A Different Kind of Brave

I was so scared.

I stared at Jeremy Grey as he took the gun out of his third dresser door.

Derrick and Grace did too.

James watched the gun.

In one slow motion, Jeremy brought the gun up to his head.

Grace started screaming bloody murder and she fell to her knees on the floor.

She was screaming and crying and holding her arms against herself.

This wasn't one of those artistic, pretty moments that you'll find on the internet or in movies.

Grace's face was twisted and ugly.

Derrick fell to the ground.

He started hitting his head against the floor.

His shouts of 'No!' were only mixed in with Jeremy's name.

I heard Grace screaming.

I heard Derrick. "No! No! Jeremy! No!"

I didn't see Jeremy.

I saw my brother.

I saw a seven year old girl.

I saw an old man.

I saw thousands of people.

Different faces.

All of them looking resigned and firm as they held Jeremy Grey's gun to their temples.

Something wrapped itself around my throat.

I felt air leave my throat again as it had on the day that I hung myself.

I fell to the ground and started writhing.

Something clattered to the floor.

It was the gun.

James stood in front of Jeremy directly.

Jeremy could see him.

Jeremy couldn't see the rest of us.

We all stopped our commotion to watch.

James glared venemously at Jeremy, "You fucking coward!"

We stared in shock. All of us. Jeremy too.

"Okay," James continued angrily. "I'm not your mom, I'm not your dad and I'm not Maggie."

"My name is James Conroy. Not too long ago I brought a gun to my head and I pulled the trigger. Do you know who found me? My girlfriend. Janice."

"Yeah. And do you want to know where she is now? A mental hospitl. She's crazy. She's in the loony bin!"

"Do you know who put her there?" James shouted.

"You," Jeremy stated, slowly.

"I did!" James screamed. "I fucking ruined her life! I couldn't have ruined it better! She was going to be a doctor! She was going to deliver babies! Now, all she's ever going to be is a crazy."

"What are you telling me?" Jeremy frowned at James.

James walked over to Jeremy, picked up his gun and put it to Jeremy's head. James muttered lethally, "Just remember, when you pull this trigger... You don't get another chance. You better have said your good byes. You better know that this is what you want."

"Just know," James said, "If you pull this trigger you're a coward."

"I'm not a coward," Jeremy mumbled, holding the gun in his hand. He was crying now.

"Would your Maggie do this? Would your Mom? Your Dad?" James spat.

"I don't know."

"Are you afraid, Jeremy Grey?" James whispered.

Jeremy glared at James. "Afraid? Why wouldn't I be? Someone who's dead his pointing a gun at my head?"

James stepped back and smiled ruefully, "You don't want to die. Because if you wanted to die... you wouldn't be afraid."

Jeremy didn't say anything.

James went on. "You wouldn't be afraid because when people are afraid... They're afraid someone's going to hurt them. People who want to be dead want to be hurt. They're not afraid. They aren't afraid of anything."

"Goodbye Jeremy Grey," James said before he walked promptly across the room.

I guess, to Jeremy Grey, James just dissappeared.

Two days later, we were still in Jeremy Grey's room. But Jeremy Grey wasn't.

Jeremy Grey was seeing a therapist at his own request. After that, he was going to a movie with his patient friends.

Taped to his wall was an obituary.

The name on the top of the obituary was James Conroy.

We got a phone call.

Derrick picked up the phone.

And a voice that everyone could hear said, "Good job."