Dying Embers

Homeless person age 25, in a brokedown appartment. Has escaped his past for a few years till he goes to visit his baby sister, see what ensues.

 

When the heat goes out how do you keep your self warm at night. When the cold seeps through the broken window, and the faucet drips the unhealthy brown water. You wonder why you are stuck the life of a poor pauper when those around you live the life of luxury. You were never bright but you tried. They kept telling you if you try and try again you will succeed. Is this what succeeding is? Being stuck in an abandoned apartment with people who are just like you. They own (or in most cases stole) the sole clothes on their back. Go days without eating. And most things they acquire are stolen. How does it end up that you cast a longing look into the last of the heat; the dying heat that you have acquired by burning what you could. Some with you hallucinate and they think the rat trying to steal the last piece of stale bread is your best friend. The old man in the corner, is sick. He cannot afford the care he needs, so he will die in that corner and remain nameless to those whom he died around. At night as you lie on the dusty floor you hear his coughs that rack his thin frame. You know that if you listened and payed attention more when you were younger then maybe you would be able to help him. But you slacked off thought it would be cool to go out every night and party. You lost your self in the superficial world.

 

You didn't even notice your world around you crumbling. Your father had left your mother alone after six years, knowing neither of them were going anywhere. You didn't notice that your mother was in trouble because you weren't home when she was giving birth to your baby sister, you were to busy out drinking to hear her screams that emanated from the kitchen, but you heard the story from your neighbor of how she died on the kitchen floor due to complications with the birth. You arrived home to the flashing lights of the cop cars. You stumbled into the house to see her covered in a blanket with blood pooled around her. You knew it was your mother under that blanket. The officer tries to hold you back but you break from his grip. Another holds your baby sister in their arms. You just turned 18, you can't care for your newborn sister. She is put up for adoption, good for you because you wouldn't want her in the situation you are in now. Cold, alone and sick. You're body's defenses have been lowered to such a state where pneumonia could kill you.

 

You travel out today, decide that if you were to leave the apartment you'd go see her. Its been six years. As you travel the busy streets, you notice the stares. Not really caring that you should of cleaned up you continue on. Finally you reach the house she was put in and look out into the yard, there she is running with a blonde girl. You smile at her, she knows nothing of you or your past. The people of the home know you though, you've tried to avoid them. Your ashamed of your past, the death of your mother lays heavy on you. You stand at the fence and look at her, her strawberry blonde hair, bright blue eyes and she wears a pink dress. They can provide for her where as you cant. You've wasted your life away and it has showed. The girl in question, your sister comes over to you.

“Do I know you mister? You come around here a lot.” You don't smile, your muscles have forgotten how.

“Maybe, have they told you of your past?” You question the little girl. The girl looks downcast.

“They say I have a brother somewhere, my mother is dead.” You reach out to hold her hand. She looks up into your dull blue eyes.

“Your brother loves you very much I bet.” She pulls away.

“If he loved me, I wouldn't be stuck here.” It breaks your heart to hear those words. She blames you as you blamed your father.

“He loves you, just isn't in a place where he can take care of you. So you are much better off here.” You try to reassure her as much as you reassure your self. The visits where you watch her are short and generally not long, you never give away your identity. The director comes out and easily spots you. You stand to leave.

“Hey mister!” Your sister runs up to you and hands you a small delicate flower, it is a lily. That is what you named her. A tear cascades down your cheek as you begin to run. You hear the director call your name but you never stop running. You round the corner and in earshot you look back. The director is looking in your direction and leans down to Lily. The only thing you catch is.

“That is your brother.” You turn and run, you can't face her again knowing that she knows your identity. You take to the streets and look in search of paper and a pen. You end up stopping a lady on the street who gladly gives it to you if you left her alone. In the alleyway your unused scrawl writes a letter.

Dear Lily,

Your brother loves you very much. He as you now know is the mister who came around to watch. I could never of been able to provide for you. I am alone in this world. You have people around you, don't waste it. You are probably wondering what your mother was like. Your a spitting image of her. I forgot to stay close after our father left. It wasn't a messy break up, but a simple one. Your mother was full of life and wanted to get to know you very much. She would talk to you and rub her belly. Her soft lullaby’s would fill the house. She loved the both of us. I am sorry I was never around and had to see the pain in your eyes. I did love you but at 18 I was in no shape to take care of you. I thought I was cool to go out and drink once our father left. I would get so drunk mom would scream my head off. That's where I was the night she died. I was out drinking, I never knew she was going into labor. I was young and didn't understand why our parents split. So that is how I lashed out. I got caught up in the superficial world and it spit me out. Lily promise me that you'll never drink, stay away from those around you who bring temptation. I am sorry you had to find out who I was like you did. But you will never see me again. Know that to my dieing breath I will love you. I love you in my after life. Up until now, you were the thing that kept me going, but now as you know who I am I can't stay. Tell you a secret, I died because I was sick. No money for medicare so I won't be there with you physically. But I will always be watching from above. I love you lily very much.

Love your Brother.

You take the letter you have written and write her name on the front. You drop it off in the paper box knowing in the morning the director will get it. By the morning it will be to late. You hope she will be able to understand one day and forgive you for what you were about to do. Walking to a park you start the rest of the paper in a fire and with a rusty broken knife you held on you for protection, raise it high and drive it hard into your chest. As your vision clouds, you look to the fire and watch the dying embers burn out, just like your life is doing, burning out. You cast your gaze up at the stars as you try to ignore the pain and how hard it is to breathe or that your breathing slows. You turn your head and watch the embers go black as coal as your vision blacks out and you are no more. Not another inhabitant of that world. You are just gone.

They found your body the next day in the park and ten years later, your sister finally reads the letter and visits the place you took your life. She understands but she always wonders Why.