Higher, Faster, Stronger

Dear Derek,

By the time you read this, I will be gone. I have entrusted it to a messenger, and I hope they haven't failed me. I told you once, a very long time ago to run. To cling to life desperately as if I had an advantage. I slaughtered our family but a poisonous thought entered my head. It will be one of my last thoughts and has continued to taint me now.

You could have done it too. Every area where I have succeeded, you have as well, to the point of surpassing. You were the one who was always overshadowed but I recognized your potential far before you did yourself. You were smarter, more clever, and had a foresight I wished I could posses. While I grew stronger, you did too. While instructors fluttered needlessly over me, you were left to fend for yourself and grew more capable everyday.

There couldn't be two of us. You'd kill me one day for all that I wished to accomplish. I knew you'd try to avenge their deaths. But that poisonous little thought wouldn't leave. I wanted to test you. And I failed. You're stronger than I ever was. But now, you can't get me.

All your rage is in vain. I win.

Your brother,

Alexandor

The irony of the situation is that at one time both brothers told me that they had failed. They thought they did so for different reasons. Derek failed to protect his family and Alex failed to surpass Derek. Both seemed too utterly improbable. And for a while I was stunned and could not move.

Mom had wisely thought to bar the door by standing in front of it. I was dizzy.

I looked at the letter again, the script delicate and slanted. Written with real ink, if you could believe it.

It was one of those frozen moments. He had gone out the door. Mom thought of blocking apparently but then decided it would be a major mistake. And, right now, I did want my mother in one piece. She went to pick me up and like a little child, she held me while I cried. I know I should have gone after him, but how could I? He was angry, I was distraught and I felt sick.

While I cried, I heard the motorcycle start up. It was cold out and he had very little money. Most likely he'd go back to the Thompson manor. But I really had no way of knowing.

Mom seemed shocked but didn't want to show it in front of me. Gradually she eased me off her lap and started to bustle around like a hen to get things done. First, she unplugged the phone. Anyone important could reach us on our cellular phones. Second, she turned off dinner, anticipating that neither of us would feel hungry. Third, she sat down and composed an email to Jared, our principle explaining that Derek was staying with us for a while and that given the circumstances; we didn't know when he'd be back in school.

I took out my phone and called Nate. He answered on the second ring.

"Sarah did you see the news?" That just brought out a wave of fresh tears from me. Eeesh, this is turning out to be a emotional year. I never cried this much any other time. I'm turning into such a marshmallow.

Nate is one of those people who is clearly uncomfortable with tears. But usually he can sense when something is wrong.

"Sarah what happened? Did something happen to bastard?"

I gave him the abridged version. He was shocked at what happened but not so much that Derek had hightailed it out of there. Nate and I were going to rendezvous at his house, spread out and search from there.

Mom clearly wasn't comfortable with letting me got out past 8 to go search for a possibly murderous teenage boy. Is any mother really? I packed a water bottle and slipped on my coat. Once I got to my car, I ran back inside to hug mom and grab a pair of gloves then raced back out. The wind was picking up but it felt good on my swollen, puffy eyes. Nate was waiting outside for me, and like my mom, I clung to him for a while.

I felt sad, but also clearly pissed off. I was not going to let him run away from what he had.

All I had to do is convince him to come back. Oh yeah, that'll be a piece of cake. I once described him as being able to sell ice to a polar bear. Or maybe that was because he was about as emotionally thawed as Antarctica. Either way, I'd drag him back.

Nate was going to go around the school area but I warned him it wouldn't be a good idea.

"Are you kidding?" I asked when I saw the raised eyebrows. "An ex con just killed himself, you won't get near it with all the cops and investigators around. I suggested he try around town. I was going to try the rest of the places he'd taken me.

The beach, the playground, the manor, and such. Hopefully I'd have some luck.

I started off heading toward the manor. The telltale black motorcycle in front of it would surely say whether he was inside or not. I stopped in front of the ominous place with great trepidation.

He wasn't there and the door was locked.

Strike one. Next was the playground, but that was clearly twenty to twenty five minutes away. It was also a long shot because I never expected him to go there.

The ride was unnerving. Even with my heat on, my hands felt stiff and cold. The radio was unbearable. I couldn't listen to anything with lyrics.

At a stoplight that seemed to last forever, my cell phone rang. Nate. He detailed that he couldn't find him and was going to check some spots that Derek tended to frequent. I sighed and hung up, promising any sort of call back if I found anything.

The playground was also negative any sort of life. I sighed again, getting dejected.

The beach was next for me. That was an additional fifteen minutes from the park, total twenty-five minutes from where Nate was. It was dark out, like the sky had been painted over with black tar.

As the time progressed my stomach was dropping further and further into a queasy and shifting hell. I reached the beach soon later. The wind was picking up even more. I rummaged a flashlight out the emergency box in the back of my car.

Success! To some part anyway. His motorcycle was here. Now all I had to do is find him, convince him to come home without running/driving off and or killing me.

Piece of cake?

Nah, I was screwed.

He'd come quietly the way a cop gives you a choice: kicking and screaming with the occasional squirt of mace or hanging limply their arms.

Having back up weapons might not help….I quickly phoned Nate to tell him where I was and where Derek was. He promised to get there as fast as he could.

Realistically, I can't take on Derek alone. I'd need help. I can talk him slightly off an emotional ledge but I knew in any other situation I'd need some sort of assistance. Nate is the only other person that Derek might listen to.

I made my way towards the boardwalk and ran down the ramps. Ugh, sand. Sand gets everywhere and it makes it impossible to run in. Usually my perspective of things changes according to what situation I'm in. On a date, I might like sand more than I would right now. I turned on the flashlight and shown it up and down the beach. In the distance to the left, a shadow of a person.

Oh please let it be Derek and not a serial killer. Then again, the former might have more rage pent up and might be twice as ornery. I took off at a run. Or rather, I tried. The wind was holding me back and sand is impossible to run in.

The beach is one of those places you only really visit in the summer time. Me, I was freezing, despite layers. Tears were welling back up, but those I could owe to wind chill. Irritated, I weighed my options. I ran towards the sea, because wet sand is easier to try to track someone down on. The singular light from the beach house wasn't helping to illuminate much. My flashlight wasn't doing much either.

He. SO. Owed me. BIG TIME. For this.

I stopped and dialed Nate. The figure was getting further away. Cursing his slowness picking up the phone, I told him quickly to get here soon and veer to the left. That's where he'd find me. Running is optimal. He yelled a closing sentiment and I heard his car's accelerator speed up. I flipped my phone shut and ran forward even more.

The figure was walking and I was running. I ran forward, yelling. "Derek! DEREK!"

The figure turned.

It was not him. Wow. That's embarrassing.

He however was straight up the embankment, standing on a mountain of sand like some sort of emperor.

I was practically wheezing. We were about five to six yards apart. I was slowly gaining breath back. I shined my flashlight on a diagonal. My stomach dropped for the second time tonight.

He looked as cold as the first day I had met him. The eyes had a familiar hardness, coupled with anger and grief? Was grief the right emotion? Was he really grieving? For his brother of all people.

Then it hit me. He was the last of the Thompson. Not just in name, in actuality now. Murder, suicide….it wasn't something you'd ordinarily hear about. Old families weren't so prominent but there were some everyone knew. The Thompsons, the Hogans, and more topped the list.

Unless he had a male child, he was the last of his line.

Heavy breathing made my voice sound hoarse. "Derek..."

"Why did you come here." It wasn't a question. It was an order. He was once again in control. Any first year psych student could dissect his stance. He was defensive with his arms crossed. His eyes were cold and merciless. He was trying to get back some control in life, the only thing that he never really had.

He had always been a constant really, his stoic and even nature. He hid it so easily, how much he loathed the lack of control in his life. No parents, few friends, but blessed with agility, and intelligence. He never really had choices, not like the rest of us. Run or be killed. Train or live in fear.

Now, even as it seemed like the one thing that kept him in line, fear and hatred of his brother had disappeared, he clearly thought he had nothing else to live for.

"I came because you disappeared again."

His next words weren't lost to the shrieking wind. They came out like a growl. "Don't follow me. Go back now."

"No. Stop running away." I was frowning now, all traces of humor gone from my voice for the night.

"Leave."

"I will not."

"I'm warning you."

"What do you want?" I ground out the words quickly. "He's GONE Derek! He can't hurt you again!"

"The damage is done and it was enough the first time." He spat out his phrases like acid.

"I don't believe you! The thing that caused you the most pain and suffering in the world removes itself neatly from your path and you fly into a rage? What's this about? Because you didn't get the chance to do it yourself? Wake up! I would have tried to stop you then too! He's dead, you're alive! That's all that matters!"

A quick buzz in my pocket meant Nate was getting closer.

"I don't get it! What are you missing?"

I heard my name and Derek's being shouted from down the beach. With any luck, he'd be here soon.

"Let me tell you a little story," he began angrily. "Once upon there were two little boys…"

"I've heard this story before," I interrupted. His eyes glanced down on me coolly.

"Be patient. The short answer to your question is that I'm missing out on life."

"Well that's kind of obvious…you've dedicated your life to a vendetta!" First conscious thoughts that rose in my head were, "He's cracked."

Nate appeared beside me, wheezing and irritated.

"Bastard! What's all this about?"

"I just told you. He took my life away from me."

"And I thought you were so much stronger than this." My eyes narrowed like a disappointed school-teacher's. "You haven't failed anyone but your own miserable self."