Fragments

10.0

10.0

We pull into the parking lot of the cemetery quicker than I want to. Carter grabs his six-pack, no concern about having it out in the open during the daytime. It doesn't matter, though, because as I get out of the car, I realize we're the only ones here.

Rows of snow-covered tombstones line the graveyard, surrounded by an old stone fence. It's a bitter day, cold with clouds and as gloomy as it gets. Trevor and I used to spend these days getting as numb as we could.

I follow Carter, wondering if I should say something to lighten the mood until he stops at the iron gates, stuck open in the snow.

"Um," he doesn't meet my eyes at first, "I don't actually know...I don't know where he's buried."

I swallow my nerves. "We can look for him."

He nods, looking as equally uncomfortable as I am. "Thanks."

We start on opposite sides, following the rows of names of people who have no meaning to me. I wonder how many people will glance over Trevor's name, barely reading the inscription before moving on. Would anyone count the years between the dates and wonder why he died so young, or think about what had happened for him to have ended up there?

He was an awful person, but did that mean he deserved to die? Somedays I think so, but today, as I search for his name in stone, I'm almost afraid to find him. He was a person, too. Did his choices justify his death?

"Piper."

When I look up, Carter tries to smile but gives up. Nothing about what has brought us here makes either of us want to smile. He's standing at the far end of the graveyard, where the newer graves would be. How long was I lost in my thoughts?

"I, uh, found him."

The snow crunches beneath my boots as I make my way towards Carter, suddenly feeling more nervous. I try to remind myself that Trevors not actually there, that he can't talk to me or pass any judgement, but the thought makes me only feel worse. Maybe I would feel different if he could talk to me. Yell at me, scream, react. But if he could, he would be here, and I wouldn't be standing beside his brother, staring down at his grave.

His name carved into stone doesn't make me feel any different. His grave looks like any other, though newer, and much, much simpler. No doubt Carter's parents didn't want to shell out money for their son who didn't deserve a funeral.

Neither of us says anything, and in the silence, I realize we're standing on him. I wonder if that's disrespectful. Regardless it makes me a little uncomfortable, but I don't move from beside Carter, who's lost in thought.

"You okay?" It's weird asking the adult that, but I don't know what else I'm supposed to do in this situation. Death and everything around it is relatively new to me, but it's what ties us together, why we're here.

He blinks a few times. "Yeah. I was just thinking about everything, you know, that brought him here."

I think about how it was partially me who helped him end up here until Carter pulls a beer from out of the six-pack. He hands me it, still cold from the chill, and then grabs two more. After setting down the rest in the snow, he tells me to open mine.

"I wanted to do a toast since he never got to have anyone speak about him at a funeral or anything." He clicks open his can and the spare. "To Trevor, my piece of shit little brother who I miss despite it all."

I raise my can and repeat his words shakily. "To Trevor."

So much for forgiving, let alone a toast.

Carter pours the extra beer out on Trevor's grave and I watch the murky beer stain the snow. He would appreciate that.

"You know," he takes a sip of his beer, "I thought about asking his friends here, for a memorial or something, but most of them were too chickenshit to stick around after he died."

"They were probably the ones who sold him the drugs," I reply quietly.

"What were they like?"

I think about people I had rarely given a passing thought since Trevor's death. "Some of them were alright. Nice, even."

"And the other ones?"

"Some of them were like Trevor," I explain. "But a lot of them were worse."

"I didn't think it could get worse," he admits.

"It was scarier knowing that it did."

Carter kicks fresh snow over the stain he's made and turns to leave, having made his amends or something I hoped was good enough for him to feel a bit better. I tell him I'll meet him at the car and watch him walk back through the graveyard. He hunches a little against the cold as light snow starts to fall. Now, from behind, I see the same broad frame as Trevor, the same walk.

Looking down at him now, at his grave, feels strange. Slowly, I lower myself until I'm kneeling in the snow, soaking the front of my jeans. I had imagined this moment before during late nights when I couldn't sleep. But now no words come to mind. I don't know what to say to him.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a bracelet. It's a simple, black cord with a heart charm hanging off of it. A gift he had given me before everything went bad. I had to dig it out of a drawer in my bedroom, a little worried it wasn't even going to be there in the end.

It takes a few minutes to clear the snow with freezing fingers. By the time I'm done I can barely bend them and shakily set the bracelet down on the frozen, dead grass I had uncovered. Then I put the snow back on top, hiding it from the rest of the winter.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened," I say, keeping my hand on the snow. Then, a little quieter, "I forgive you."

I walk back to the car slowly, wondering if I really meant it, if I really did forgive him for all the bad things that had gone on. In some ways I do, but I don't think I'm all the way there yet. There are some things that still keep me up at night, sad, hurting. It's hard to forgive everything when you can't talk it through with that person, or know that they were trying to change. Someday, though.

"You okay?"

Carter's leaning against the car, looking at me strangely. Something between concern and curiosity.

"Yeah," I reply and smile. It's genuine, and when Carter smiles back, so is his. Maybe we were both starting to forgive, after all.