Her Brother

A Story by Kira Brock

Her Brother

Walking down the stairs, I immediately feel a ball of lead settle in my stomach. Something is wrong. The lights shouldn't be off when my baby sister Veronika is downstairs, and I don't hear her moving around. I take the rest of the stairs two at a time, almost slipping, and feel around the wall for the light switch that I could never find growing up. The TV isn't on either and I can't make out her form because of how dark it is.
“Come on, where the hell are you?” I mutter as my hand slides against the cool smooth wall.
I finally feel something blocky, with a switch, and flip it. My eyes adjust to the sudden brightness and I see my sister's sleeping form on the couch. I walk across the room, careful not to trip on the maze of cords and pillows all over the floor. The back of the couch is facing me but with my height, it's no problem to see her.
My eyes flicker to her hand, dropping off the side of the couch, and the empty bottle of my dad's painkillers.
“Oh my god, Vera? VERA?” I run to her side, kneel down and begin shaking her shoulders as tears fill my eyes.
“Wake up. WAKE UP DAMN IT. MOM, GET DOWN HERE”
I hear the basement door fly open as my mom's worried voice shoots down the stairs
“What? What is it?”
She makes it to the bottom of the stairs and sees my face streaked with tears and then her eyes fix onto my baby sister, as she screams and runs over. She notices the empty bottle of pills by my knees, and grabs my sisters shoulders and pulls her to her chest screaming
“MY BABY, MY BABY”
My dad, last to get into the room, flies down the stairs and just stands there in shock looking at our tear filled eyes and whispers, “Vera, my baby, what did you do?”

“Veronika was a special girl, she…” I drown out my pastors voice as I sit in the front row of the church. Vera hated going to church, and especially hated funerals. She loved bright colors, didn't want to wear a black dress. I stare blankly at the casket, as memories of running around the house with her dolls when we were little, and having her tiny legs struggle to keep up with me to make sure that I didn't rip their heads off. When was the last time I told her I loved her? A sob ripped through my throat, as the realization hit that I will never see her bright green eyes, or her see her crooked smile, always slipping to the right, again. My mom's arm comes around my shoulders and she pulls me closer to her.
How could I not see this coming? Her and I were so close, I should have noticed how unhappy she was. My mom tells me not to blame myself, but it's obvious when she looks at me she wonders why I didn't know. It's not her fault she blames me, when your 17 year old daughter out of the blue downs a bottle of pills, she has to blame someone. Even if that someone is her 18 year old son.
There wasn't a note found. I guess we didn't really look though, after dad came down, he called the police and we sat in the living room in shock, staring at the family pictures stacked and stacked upon the mantle. Her bright smile is always the focus, she was always the best of our family. She was so happy, I don't understand how she could have done it; I don't understand why she did this to us.
I’m drawn out of my memories by my mom pulling me up to my feet. Apparently I have to go up and say something. My chest tightens as I get closer to her in the open casket, and my legs work apart from my brain. I can't remember how to breathe, let alone walk.
I get up to the podium and just stare out into the sea of people. Our family sits huddled together, looking broken because the heart of us is missing. I look down and stare at my hands, unable to meet the gazes of my broken family, and friends.
“Vera was.. My baby sister, and I was supposed to protect her-” my voice cracks as I feel tears threatening to spill over.
“She brought light to everyone she was around, and everyone loved her. Nobody will miss her more than I will. She was my partner in crime” I smile sadly as the sudden memory of all the times I got onto the counter to get the cookies, and she would be waiting for me on the ground to give them to her so she can run away with them before our mom caught us growing up surfaced.
“She was my best friend. I know she is in a better place now, away from everything that was apparently hurting her” I turn to look at her, laying there in her favorite red dress, her body the color of porcelain.
“I love you, Vera, and I will miss you.”
The silence in the room is broken by the echo of mom's strangled sob, and I see my dad pull her into his arms and whisper into her ear. I trudge back to my seat and just wait for this all to be over so I can crawl into my bed and sleep the pain away. Who knows, maybe i'll drift into an endless sleep just like Vera.

It's been three days now. I looked again in the basement, but still couldn't find the note. I’ve also been having nightmares, except, they aren't about Vera doing it herself. It's about a dark figure that stands over her, holding a gun to her temple and telling her to take the entire bottle. I always wake up in a sweat, panting like I just ran a mile. What if.. it wasn't her? What if she was actually murdered? The thought fills my mind making it impossible for me to sleep. As I lay there thinking about it, it becomes more and more possible. She wasn't unhappy, at least that I knew about. She didn't want to die, at least that I knew about. And the girl I knew and grew up with would never leave us without saying goodbye.
I throw the covers back and feel the cool air against my body, drying my sweaty skin and cooling my burning flesh. I walk over to my laptop on the desk and begin to type up my thoughts. Who could have killed my sweet sister? I stare at the blank white word document, taunting me, whispering that I have to figure this out because it's my fault I couldn't save her. She is- was- dating our neighbor, could something have happened? I write down Alexander's name, and the girl at school who is in love with him, Ana. Maybe she could have done something to get Vera out of the picture so she could have Alexander all to herself..
I slam my laptop close and push myself away from the desk. What the hell am I thinking? My sister wasn't murdered. She’s dead. I need to accept that and stop holding onto some crazed notion that she was actually murdered by someone. I just need to begin to move on.
To start, I guess I'll go through some of her things. I know my parents wont do it, and I'm her big brother. She would want me to go through it before our parents did in case they found something they wouldn't want to see. I check the clock, 2:18am, well damn. My mom's sleeping pills will keep her knocked out, but I'll have to be quiet as to not wake up my dad.
         I quietly walk down the hallway, careful to avoid looking at all the pictures in the hallway of her in her 5th grade graduation, me and her on her first day of high school, she would have been a senior next year. It's May, she only has to wait 4 months and then she could have been in the best year of her life.
I open the door to her room, and step inside. Her things are everywhere. My knees give out and I drop to the floor with tears filling my eyes. Her clothes are thrown across her chair, and her bed unmade. Her smell is all around me and I just let the tears fall for a minute. I cry for the sister I'm never going to see again. I cry because I didn't save her.
           I try and manage to pull myself together. I need to be the one to do this. I start with her desk and her laptop. Turning it on and getting in it was no problem, she didn't have a password. She had nothing to hide.
What the heck? I didn't know she kept a diary, but apparently she did and kept it online. I skim through some entries talking about the guy she likes, then her actually dating Alexander, then some stuff I really could have gone my entire life without knowing what my sister did with him, Christ, she’s only 17. I scroll through her long list, apparently this goes all the way back to middle school, and find the one written four days ago. The day before she died. An invisible force squeezes around my throat as I read the 5 worlds. “Help me, he's after me” Oh god, I was right. She really wasn't suicidal, my baby sister was murdered. Now it's my job, as her brother, and still her protector find out who did it.

          It's been a week since I saw her last diary entry. Mom and dad still haven't gone back to work, making it hard for me to try and do some investigating with their constant presence. The one thing I have managed to do, however, is get Alexander over here tomorrow night. He's the first on the list and tomorrow night was the only night he was free. Vera's body isn't even cold yet and that a*****e has the audacity to move on already? With the girl who he knows, we all know, is in love with him. Surprisingly the second on my list. Coincidence?
         I invited him over in hopes that he will give me some answers. All I do is sit at home and stare at the 4 walls of my bedroom with the only thing keeping me going being the need to know what happened to little Vera. I drag myself out of bed each morning, just to go to my parents room and make sure they are still okay. Day after day I've been trying to coax mom out of bed. Dad already gave up, he just shuts himself away in his study. I tell mom that she needs to shower and eat something, but it's like she doesn't hear me. She lays there, eyes blank, staring at their pale blue walls. I made the mistake yesterday of telling her that this isn't what Vera would have wanted. She slowly turned her head and shifted those blank eyes onto me and hissed
“Get out”
I haven't gone back in there since. Why should I when I don't even have the willpower to make myself shower? Damn her death already has done a number on our family.

        Light shines through my partly closed blinds, waking me up. I roll over and check the time, 8:40am, damn, Alexander will be here in 20 minutes. It's Saturday and I told him to come early, I didn't want to be waiting around all day trapped in my thoughts of What If.
       17 minutes later as I step out of the first shower I've had in over a week, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks have caved in slightly, and my eyes look big and black, with even darker circles under them. Vera got the bright green eyes from our mom, I mostly take after our dad. Everything dark. My untamed black hair curls just below my ears but I honestly can't be bothered to style it. Alexander won't mind, him and Vera were dating for a year, he's seen me not at my best plenty of times.
         I hear a knock at the door and I take my time putting my dirty clothes back on. It's not like anyone has done laundry in the last week. I know Alexander won't leave, and I know my parents won't get the door.
        Several minutes later I open the door for him and see him dressed in perfect, clean clothes. With one blemish. A hickey on his neck. The thought of that girl with him makes me clench my hands into fists and my blood boil. Did he not care at all about my sister? I know how in love she was with him. She told me all the time. That piece of dirt didn't deserve her. But I have to play nice right now if I want the answers I need, I'll kick his a*s later.
        My parents can't know what we are doing so I push past him outside and shut the door behind us.
“Sit” I tell him and gesture to the cement steps leading to our porch with a nod of my head.
“You and my sister dated for a long time” I begin as I take a seat on the bench behind him.
“Dude, it's kind of weird I can't see you”
“Shut up” I bark.
He gets quiet.
“So, where were you on may 11th? The night my baby sister died.”
“Uh, I was with my.. friend Ana. Why?” he turns around and gives me a pointed look. I sit forward in my chair.
“And how do I know that's true? I wasn't home. My parents were doing god knows what and Vera was alone in the basement. You know her, so you know she'd be there. It would have been so easy for you to break int-”
“DO YOU HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING MAN?” he explodes at me “Vera killed herself. That's it. I would never hurt her. I loved her.”
“Loved her so much you're already with Ana, wearing that hickey with pride?”
At least he has the conscience to look ashamed.
“Whatever man. I don't have to take this. I miss her too, you know. You're not helping anything.” He stalks off across the yard to his own house. That's actually how they met, he's our neighbor.
       At least now he's given me something to go after. Ana and I dated our freshman year. She ended it after 2 months of being with me just to catch a glimpse of Alexander at his own house. Stalker if you ask me. But I guess good did come out of it: I have her number.
        I go back inside and upstairs to my room before making the call. Opening up to my laptop and the page I started a week before with the list of names, I make another list titled Clues. I'm not the brightest, Vera got the looks and the brains in our family. I'll need a way to remember everything that happens. Clue one: Alexander is hesitant to answer where he was on may 11th.
Time to find out if I can get clue Two

“Hello, Ana? Do you have a minute to talk? It's Vera's older brother”
“Oh my gosh I'm so sorry about your sister. Is there something I can do?”
“Actually yes, was Alexander with you on may 11th?”
Clue number two: dead silence for 10 seconds after the question
“Uh, why?”
“I'm just curious”
“No, he wasn't with me. Look I'm sorry about him and I getting together so soon aft-”
“I got what I needed, thanks.” and I click the phone off.
I stare at my laptop as this becomes a reality. I'm seriously accusing someone of murdering my baby sister. The only question is, could one of them really have done it?


       I start my Monday off slightly better than last week. Now I at least have some hope, and that small hope makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning and try to take care of myself. Dad is going back to work, he was going stir crazy in this house. But mom is still just laying there. She eats a little better though, and I know she will feel better when I can prove it wasn't Vera. Her baby girl will still be gone, but she wouldn't have taken her own life, which means something to mom.
       Now is when I go and find my own clues. No more calling up people hoping they tell me the truth. Alexander is in school because it's 11:30am and he doesn't get home until 3pm. Mom is practically in a coma with the intensity of her sleeping pill so I really have no chance of waking her up. I walk down into the kitchen, thinking I should eat something. The thought alone makes me nauseous. Heartbreak will do that. It makes it impossible to eat, I'll be starving but the mere thought of food is disgusting so I go on being hungry. The hunger goes away as soon as it is replaced with sadness though, so I never stay hungry for long. I guess that's why my ribs show like they do, and my hip bones protrude like daggers from my side.
         It doesn't matter. I'll find her killer and everything will all be better. I'm her big brother, this is my responsibility.
        I walk out of the kitchen empty handed and to the front door. Opening the door, I'm blasted with a cool wind. It's mid may, why the heck is it 46 degrees? I grab a jacket off the rack by the door before stepping out into the cold air.
“Vera would have thrown a fit, she loves summer” I mutter to myself as I speed walk across my lawn to their side window with my hands dug deep into my pockets for warmth. Alexander always left this unlocked for Vera to sneak into at night. She thought nobody knew, but I'm her big brother. Did she really think she could keep that from me?
       I slide the window to the right as I've seen her do 100 times. It's still unlocked, the idiot must keep it like that for Ana. Pig, I think, and shake my head as I step through the window and into Alexander's room. Pretty damn convenient if you ask me. Easy to get out of one house and into the other considering we have a window to our kitchen which is right next to the stairs for the basement. I make a mental note to write that down when I get back home. Now it's time for some actual work.
      First thing first, his computer. Who knows what crap I'll find on there. Thankfully it isn't locked. I bring up the Google search engine and just as I'm about to type in Gmail to see if he emailed someone about that night or anything having to do with my sister, I hear the front door bang open. Panic grips my heart as I dive under his bed. I'm looking around under his bed as best I can in sudden change of lighting, praying I won't find an old piece of pizza or that something won't crawl over my foot.
     I heard Alexander's voice getting close to his room, it sounds like he's on the phone with someone because I only hear one set of footsteps. What the heck is he doing at home? Oh crap, he is coming into his room. I watch his dirty black converse as he crosses the room and sits on his bed, directly above me.
       “I don't know. Her older brother questioned me over the weekend. I don't think he knows anything. I told him I wasn't at his house with her, and he bought it.”
Oh my gosh that lying idiot. He killed my sister. And whoever he is on the phone with knows about it.
“I'm not going to tell him anything, relax. I wouldn't do that to myself, or you. Look, I gotta take a shower then get back to school. I lost time working out this morning and never went. I'll talk to you later.”
       I feel the pressure lift off of the bed and watch as he moves over to his desk and set something down. He takes his shoes off and walks out of the room and down the hallway, I'm assuming to the bathroom for a shower. I wait until I hear the water running before I quietly slide myself out from under his bed. Making my way over to his desk, I turn off his computer and thank god he didn't notice it was on. I won't need it anymore because now I have his cell phone. While picking it up I'm again hit with a strike of uncertainty. What if I'm making all this into more than what it is? What if this is me just not being able to move on? No. That phone call obviously indicated foul play, and it's my job as her brother to figure this out.
        I scroll through his phone history to find the last number and am not at all shocked to find Ana's name. She is my second suspect after all. So was he actually not at her house that night and he lied to me, or was she covering his a*s?
        I hear the water turn off and quickly shut his phone and put it back where I found it. Making my way back out of his window, I only have one thought on my mind: second stop, Ana's house.

      Getting into her house is turning out to be a little more difficult. Okay, a lot more. At least I found her address in Alexander's phone before shutting it. Also a good thing I could find my mom's keys before she woke up.
      There are no open windows. No open door obviously. Nobody home, it's 12:15. I go around back again, checking if I missed anything. Oh gosh, well at least now I know I can get in. Their small, barely able to fit a human body through, basement window is cracked open. Well damn, this should be fun.
      I sit on the grass and open the window with my legs facing front. I slide on my back through the window, careful not to let it swing back and hit me in the face.
      With my feet safely planted on the ground, and my face un-hit, I cross the basement and make my way upstairs. Having a floor plan of this house would make things a lot faster, and I don't know what time her parents will be home so I have to be careful.
      Starting on this floor and making my way up is as good a plan as any I guess. I start going from room to room, looking at all the smiling facing in their various family pictures. Stopping at a picture of Ana with her arm around her little sister. She is still alive, Ana doesn't know how lucky she is. What I wouldn't give for another fight with Vera about whose turn it is to do the dishes, or who ate her special yogurt.
       Making my way upstairs, still trying to find her room, my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. My mom is awake apparently, and wondering where I am.
“I needed air. I'll be home later”
“Pick me up some more sleeping pills. I'm out” and I hear the dial tone. I sigh and wonder if since she lost one kid, she's going to push the other one away.
       I can't think about that now, I have to find her room before someone gets home. At the top of the stairs, I turn left towards the open door with pink walls inside. Entering the room, I'm positive it's hers. There are pictures of her and her friends plastered all over the walls and the floor is just a layer of clothes. No carpet noticeable. My gosh, how do girls live like this? Stepping on all the clothes, I attempt to make my way to her desk, careful not to trip and break my neck before finding out if she’s the killer.
        On her desk there is a letter addressed to Ana. Maybe this is something, I think as I pick it up and read it. “I did this for you. Now we can be together -A” A? Ana? Why would someone put her name at the end of a lett- Alexander! Alexander wrote that letter and he killed my sister for her! I'm going to get him back for her. My baby sister didn't deserve this. Pocketing the letter, I'll need it for later reference for evidence, I run out of her room, down the stairs, and out the door.
       Once I'm in my car I speed home, determined to write all my evidence down to get to the police. They can arrest him once I get my own revenge. All those years of Krav Maga are going to come in handy now.
         Pulling into my driveway, tires squealing, I realize I didn't pick up my mom's pills. Whatever. Once she gets this closure, she won't need them. She will feel better.
         I race through the door and pound up the stairs, rushing to get everything written down so I can call the police as soon as possible.
        Sitting down at my laptop I decided to write out exactly how it happened to save the police a lot of time.
         “Alexander Serogia, our 18 year old neighbor, came into my house through the sliding door while I wasn't home and my parents didn't know. He went downstairs and forced my sister to take the pills to make it look like she killed herself”
I don't really know how he forced her, so I'll leave that for the police to find out. It's their job anyway, not mine. I continue with
“He did it because he wanted to be with Ana Lovett, a girl who has been in love with him
for years. He then snuck out of our house the same way he came, and lied to me about it when I asked. That is how, and why, Alexander Serogia killed my baby sister.”
          Feeling accomplished, and also struck by a sudden wave of sadness, I take my cell phone and start to go downstairs to the scene of the crime. Nobody has been down here but me, and I just came down to look for a note. I dial 911 and when the operator speaks in her tired scripts “911, what is your emergency?” I tell her
“I'd like to report a past murder. I know how and why they did it, and would appreciate it if you send someone to my house right now” and hang up before they tell me I need to go down to the station. I really don't have the energy.
        When I was looking for the note, I looked on every shelf. Under every pillow. On every table in the entire house. I'm so relieved to know that she didn't do that to herself I could cry. I stare at the black fabric of the couch, with her pillows and blankets piled up there. Nobody has touched it since we found her.
         It's been so long since I've felt close to my sister, so I decide to lay down on her couch, in her spot. Fresh tears fall as I lay my head on the pillow and pull the blanket up to my chin, curling in a ball, letting the tears leave a trail as they begin to soak the pillow.
         Pulling the blanket closer to my chin, I hear a rustling noise from somewhere in this thick fluffy blanket. I dig around, expecting to find a bag of chips or a candy wrapper, but my hand grabs what feels to be an envelope. Fear seizes my chest as I read “My Dearest Brother” on the outside. My hands shake as I start to realize what this actually is, and what this means for my sister's death.
“I'm sorry to have to go like this. But he had too strong of a hold on me. My depression just wouldn't let go and I couldn't do it anymore. He, my depression, consumed me and I never asked for help. Honestly I'm surprised at you for not being able to figure this out, you are my older brother after all.”
          A sob rips through my throat as guilt flows through my body like ice water in my veins.
“Alexander came over tonight. He came through the sliding door by the stairs”
Pieces start falling into place
“He told me it was over. He already had a note written to Ana saying that he could be with her now because he broke up with me.”
The letter I found..
“I didn't want to raise my baby on my own. I was 2 months pregnant, and Alexander didn't know. I didn't want to ruin his life, or our family's life.
I'm sorry I did this to you my dearest brother, I love you”
I feel my heart shatter and my breathing stop. I was her big brother, her protector, and I failed her.