Trust

Jared, lay in bed, unmoving, hardly breathing. Hardly living. 'My brother is dead', were the thoughts that rang through his head. 'If I had just been there awhile earlier... I could've saved him.' He rolled over to look at the clock on his beside table, it read 5:30 p.m. 'Fuck' he mumbled to himself ' way to waste the day Jerry boy.' He pushed himself off the bed, and slipped on a pair of pants lying on the floor. With a grunt he stalked out of the room. The sunshine coming through the curtains in the frontroom blinded him, almost chasing him back to his bedroom. He squinted his eyes, still trying to adjust to brightness of day. "So," his grandmother began, standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of spanish rice, "He lives." Jared continued his way to the living room, then seated himself on the sofa in front of the T.V., snatched the remote, and flipped through the channels. He was looking at the T.V., yet, at the same time he wasn't. It seemed as through he was looking through the T.V., not really paying any attention to it. Outside, he could hear the children playing, dogs barking, and the ice cream man. 'Stupid kids. I hate dogs. Fuckin' ice cream idiot.' he thought to himself. He face held a scowl, and struck him as odd, he didn't even know why he was angry. His grandma walked out of the kitchen, and placed pots of spanish rice, beans, and carne asada on the table, along with a platefull of freshley made tortillas. "Jared. Come on and eat dinner." she stated. Jared stay seated on the couch, unmoving. "Now!" she snapped. With a low sigh, Jared moved to the table, and seated himself in a chair on the right side of the table, his grandma sat across from him. Both of them scooped rice, beans, carne asada, grabbed a tortilla, and placed them on their plates. They ate in silence, the only sound was knives and forks scraping on plates. From time to time, Jared would glance at the ampty chair beside him, where his brother used to sit. Hoping, just hoping, that his brother would walk in the room. But he knew it wouldn't happen, never again. "You really have got to get over it Jared," his grandma murmured to him "you know that he's in a better place. He wouldn't want you to be hurting." Jared slammed his fist to the table, his grandma jumping in fright. "Leave me be, woman!" he shouted at her. He pushed his chair out from the table, got up, and stalked out the front door.

The sun was setting, but he didn't seem to care. He also didn't care that he wasn't wearing a shirt. The warmth felt good on his bare skin. He heard a sound...a gunshot. A car veering around a corner was coming down the street, coming at him. He broke into a run, running away from the house. He ran, untill his lungs held no air. Still, the car raced after him. He pushed his legs faster, harder. He turned into an alley, the car turned after him. He jumped a fence, the bare skin of his chest catching onto one of the wires. Jared fell to the floor with a thud, knocking the breathe out of him. Slowly, the car passed. The sun had set. Slowly, he walked back home. It was silent, too silent. When he reached his house, he walked in through the back door. There were holes in the wall, where bullets had gone in through the window. He couldn't find his grandma. Then he saw it, red wine, spilled over the tile floor. He walked closer and touched it. It wasn't wine, it was blood. His grandma lay on the floor, blood gushing from her leg, from a bullet wound. He cursed loudly, then ran to the phone and dialed for 911.

Paramedics arrived, loaded his grandma into the ambulance, and took her to the hospital. Jared went with her. Hours of surgery trying remove the bullet from her leg, the surgeon came and spoke to him "Son", he began "she'll be fine. She lost alot of blood, but with rest she can make it. Go home and get some rest. We'll take care of her." Jared was angry, he stood up quickly, turned to the surgoen and said, "Right. You'll take care of her. Like you took care of my brother." And with that, he stalked out of the hospital.