you need to get another appointment if your arm is getting worse. Plus I don't want to have to get up at 5:30 am every morning." He added.

She gave a tired smile back and left hurriedly.
"I'm working late tonight so sort tea out for us. Love you, bye."
The small woman called getting in the car and fiddling frustratingly with keys. Within seconds, it had speeded off. A sharp frost had coated the grass and breathe hung in the air in miniature clouds. The heavy rain of the night had caused sparkling crystals of ice to form a dangerous cover over the drive and road.

After his mother had gone, Lucian began on breakfast. Not that he was hungry but since he was up it was something to do. The kitchen was cramped and more noticeably, a mess. Since his mother's arm had worsened she hadn't been able to keep up with the house work so any cleaning fell to Lucian to do. He sleepily assembled the meal of toast and strong coffee whilst clearing some old dishes and packets away and munched on it ponderously. He knew he dreamt last night, he always did, but what was it? He thought and thought but no, nothing came to mind.

7am came round fast and that meant time to take on the slog of getting ready to go to school. The tiresome daily routine of mixing with people he hardly knew and people who didn't seem to want to know him. The family, or what was left of it, had only moved in a month or so before and starting in year 10 was tricky since everyone was set firmly in friendship groups and relationships. Even the cast outs were settled as being cast outs, undisturbed, and so Luc kept himself to himself and only himself. Some were friendly, some had conversations and sat next to him at lunch but none remembered his name or bothered to chat again the next day. However, it may have been lonely but it was preferable to being picked on and bullied like previous schools, he noted. There was always something about the way he never fought back against bigger guys' pestering. He was too skinny, too nerdy, too quiet, too self contained and as a newcomer, these flaws were punished.

7:45 and the bus wasn't far away. Carrying as little as possible Lucian struggled open the jammed front door. But wait. Was that maths catch up tonight or Wednesday? Unsure, he scurried to the calendar stuck on the side of the fridge. Monday 6th February: Maths after school.
"Ugh" he muttered. He could ace every essay given to him but in maths he melted.
He swung his bag to head back to the door but a mark on the calendar caught his eye. A tiny black circle and the words 'Sam, five' written besides it in a scrawly version of his mum's tiny writing. 6th February. 6th....
It took a few seconds to link the name and the date together but once he had it hit him like a mountain.
His heart started pounding and his throat tightened slightly.
" Five whole years."
His eyes were distant, emotional, remembering.
His mind walked back to his dream and paced from one feeling to another.
The clear face was all in his vision. Five years ago was the last time the friendly features of his older brother were seen yet the picture had never faded. Five years of searching, moving, forgetting, regretting and attempting to let go of what had happened. He was the one who had to be strong for his mum when Sam went, and again when his dad left. And he was stronger now; hard times strengthen you up. But it didn't make him stop wishing it never happened. It didn't make him stop dreaming of a happier place with Sam looking over him.

The sound of brakes and a big engine signalled the bus had pulled up a few doors down. Slowly, cautiously, Lucian tread along the pathway and towards the busyness of the bus, not able to shake Sam from his mind.