Life as It Is

Today was very bitter in my opinion. I received his body at my doorstep this morning. I was the one to decide what to do with his body, I was his only family left. Mum and Dad died a long time ago in a fatal car crash, leaving John and I to my old Aunt Fiona. I was 5 at the time and John was 3. He didn't remember anything of them, and our birth country.

Before Mum and Dad's death, we lived in London. I can't seem to remember anything of it but rain, rain and rain. I used to think it was gloomy, but my perspective of it changed ever since we moved to Berlin to live with Aunt Fiona. Berlin is as gloomy as it can get. I never even visited London, where Mum and Dad's graves are located. Aunt Fiona never let me.

But I was the one to decide that I wanted to live in Berlin. I didn't want to go to London, for fear that someone, mainly my super rich Uncle Kenny, will claim me. Despite being 21, I still fear for my life being controlled by other people. That is the thing I hate most. But now, the stipend I receive as a fashion designer isn't enough to pay for my bills and food.

I know that Mum left me a large vineyard that had been passed down in her family for generations. It's located somewhere in London, I don't know where. But I'm sure if I look around and ask people, I'll be able to find it. That vineyard has been providing grapes for the finest liquor around, someone has got to know where it is.

I sighed and brushed a strand of black hair from my eyes and turned to the body covered in black cloth sitting on my couch. I still hadn't plucked up the courage to push the black cloth away and see him, and I don't plan to do so for a very long time. I turned to look at the plane tickets sitting on the table. I'd booked the tickets for the British Airways. I would be in London by Sunday.

I wasn't going to attend John's funeral. Too painful for me. Before going to Afghanistan, my little brother had expressed his wish to be buried next to the woman that practically raised him should he die, our Aunt Fiona. Maybe one day, I'll be able to come back to Berlin and visit his grave. Maybe, just maybe, he'll forgive me up there for abandoning him.

I picked up my tea and took a long sip of it. I plan to achieve high ends in Britain. I want to establish a safe and healthy environment for myself in my birth country. I want to find my life partner and I want to have a family again. I'd resigned from my job yesterday, and was faced with my boss' wrath. I was unfazed, being on the end of it for too many times to be scared.

Katarina Choslev, a Russian woman who lived to make my life miserable, was my boss for the duration of 4 years. Her attitude makes me shiver in disgust and I don't wish to live with it anymore, especially as I just lost my little brother. She doesn't understand grief and is heartless. I just want to go somewhere safe and make myself stable.

Looking at the digital clock on my dresser, I noticed how late it was. My health had been declining recently, and I refused to give myself the satisfaction of sleeping and eating when I though about how much pain he'd been in. Now it was 3:56 AM and I was still awake. I had to start packing my luggage and get myself gathered for tomorrow's flight.

Finally giving in to my desire to rest, I went to my room and laid my head on my pillow I went asleep almost 3 seconds later.