Roses

The day my brother joined the army was the first day in my life I cried. Even when I was born, I didn't cry. I didn't  make a sound. I just sat there, staring blankly up at all of the doctors and my parents and relatives crowded into the room. I had no idea what was going on. I didn't cry when my father left us. But when Will left, I knew exactly what kind of situation was occurring.
         “What am I going to do when the kids make fun of me at school?” I whimpered, eyes blurring as I gazed up into my big brother's eyes. He was only eighteen, and I was fourteen going on fifteen soon. I didn't want him to leave me. My life would fall into ruins.
         Will looked at me with sad yet loving eyes that said a million different things. “It's hard to let go,” he murmured, “but sometimes you have to.”
         “No, you don't!” I cried. “You don't have to! You chose to leave me!” Then I felt my mother, who was standing quietly behind me, rest her hand on my shoulder.
         “Sweetheart,” she whispered, voice restricted by unwelcome tears.
         I ignored her and violently jerked my shoulder so that her hand fell from it. “You're leaving me and mom! And there's a chance you won't come back, Will. There's a chance you'll . . .” I trailed off and shook my head slightly, incapable of finishing my sentence. That was when the tears came, like a rushing waterfall. They streamed down my cold cheeks, sending a convulsive shiver up my stiff spine.
         Will took my hands in both of his. “I won't,” he assured me. “I promise I'll be here for you, always. Maybe not physically, but I'll always be in your mind and in your heart, leading you, guiding you. I swear, Quinn. I love you,” he added instinctively. But I already knew that, and I didn't want to hear it. What I wanted to hear was that he wasn't leaving me and mom.
         I took a deep breath that quickly transformed into a shudder. Then I set my jaw and looked into Will's open eyes, my own aqua ones hard and cold. “If you love me,” I started, “then why are you abandoning me?” I ripped my hands away from his. “You're the worst brother in the world!” I screamed, my eyes brimming with tears. “No brother leaves his family behind to go get himself killed! I hate you! Never come back here! I hate you, Will! I wish . . . I wish you were never my brother!”
         My breath came out ragged and high-pitched, and as I looked into Will's eyes, I saw them filling with drops of water. He was crying, too, and suddenly I collapsed in his welcoming arms, both of us knowing I hadn't meant I word I had said. But I still didn't want him to go.
         “I know, I know,” Will breathed. “It's okay.”
         “Please, Will. Please don't leave. Please . . .” I buried my face in his shoulder and wept, letting every emotion loose. Inside, they all collided into one another, jumbling up and making a mess of me. Woefulness, abandonment, anger, confusion, nonacceptance, sorrow, and frustration all merged to create a black hole that sucked the energy out of me. I didn't have the fuel to keep yelling, and denying, and objecting. I just embraced Will and felt his arms around me, and his face nuzzled in my hair. Tears still slid silently down my face, and I felt colder than ever, having this empty feeling that was the effect of this new, empty space where Will used to be in my life. He was still involved in my life, he just wasn't going to be around anymore. I finally accepted this, although it took a profound effort and a massive amount of unwanted comprehension to do so. Will was almost gone. These were the last moments we would have together for a while. So why was I spending them mourning?
         I swiped at my eyes and cheeks with the back of my hand and took a step back, looking at Will and forcing a tearful, weak smile without teeth. “I love you,” I choked, and Will smiled the same sad smile that I hated to see.
         “I love you, too, Quinn. I'll see you at Christmas, you know,” he reminded me, raising his eyebrows in eagerness, as if he couldn't wait for that day to come. I nodded. And I didn't want to point out that something could happen to prevent him from coming to visit, because I didn't want to stamp out the good feelings that were encircling us. The last good feelings for a long, long time.{/justify}{/left}{/right}