My Name Is Memory

2 7 . 1 1 . 2 0 1 5

"Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number — Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you — Ye are many — they are few."

•°•°•°•°•

To the one from the star,

They say if I turned towards the sun, the gloomy shadows of my burden would fall behind me; it would expose me to the million shades of orange and crimson -colours that gave us hope.

But it never seemed to work for me. The shadows never fell behind. It pretended to stay out of sight; crawling up my back, leaking through my skin, seeping into my bones until I was corrupted by its darkness.

The orange hues of the sun, the riots of every shades of yellow and pink in the sky couldn't chase that feeling away. I have always carried that burden with me: the fact that I was responsible for my brother's death.

If you think about it, I don't know if you'd want to blame my parents for being so hard on me after that. I did take away their son from them. Maybe not physically, but no one can deny that my carelessness was no better than spading John's grave with my own bare hands.

All I had to do was take him to the doctor; get him the treatment he needed; and drive back home to our parents to celebrate John's sixth birthday.

Mom had everything planned for the day. She had visited the grocery store the day before to buy stuff she needed for the big family dinner. Dad was coming back home early from work; and I had purchased this huge teddy bear that John had seen and loved the other day in the mall when we went for his birthday shopping.

All kinds of arrangements had been made to mark this day special for John. But I had to go and destroy it...

I snatched away a child from his mother's arms. I killed all aspirations of seeing his dad smile with pride when the six year old grew up and received his graduation certificate. I shattered every hope of his sister watching his brother laugh and fall in love.

I killed my own brother.

And if by any chance you happen to be watching me now writing this -- no, you cannot convince me otherwise.

I had come to deal with this pain; the responsibility; the vulnerability in my mother's voice every time she mentioned John. I couldn't stomach the agony in her eyes, or the way dad's anger lit to flames everytime he saw me.

He hated me. Mom hated me.

They still hate me.

And I hate myself.

But then, in this gloomy darkness -- within this cursed blanket of the night that had fallen over my life, I remember watching a star fall from the sky.

It was enchanting and burning, smouldering with a pride that radiated celestial beauty.

And I was captivated.

I wonder even now: Were you the miracle I had always been looking for?

People residing with me never understood my pain. I had watched my little brother die. But you, a star, running across the vast expanse of this universe, miles and light years away, heard my weeping, dying heart.

And you decided you'd be my miracle.

I never thought I would live to see the day when another living being held me in his arms, pressed his cheek against the top of my head and whispered 'good night'; kissed my forehead and called me 'a beautiful human'. 

Thank you, for everything.

•°•°•°•°•

A/N

I'm not very sure about this part tbh. I really need to go back and rewrite this part I think because I am not certain if the emotions were there at all. >.<

Please let me know your thoughts seesh.

Either way, thank you so much for reading!

~Jenna