Let Go

“Ricci? You in here?”

Running my fingers gently across the cords of my guitar strings, I glanced over to my bedroom door. The lights were off, sending me into a somber medium with the rainy Monday morning. The pitter-patter of droplets drummed across my window, softer than the sounds I had replaced them with. I was sitting on the floor, at the base of my canopy bed. Hair worn down in loose curls, a black, strapless dress hanging off my hips. My bare feet sprawled out in front of me, cold against the wood paneled floor.

“Come in.” I answered softly, no distinct emotion to my voice.

It was a command, that’s all. For the last few weeks, that’s what life has been to me. Every night I’d fly awake, sweating and gasping for precious air. My dreams, as horrid as they were, taunted me. Some nights, I was there, at X-Knights. I wanted him fall, from the highest point, and all I could do was stare. All I could do was observe his limp body, sprawled in the dirt facedown. The first few nights I had cried in my dreams, sobbed and pleaded. And now, I found myself standing still, breathing stopped, locked with this horrific image.

Other nights, it would be me facedown. I would fall, at a grueling pace. The ground beneath me ready to swallow me whole. With each passing second, I could only think. Think about how much I had yet to do in my life, and it was torture. I would cry out ‘God, kill me now!’, and startle awake as planned from the previous nights.

“Ready to go?”

Shaking my head from my thoughts, I glanced up at Brian. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jacket. Everything about him was dark, saddened. None of us wanted to do this, but it had to be done. None of us wanted to burry my brother, say our goodbyes to a friend we’ve known so long. Only hours ago, I was protesting inside to stay away, only to swallow my pride soon after. I had to be there, for my mother, for my friends, for Jeremy, for myself.

Quietly, I sighed to myself, picking up my feet, guitar still in hand. Brian and I didn’t speak as I slipped on my black pumps, as we retreated downstairs and to his car. We were both silent, treading the bottoms of our shoes on the wet concrete. It was just like Costa Rica, and neither of us wanted to be reminded of that.

The landscape before me scrolled by like a movie, as if I were watching it from the comfort of another world. Speckles of black netting from my birdcage veil broke the desert tones into scattered bits. There was no sound to be heard, even the hum of the radio wasn’t to be heard this morning. Our breath was so hushed, a falling pin could have seemed like a catastrophe. I didn’t understand it, any of it. How could a day like this provoke no emotion into us? Why did we set in neutral with our surroundings like sedated animals ready for the slaughter? I should be crying, I should feel the warmth of comfort in my heart to know he’s in better hands now. But, my core felt empty, cold, and the tears refused to flow.

The ride to Menifee was too long, each second dragging away like centuries. The rhythmic thumping of the metal rosary against my chest began to become apparent to me as the minutes ticked away across the clock. I didn’t believe in God personally, but I knew Jeremy did. The only reason I dusted off the velvet box and placed it around my neck was for him.

Maybe his God was what he had always envisioned. The golden gates, the fruits of all his vigorous labor opened to him. Maybe he was walking across gold-lined clouds, watching down on my attempts to carry on without me. I hoped he was, I hoped he had the best. I hoped heaven was everything he wanted, and nothing less. That’s why I wore the cross, to show that I still care.

I knew I was going to cry, though I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about how I was to view his corpse. I didn’t want to think about any of it. I wanted him beside me, holding my hand, keeping me strong. But now, I grasped greedily at nothing but air. The tears began to swell up in my eyes, the bile at the edge of my throat as I clasped my hands around my mouth and let out a deep gulp of precious air.

I cried for what seemed like hours before Brian pulled the car into a misty parking lot in the town of Menifee. Spaces were lined with cars, a crowd, increasing in stature by the minute, was gathering in the distance. As I softly placed the heel of my pumps onto the pavement, I brushed stray tears from my cheeks and retrieved my guitar from the back.

“You doing ok Ricci?”

Slowly, I glanced over to Brian, who ushered me inside along with the others who had showed up. I nodded timidly as we took small steps up the church entry. He knew I wasn’t, and I knew I wasn’t either. We weren’t fooling anyone with our false sense of hope. Because, when your friend, your brother, your son, is laying lifeless in front of you, even the strongest of men crack.

The warm building I had stepped foot into seemed to have more life than any of its occupants. Our blank faces, our timid hands. Some family and friends had found their seats amongst the sea of fabric-lined pews. It was if we were all flying auto-pilot, we weren’t in control, only along for the ride. I took a seat in the front row, next to my mother and father, the glimmering black of his casket lurking in the corner of my eye like an omen.

My father and I exchanged glances as I laid my head onto my mothers shoulder, like I did when I was younger. She wiped away the tears, just like everyone else had, only her own replaced them.

“Ricci…”

Slowly turning my body, I ran my fingers across the soft wood, lacking grip of any sorts. That smile, it was Twitch, my only Jeremy now. It had inched its way across his face, in a sort of sympathetic way. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but it was better than what I was seeing.

“Hey Twitch…” I sighed, laying my head down
“Jeremy.” He only said, tipping my chin up to his eyes, “That’s my name.”

Slowly nodding, I pulled the black netting of my birdcage veil further over my eyes and gestured for him to take the remaining seat beside me. His eyes were filled with confusion as one of his ticks sent his head into a thrash.

“That’s for family, your uncle or your-”
“It’s for you now,” I spoke under my breath, “Jeremy would want it that way.”

And so he shuffled, awkwardly and with a skittish demeanor, placing himself tightly beside myself. His warm hand slipped over my own, stroking the skin with the pad of this thumb. And, without hesitation, I laid my head upon his shoulder. Because, for once this day, I felt comfort. And nothing in the world could feel as right as his hand upon my own, and soon after, his lanky arms around my shoulders, pulling me to him.

As the lights dimmed, and the buzz about the room settled, I looked up towards him, seeing he was looking down into my eyes. My shallow heartbeats became as audible as drum rolls as his hand removed itself from my own, and pulled my chin towards him. Softly, our lips parted against one another’s. And, just as it had began, he disappeared from my skin.

The low strum of a guitar echoed across the room as if it were empty, echoing its slow melody from the walls. Images flashed past my eyes, but I was blind to them. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, but my soul was no longer numb. Somewhere, my brother was looking down. Smiling or laughing like he always did, something of the sort. I finally realized that, and the fact that he was watching over me, wherever my life should go. And as I thought of him, replaying all the times we had together, the lyrics of the playing song rolled through my mind.

“Said woman take it slow, It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said sugar make it slow, And we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience”

"Thank you big brother..." I whispered, glancing over to Twitch who too had his head bowed in solitude, "I understand."