Status: Updates Will Be At Random Times. Just A Heads Up.
I Hope You Like The Stars I Stole For You
One
I just stared at my brother though the computer screen of my laptop. I was glad that I was sitting down when he started talking to me, but that was about the only think I was glad for. Kam was supposed to be waiting for me at his apartment in Sheffield , England. When I arrived at three thirty in the morning, he wasn’t there. It was only when he texted me to connect to him on Skype was when I began to realize that something might be wrong.
Five years ago, much to my parent’s dismay, Kame joined the UK armed forces. I was terrified that I was going to lose my brother, but I was supportive. He was following my mother’s line of work in a more physical way of keeping the peace. I knew he was the type of person never to resort to violence if it wasn’t necessary. But the dangerous aspect was just one of the reasons I hated his career choice. The other was the amount of time we spent together. Which was to say, almost none at all.
The moment I saw his face my fears were confirmed. He was in uniform. With an emotionless expression on his face. In the back ground there were people dressed the same. Also a gigantic plane in the distance.
“You can’t be serious Kame.” His African name slipped perfectly from my lips. I’d always called him Kam. Like everyone else. It seemed like adding the extra ‘e’ made his name somber. But now, when we were talking about an issue as serious and somber as this, I refused to use the nickname for him I’ve used my entire life.
“Would I be anything but serious about this?” His face was unemotional. Show how much this decision affected his life. And mine. But that was selfish.
I just kept silent. There was nothing I could to stop him from going to Afghanistan. A part of him didn’t want to go, but this was his chance to help with something huge. To be a hero not just to me, but to someone else.
“... you’ll miss Christmas...” My voice was quiet. I wasn’t even sure he heard me.
“Samira you have no idea how much I hate this decision. But at the same time I know it’s my duty. You have to understand that.”
I didn’t answer him. But he knew that I understood him. I understood him better then anyone. And vice versa. I felt my eyes get sore and I knew I was going to cry.
“Couldn’t you have waited? To tell me in person maybe? Because I think I at least deserve that much, considering I though I was going to be living with you.” My voice started cracking near the end of the sentence. “I haven’t seen you in months...”
“I know Sam... I know...”
He was getting really upset. I knew because his voice was getting tighter. And he was trying harder to hide the fact that he was on the brink of tears. But I knew he wouldn’t cry. He never did.
My brother turned his head. Like someone was talking to him that I couldn’t hear. He looked back to me and started talking again.
“I’ve got to go. I love you Sam.”
I didn’t answer him. I just ended the call and turned off the computer. My eye sight began to blur as the tears came. When I left my parents house, I thought this would be my only time to spend with my brother before his training commenced again. But I guess he’d had enough training.
I began to wonder if my parents knew about this. Then again I was the only one in our family who tried very hard to keep in contact with Kam. Both my parents were constantly busy. It wasn’t like they didn’t love him. They just didn’t make an effort to talk to him as much as I did.
My phone beeped signaling that I had a missed call or message. I hadn’t bothered to listen to it since I got Kam’s text. I looked at the number and took a deep breath. My mother had obviously called while I was talking to my brother. I debated if I should listen to it.
“Samira? It’s your mother. Just checking in. Hope your flight wasn’t too boring. Now, your father is under the impression that there is a bigger time difference between home and Sheffield then there actually is...” My mother soothing voice rang though the speakers of my cell phone. This message was just one of three that my mother send since I left Port Elizabeth yesterday. My mom was a talker. Something that I hadn’t inherited from her. “So just call me back when you can sweetheart. I love you! Bye!”
I wasn’t going to call her back. Expensive long distance calls never seemed to bother my parents. They had friends all over the world that they, meaning my mother, needed to call on a daily basis. She was an ambassador from the United Kingdom to South Africa. While my father was a photographer. They were an odd couple, but functional nonetheless.
I set my phone down on the counter and looked around my brother’s apartment. There were no pictures up anywhere. The walls were an off white colour. All in all, every room lacked in personality and decoration. Kam wasn’t big on stuff like that. Then again he hadn’t been living here long. If he knew he was being sent to Afghanistan he most likely wouldn’t have bought it. But I guess that was good for me in a way.
I walked into one room. I took note that there was one single picture on the dresser. I recognized it. My mother’s rosy cheeks, heightened as she smiled as she laughed leaning on my dad. My father’s calm grin as he had his arms over my mother and brother shoulders. I was upside down in a handstand, my face red, as my brother held my feet. We were all smiling. All laughing. Kame especially. That was the last time I saw him. It was about a year ago, in the summer time, when he came to visit. I wasn’t even sure what was so funny. But this picture held memories of a time when we weren’t serious about anything. Just having fun as a family.
As I set my bags down, I could tell this was my brother’s room. Without changing into pajamas or brushing my teeth, I took off my glasses and climbed into the bed and surrounded myself with sheets and cried. Being emotional wasn’t my forte. But somehow it felt good to let everything out and cry about every little or big sad though that ever came to my mind since my brother’s been away.
“Yo! Keep it down!”
Five years ago, much to my parent’s dismay, Kame joined the UK armed forces. I was terrified that I was going to lose my brother, but I was supportive. He was following my mother’s line of work in a more physical way of keeping the peace. I knew he was the type of person never to resort to violence if it wasn’t necessary. But the dangerous aspect was just one of the reasons I hated his career choice. The other was the amount of time we spent together. Which was to say, almost none at all.
The moment I saw his face my fears were confirmed. He was in uniform. With an emotionless expression on his face. In the back ground there were people dressed the same. Also a gigantic plane in the distance.
“You can’t be serious Kame.” His African name slipped perfectly from my lips. I’d always called him Kam. Like everyone else. It seemed like adding the extra ‘e’ made his name somber. But now, when we were talking about an issue as serious and somber as this, I refused to use the nickname for him I’ve used my entire life.
“Would I be anything but serious about this?” His face was unemotional. Show how much this decision affected his life. And mine. But that was selfish.
I just kept silent. There was nothing I could to stop him from going to Afghanistan. A part of him didn’t want to go, but this was his chance to help with something huge. To be a hero not just to me, but to someone else.
“... you’ll miss Christmas...” My voice was quiet. I wasn’t even sure he heard me.
“Samira you have no idea how much I hate this decision. But at the same time I know it’s my duty. You have to understand that.”
I didn’t answer him. But he knew that I understood him. I understood him better then anyone. And vice versa. I felt my eyes get sore and I knew I was going to cry.
“Couldn’t you have waited? To tell me in person maybe? Because I think I at least deserve that much, considering I though I was going to be living with you.” My voice started cracking near the end of the sentence. “I haven’t seen you in months...”
“I know Sam... I know...”
He was getting really upset. I knew because his voice was getting tighter. And he was trying harder to hide the fact that he was on the brink of tears. But I knew he wouldn’t cry. He never did.
My brother turned his head. Like someone was talking to him that I couldn’t hear. He looked back to me and started talking again.
“I’ve got to go. I love you Sam.”
I didn’t answer him. I just ended the call and turned off the computer. My eye sight began to blur as the tears came. When I left my parents house, I thought this would be my only time to spend with my brother before his training commenced again. But I guess he’d had enough training.
I began to wonder if my parents knew about this. Then again I was the only one in our family who tried very hard to keep in contact with Kam. Both my parents were constantly busy. It wasn’t like they didn’t love him. They just didn’t make an effort to talk to him as much as I did.
My phone beeped signaling that I had a missed call or message. I hadn’t bothered to listen to it since I got Kam’s text. I looked at the number and took a deep breath. My mother had obviously called while I was talking to my brother. I debated if I should listen to it.
“Samira? It’s your mother. Just checking in. Hope your flight wasn’t too boring. Now, your father is under the impression that there is a bigger time difference between home and Sheffield then there actually is...” My mother soothing voice rang though the speakers of my cell phone. This message was just one of three that my mother send since I left Port Elizabeth yesterday. My mom was a talker. Something that I hadn’t inherited from her. “So just call me back when you can sweetheart. I love you! Bye!”
I wasn’t going to call her back. Expensive long distance calls never seemed to bother my parents. They had friends all over the world that they, meaning my mother, needed to call on a daily basis. She was an ambassador from the United Kingdom to South Africa. While my father was a photographer. They were an odd couple, but functional nonetheless.
I set my phone down on the counter and looked around my brother’s apartment. There were no pictures up anywhere. The walls were an off white colour. All in all, every room lacked in personality and decoration. Kam wasn’t big on stuff like that. Then again he hadn’t been living here long. If he knew he was being sent to Afghanistan he most likely wouldn’t have bought it. But I guess that was good for me in a way.
I walked into one room. I took note that there was one single picture on the dresser. I recognized it. My mother’s rosy cheeks, heightened as she smiled as she laughed leaning on my dad. My father’s calm grin as he had his arms over my mother and brother shoulders. I was upside down in a handstand, my face red, as my brother held my feet. We were all smiling. All laughing. Kame especially. That was the last time I saw him. It was about a year ago, in the summer time, when he came to visit. I wasn’t even sure what was so funny. But this picture held memories of a time when we weren’t serious about anything. Just having fun as a family.
As I set my bags down, I could tell this was my brother’s room. Without changing into pajamas or brushing my teeth, I took off my glasses and climbed into the bed and surrounded myself with sheets and cried. Being emotional wasn’t my forte. But somehow it felt good to let everything out and cry about every little or big sad though that ever came to my mind since my brother’s been away.
“Yo! Keep it down!”
