What He Left Behind

October 10th.

The day I’ve been dreading for months.

I don’t even bother trying to get out of bed because I have neither the energy nor the motivation to go to school. I know I will not be able to get through the day without breaking down, and the last thing I need is everyone seeing that.

Instead I curl up in a ball and pull the blankets tightly around my shoulders, the hollowness in my chest more painful than I can bear. You read these books and listen to these songs and watch these films that make you think you understand what it’s like to lose someone, but the truth is nothing can prepare you for it.

When I was made to see the guidance counsellor at my old school, she told me to try and express my feelings through art or through poetry but I couldn’t do it. There is no way to describe what it’s like to lose your best friend. Austin was everything to me and now he’s gone. I’ve lost the one person that I truly cared about. How can I even begin to explain what that feels like?
For the first time since Austin’s death, I play back the memories out of choice. It’s his birthday after all and even if everyone else is prepared to act like he never existed, I am most definitely not.
Besides, I think it’s important to go over the memories now and again; I’m scared I’ll forget otherwise.

I hear my phone buzz, but it doesn’t really register in my brain, therefore I don’t check it. It isn’t until a few minutes, and a few more buzzes, later that I finally reach out onto the night stand and pick up my phone. The brightness from the screen is temporarily blinding, but I eventually make sense of the blurred letters that spell out Charlie’s name. I have three missed calls and a text:

Morning doll. Get dressed, we have a birthday to celebrate x

The biggest smile lights up my face because for a second the longing is replaced with relief. Finally, there is someone who acknowledges that Austin existed. It doesn’t make the grief go away but it does make it easier to deal with, knowing I don’t have to deal with it on my own.

My phone buzzes again with another message: The front window is open by the way. Don’t make me come in there

I get out of bed and splash water on my face and pull my hair up into a messy bun. I probably look an absolute state but I go downstairs to let Charlie in because I don’t doubt that he will come in. As soon as I see Charlie, I practically fall into his arms and begin to cry.

I never cry in front of people. I reckon that the last person who saw me cry was probably Austin. Even at the funeral, I didn’t shred one tear. It was only when I was alone that I allowed myself to get upset over it. Right now, I’m not even entirely sure why I’m crying. Maybe it’s because it’s Austin’s birthday and I miss him or maybe it’s because Charlie’s here and he understands.

Charlie holds me for a while, his strong arms being the only thing preventing me from collapsing. Neither of us speaks, but that’s okay because I’d rather not talk when I feel like this. When I feel like this, there’s nothing worse than being hounded with questions or having to force a smile at people’s overbearing attempts to comfort me. Just the mere fact that Charlie’s here is all the comfort I need. His presence is calming.

After a few minutes of crying, I realise how pathetic I must sound and demand myself to stop. It’s difficult at first but I try to focus on purely Charlie – I breathe in his scent which is soothing and I stare at the tattoos on his arms which are intriguing and I listen to the beating of his heart which is steady and strangely comforting.

“I’m sorry,” I say as soon as I can string the words together. Charlie suddenly releases me from his arms, holding me at arm’s length.

“Shut up Noelle, don’t apologise for being upset,” he orders before roughly pulling me into another embrace.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” I ask after a while.

“This is more important,” he assures. I smile gratefully but I don’t take the gesture too personally though; I think anything’s more important than school in Charlie’s opinion.

“Do you wanna go and get ready so we can go out?”

I nod a little bit and then I nod more certainly, excited that Austin’s birthday will be celebrated the way he deserves it to be.

I go upstairs, throwing on some black leggings, a grey woollen jumper and my Converse. Then I brush my hair and my teeth, applying a small amount of make-up before shoving some essentials in a bag and going back downstairs. I debate going to check on my mother, but I decide against it. It’s hard to be around her at the best of times.

-

Twenty minutes later, Charlie and I are sat in a restaurant at the mall, hidden in a booth towards the back.

“You still need to answer my question from the other night,” Charlie states. I put down the mug of coffee I am drinking and cast my mind back.

“What question might that be?”

“How was your brother like me?” he reminds me. I sigh, letting out a nervous laugh. I knew that this was coming sooner or later, but I don’t react the way I thought I would. I was scared I would start crying or something, but instead I feel nothing except relief. I feel freer than I have in months because for once, I can speak openly about Austin without starting an argument.

“He was crazy,” I say simply.

“Crazy is the best way to be,” Charlie acknowledges, an arrogant smirk on his face.

“And stupid,” I add, which abruptly brings Charlie to silence, “And irritating as hell. He was funny though, and really kind once you got past all the bad things.”

“What were the bad things?” Charlie asks.

“He was very troubled, I guess. He got himself into a lot of shit that he didn’t know how to get himself out of. He hung out with the wrong people and he was an addict, and somehow I always ended up being the one to bail him out. I didn’t mind really, I mean, he’s my brother, I’d have done anything for him, but it wasn’t easy.”

For a second, I see a glimpse of guilt on Charlie’s face and suddenly I wonder whether I should have said that. I didn’t mean to make him feel bad, although maybe it’s something he needs to hear. It’s not easy to be around drug users anyway, let alone after what happened with Austin.

“He had a different biological father to me. I’ve never met him but he was cruel and abusive to my mum and my brother. When Austin was five, his father left, and our mum remarried. That’s when she had me. While Austin was still at school, he was the perfect child. He was always kind to everyone, to the point he was a pushover, and always did as he was told, but he never got the praise he deserved. The teachers loved him, but our parents never paid him any attention. He never heard from his biological father again, our mum suffered with depression, and my dad was too busy working to be the father figure Austin desperately needed. Everyone at school picked on him because he was such an easy target. He struggled to deal with all the feelings from his childhood, because no one outside of the family knew about the abuse, so no one ever got any help. When Austin was seventeen, he started to go off the rails.”

Charlie reaches across the table, lacing his fingers with mine and drawing circles on my hand with his thumb. The gesture is comforting and it sends a shiver down my spine. A part of me wonders whether it’s a good idea to stop talking about Austin, but now I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop. I’ve never been able to talk about him like this before. I feel like I need to get it all out just in case I don’t get another chance.

“He got involved with the wrong crowd. He started taking drugs and became addicted in a matter of weeks. When it came to finals, he was either high or having withdrawal symptoms throughout every exam. Needless to say, he failed pretty much all of them. That sucked because like, all his hard work amounted to nothing. Throughout his entire school life, he had put in 100%, but the one time it actually counted, he messed up. That really sucked. He was so disappointed in himself and all his teachers were disappointed in him too. That was when he turned into a completely different person; he became cold and bitter. He was always so kind and funny and caring but he became the opposite. Suddenly he was aggressive and nasty and he was just so…so angry at the world, not that I can blame him. He started making a lot of enemies. He lost everyone who cared about him, aside from me, but I was so young at the time and that wasn’t enough. Everything just spiralled downwards and when he was nineteen he overdosed and died.”

“Oh fuck. That’s really rough,” he says. He is quiet for a second, rubbing his lip with his thumb as he thinks it all over. “That sucks. I swear, the only thing worse than losing someone unexpectedly is losing someone gradually.”

“Exactly. It’s like I lost a bit more of him every day and I knew that ultimately he was going to go too far but I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“Feeling helpless is the worst.”

“Definitely. It’s just sad because the drugs made him act like someone he wasn’t. They turned him into an asshole and everyone forgot how wonderful he used to be – everyone except me of course. He was my best friend. We used to stay up all night talking and I felt kind of special I guess because I was the only person he ever opened up to. He would do almost anything for me.”

“How long ago was it he died?”

“It was the 25th of August so just over a year ago.”

“And you’ve coped all on your own,” he acknowledges.

“I wouldn’t exactly say I’ve coped.”

“I would,” he argues, “You’ve kept going. You’ve not given up. It sounds like you guys were really close.”

I nod.

“Fuck, I can’t even imagine how hard that would be. Do you even realise there are so few people who’d be able to get through that? But you have. Do you know how proud he’d be of you?”

“You think he’d be proud of me?”

“Of course. Look at you; you’re smart, I guess you’re kinda funny…looking,” he jokes and I roll my eyes, “Nah, you’re stunning. You don’t take shit from anybody and do you know how fucking difficult that is? So many people find it hard to do that. You’re so strong, my god, you’re strong.”
“Thank you Charlie,” I smile, his words meaning more to me than he could possibly understand. He may be the most annoying person on the planet but he always comes through. No one’s had my back the way he does since Austin.

“Don’t go all soppy on me now you dork,” Charlie orders, releasing my hand from his and smirking.
“I’m not,” I argue, a genuine laugh escaping my lips as I realise how lucky I am to have met possibly the most incredible person currently on the planet.

-

After spending another hour in the restaurant, we do some shopping and go to the arcades and I take lots of pictures. It’s early evening when Charlie drives me home and the thought of being on my own makes my stomach churn. Somehow Charlie’s been unable to take the smile off of my face all day, but I’m not sure it will be the same once he’s gone.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, noticing me hesitate to get out the van.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, grabbing my bag off of the back seat.

“Would you stop lying to me?”

“I’m fine, honestly. Thank you for today Charlie, I don’t think I would have-”

“Do you want to stay at mine?” he interjects. I stare at him blankly for a few seconds, once again wondering how peculiar it is that he appears to have the answer to all of my problems.

“Is that okay?”

“Sure, do you want to go and get some stuff or would you rather not?”

“I’m not sure I can face seeing my parents today,” I admit.

“Okay, I probably have stuff you can use.”

“Thank you so much Charlie. You’re actually the best.”

“Yeah, I know.”