At the onset of the Chicago tournament, the four of us were grinding and playing Elite Crushers daily. Amaya was doing well with her psychiatric help. She never shared any details except for a simple “things are good.” Ever since she started seeing a psychologist, I noticed that she had a pep in her step that wasn’t there before. Her posture wasn’t as slumped, and I felt like the four of us went out more often for weekend dinners. Not that it was apparent before, but I noticed that she used to have an apprehension about leaving the house; she preferred to order takeout and eat at home when given the option. Ever since seeing the psychologist, she was more comfortable in her own skin.
Then something happened that completely blindsided me. I had a dream that shook me to my core. I woke up shaking with tears, and I remembered it vividly. Painfully vividly.
I was outside, walking in Darren’s suburb, and it was just Darren and me. The two of us were strolling in the middle of dusk, discussing a surprise he had to show me.
“Yeah, what is it?” I asked.
“It’s at my house. We’re coming up on it now. Let me show you,” Darren said as we cut through his front lawn in a diagonal line, and the door swung open.
“Gordie!” Amaya greeted.
“Gordeño!” Wyatt said, who was standing right next to her in the doorway. The two of them stepped aside and shepherded me inside the house.
My parents were there, Wyatt’s mom was there, Darren’s mom was there, Amaya’s parents were there, and all of my aunts and uncles. Hell, even J3rry was there. All of them had a plate of pizza in their hands and were dressed as if they were at a child’s birthday party. Smiles and laughs galore. They cheered as I walked in. Then I saw Lawrence emerge from the crowd, and he roped me in for a bear hug.
“Gordie! It’s so good to see you, man. It’s been too long. We have to get together more often.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling overwhelmed with joy at the sight of all these people. I spun around to face Darren, who was right behind me. “Darren? What’s going on here? What is this?”
“It’s a surprise party for you, buddy!” Darren said.
My bones vibrated with numbness. In the dream, I wanted to talk, but I was paralyzed.
“Gordie, there’s someone else here that you still have to say hello to,” Lawrence said, placing his hand on my shoulder and guiding me towards Darren’s game room.
Behind me, Darren, Amaya, and Wyatt followed. The door to the game room was ajar, and a golden light shone through the cracks. Lawrence fully pushed the door open, devouring me in golden light, and on the other side was just the game room. As it always was, but Michael was sitting on the couch, he sat up, and I stared at him with my jaw dangling.
“Gordie,” he said in his perfect voice.
“Mi-Mi-Mi––” even in the dream, I was sobbing and couldn’t bring myself to say his own name.
“It’s alright, no need to say anything. Come closer. I wanna meet your friends,” Michael said.
“Don’t worry about introducing us. We can do that ourselves,” Darren said as he patted me on the back, and then Wyatt threw his arm around my shoulders.
“I’m Darren.”
“I’m Amaya,”
“I’m Wyatt. Your brother is a helluva guy with a cool name.”
“I’m Michael,” he said, shaking all of their hands. “Thank you for looking out for Gordie. I’m so glad he has you guys.”
Wyatt pointed at him and shot off a finger gun, his arm still around my shoulder. “Michael, the only cool nickname I can think of for you would be Mikey. With Gordo here, I have a million.”
Michael chuckled. “A pleasure to finally meet you all.”
Darren, Wyatt, and Amaya waved goodbye.
Darren whispered to me, “We’ll be right outside if you need us.” They stepped back into the hallway, linking back up with Lawrence.
I stared at Michael with total disbelief, still unable to say a word because I would sob if I so much as said “hi.”
“Gordie, it was great to see you. Just know I love ya, pal. I miss ya. Don’t worry about me. You got a big tournament coming up. Good luck, buddy.” Michael pulled me in for a hug, which felt so real and warm. “I have to get going now, I’m sorry, but it’s that time.”
“N-N-No!” I blurted.
“I’m sorry, Gordie. You know I don’t want to, but I need to. It’s that time.”
“No!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
I saw one last glimpse of him smiling weakly. I’ll never forget the image from the dream. Michael had a halo around his body from the golden light shining from the window.
When the dream ended, I awoke to a puddle on my pillow, tears racing down my face. Freezing shivers thrust from head to toe and sweat-drenched every part of my body, which bled onto my blankets. I was in the middle of trying to scream, but the silence of the night subconsciously forced me into a muzzle. All I could do was wheeze, take a deep breath, and cry. It was a rinse and repeat until a more profound realization hit me that I had to go back to sleep.
It was two in the morning.
I had school the following day.
It was just a dream I’d probably forget about in the morning, right? Just a…dream? Damn.
Instead of driving home after school the next day, I poked around at my locker after the bell rang and took my precious time with each step to Ms. Delph’s classroom. When I got there, she was still talking with two other students who were in Advanced Placement Literature, exactly what I was trying to avoid. The two students turned to look at me with a side-eye.
“Well, looks like you have company. We’ve already taken up too much of your time. Later Ms. Delph,” the girl said, and the two of them walked past me as I sat at the desk by the door like I was waiting for a doctor’s visit.
“Hey, Gordie,” Ms. Delph said, her voice lifted up as if she was surprised to see me. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Ms. Delph, is it okay if we chat for a little bit?” I trudged over and plopped down at a desk that was closer to her. “I had a dream last night about M-Michael.”
“Yeah, what happened?”
I filled her in on all the details, part of me was about to cry, but I pushed through. I recall a quote my dad used: “pain is weakness leaving the body.” I wondered if that applied to emotional pain because I was mentally stable recounting the details.
“Gosh, I’m really sorry to hear that, Gordie. And I wish I could say something better than I’m really sorry to hear that. Sometimes it’s helpful just to get the words off your chest and off your mind,” Ms. Delph said.
My head bobbed up and down, and my tear ducts began to flow. I had to keep my voice low and weak. “I wanted to ask you s-something. I know you said you lost your sister in high school, and I was just w-wondering. Does it ever start to feel better? It’s usually much harder to talk about, but sometimes I slip, and my b-brain will go into this emotional overdrive, and I can’t think c-clearly. It’s almost like mental paralysis, and the only thing I can do is c-cry. It used to be much worse, it’s gotten better now, but it still happens.”
Ms. Delph nodded and scooted her chair closer to the edge of her desk. “Yeah, I remember that happening to me all the time. It’s much better nowadays. I do think it will get better for you as it did for me. It just takes a lot of time. I’m sure that’s not the answer you want to hear, but it’s the truth. It takes time.” Ms. Delph leaned on her desk with her arms crossed. “The only time I feel that now is if I go to the cemetery to visit, and even then, it’s not always that bad.”
I looked down and the ground and sniffled. My eyelids dampened. “Do you ever dream about your sister?”
“I used to much more, and when I was staying at my parents' house in my early 20s after I was done living on campus, the dreams significantly increased. They still happen occasionally, but fortunately, I haven’t woken up crying in a while. My dreams feel a little more normal, which sounds strange because dreams aren’t ever normal, but you know what I mean.” She shrugged. “It’s not like they happen all the time. If they do, I don’t even remember them.”
“I just have one last question.” My glances went up and down from Ms. Delph’s eyes to the ground. “D-does it ever get better? Or does it always feel like a v-void in your life?”
Ms. Delph gazed at the ceiling for a moment and took a tiny breath, letting the gravity of the question settle. “Better is a little bit of a subjective term. Obviously, it’s a burden you carry the rest of your life, especially at those major moments where there is no one else in the world you’d rather have by your side. But day-to-day living is easier. It feels like it takes a lot for you to cry, almost like you build an immunity to it. I remember hearing certain songs which would trigger me into a downward spiral of tears. Nothing like that really happens anymore, but there was a time when it did, and even now, it’s still hard to go back and listen to some of the songs. You know what I mean? Then again, my sister and I were huge music nerds.”
I nodded. “That’s a relief to hear because daily life is still pretty tough for me.”
“Of course it is, and I imagine it will be for a little while still. Just give yourself time, don’t shove those emotions away. Yes, it sucks to be sad, but there’s nothing wrong with it. Let the emotions come and let them breathe. It’s not human to be happy all the time. I read a great book a few years after my sister’s passing that really helped me a lot. I still have it if you would like to borrow it?”
“Sure.” I shrugged, still having difficulty meeting her gaze. “I’m not much of a reader, so it might take me a little bit, but I guarantee I’ll have it done by the end of the school year.”
“That’s okay. You can take your time with it. I’ve read it before, so even if you held onto it, I wouldn’t care. Just as long as it helped you, that would make me happy.” She gave a weak smile.
“That would be great. I’d really appreciate that.” I checked the clock on the wall and saw it was 3:15. I was usually one of the first to be out of school by 2:45. I shuddered at the thought of my parents asking me why I was late coming back home, but at least they cared now. I grabbed my backpack. “Well, thank you for letting me talk to you about this. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”
The following day in Ms. Delph’s class, after everyone cleared out, Ms. Delph handed me a book called “How to Survive the Loss of a Sibling.” Which was published around the time her sister passed away in 2000. She called me over at the end of the hour and didn’t say anything. Just plopped the book on the table, and I swiped it, stashing it in my back. In a weird way, it felt like a drug deal.
The tournament was two weeks away. On the weekdays, if I wasn’t going to school or work, I was in my room practicing Elite Crushers with Golden-Bow while taking breaks to read the book. Although I found myself having a hard time putting the book down because so much of it seemed like I could have written it. As far as what the author was experiencing, it was as if I was retelling my own experience, but the wisdom I found that the author bestowed was valuable. Like Ms. Delph said, let the sadness come, don’t combat it, but don’t entirely give in. Let the tears fall, allow that time and space. The book warned not to dwell, though, and understand that things take time to get better. Which even meant it could take years.
It was comforting to hear that I wasn’t alone in this experience. This author had a sibling who was also their best friend, but they lost them later in life (late 20s). The author was clearly in an emotionally crippling state, and I was too at times. But I wasn’t alone. Strangely, I felt my own bond form with the author. I knew him intimately. If I saw him on the street, I could flag him down and tell him about my experience. In a way, that alone made me feel better. It also made me feel closer to Ms. Delph. She was easily my favorite teacher after letting me borrow the book and offering to talk about an emotional subject.