062 - Memory

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Song of the Chapter: My Friend - Tristam (Drumstep)

This song makes me cry every time I listen to it. The main reason I love this song, other than the beautiful chords and Tristam's fantastic voice, is that it's singing about true friendship. It's not a love song. Friends are just as important. The words are amazing ...

*Also this chapter is rated C for caution (trigger warnings). If this influences you to do anything except help yourself or someone else (ex. self harm), please stop reading. Thanks.*

(Tristam's POV)

I can't sleep. I can only think about Noisestorm's story and the memories of this house. I try my best to calm myself, but I can't seem to do it. I can't hear Monstercat's breathing, but I can certainly hear Noisestorm's. I can tell he's asleep, but his breaths sound painful and scratchy. He's tensed up and in pain, and I wish I could help him, but I know that I've done all that I can. The next step is to let him heal himself.

Trying to sleep isn't working, so I quietly stand up and stretch. I walk to the window and look out, breathing in the night air with relief.

"Braken?"

"Leo?" His voice is shaking.

"Hey." I sit down on the bed and he raises himself up. "What are you thinking about?" I don't get an answer. I look down and catch a glisten of something dark and wet. "Braken, what - "

I reach for him, but he flinches away and shields his arm from my view. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." I gently take his hand and roll up his sleeve, revealing jagged slashes up his wrist. I gasp and my heart breaks, feeling tears in my eyes. "Braken, who did this to you?"

"I did," he says, his voice cracking.

"Oh, Braken ... "

I turn away from the window and wander to the dresser, where I open the top drawer. The picture and the notebook are still there. I pick up the notebook and flip through the pages, admiring his artwork once again. I get to the back page, the one with the broken mirror and the words that read "SHATTERED FRAME OF MIND". Behind that is his suicide note.

Leo,
I'm sorry.
I'll always be there with you.
Braken

The picture is the only one of Braken with his parents. His mother was ripped out, but then taped back on, and the glass on the picture frame is cracked. I pick up the picture and tenderly touch my friend, wishing he would smile like he does in the photograph.

"Braken - "

"I hate him!" His face is red and streaked with tears. His voice cracks as he screams. "I hate him!"

"Braken, please - " I can see he's driving himself crazy.

He whirls on me and stumbles, his bleeding leg giving way. "Stop talking to me! You don't know anything!" He spins around again, swiping the picture from the dresser. I try to stop him, but he shoves my help away. "I HATE HIM!" He hurls the picture across the room, ignoring my protests and efforts to help him. The glass shatters as the picture falls to the floor, the family inside as broken as the shards.

I walk to the door, avoiding the creaky boards, and rest my hand on the knob. Before opening the door, I glance back to make sure my two friends are still sleep. They are, so I pull it open and start down the stairs.

I can hear Braken's uncle talking quietly with another man in the kitchen. I wait silently for a while, unable to hear what they're discussing, and finally, the stranger leaves as mysteriously as he came. Braken's uncle enters his own room to settle down for the night, and I creep down the steps, into the living room.

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