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The Pretender
“Something More”
by the lurker


My feet feel like blocks of ice as I shuffle into the kitchen to make coffee. I will no doubt make a fire to take the chill out of the small cabin. It’s early fall, and I’m not used to the crispness of the air, nor the bite of the wind blowing through the tall pines. I shiver as I reach for the coffee grinder; this particular morning seems especially cold. And then I remember: Jacob is gone.

Grief overtakes me in one instant of vulnerability; one instant of heartfelt pain. There is nothing I can do but give myself over to it. My hands grip the icy tile of the kitchen counter in an attempt to steady my legs which suddenly sway as though made of rubber. Stifled sobs fill the room, and I can barely catch my breath. My brother is gone, and I will never again touch his face or hold his hand. In many ways, Jacob was taken from me long ago on a small stretch of highway between the Centre and this cabin - but he was still alive, and it was that small thread that I have been hanging onto for thirty years.

A crash of thunder, and a crack of lightening. Rain beating down on the windshield like a wild animal on its prey. The car began to slide, and the brakes were gone. And then there was only the rain, and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. From that moment forward, I understood that the Centre controlled my life, and it was never the same. But still, Jacob wasn’t dead. I could talk to him, and feel the warmth of his breath upon my face when I leaned in close. But now his unending rest is final, and try though I might, I cannot stop the tears, nor the feeling of emptiness deep within.

The anguish of loss is a painful thing.

The logic of my mind, and all my beliefs tell me that Jacob is in a better place. But I cannot be happy, for I am alone. There is nothing left for me to look forward to; most of my years are behind me. I cannot bear the idea of facing the world knowing my twin is no longer in it. A sharp realization insinuates itself into my mind: the last of my family is gone, and I am the sole heir to nothing but my memories.

My legs can no longer hold me, and I reach for a chair, pulling it under me before I fall to the floor. I knew he was dying. But that knowledge did nothing to soften the blow. I slam my eyes shut against the tears which once again spill down my cheeks, and a sob chokes my throat. Now is no different than any other moment of my life - I have no control. It is so frustrating to be unable to make a difference. The rumble of anger building up in my belly matches the rolling thunder outside. I slam my fists into the table with all my might. A stabbing pain radiates almost immediately in my right hand, but I don’t care.

With the same lack of mercy that the world gave to my brother, I pound the table. Blow after blow I strike the wood. An almost inhuman wail of sorrow escapes my mouth, but I am unable to stop it. Time after time I have been powerless to help those I have loved. My parents and sister, Jarod, Catherine, Angelo, Michelle, Jacob, and Miss Parker - I haven’t saved one of them from any fate that the Centre has seen fit to cast upon them. It is a cruel existence that makes a man love so deeply, and lose every object of his affection. I know my sobs are coming faster, and I gasp for breath in between them. It reminds me of being slammed by the surf of the ocean. Each wave rolls over you, but you can’t keep up with the momentum. Eventually, you’re dragged to the bottom, and whether or not you float to the top seems a matter simply determined by luck.

I feel her arms encircle me from behind, gripping my fists tightly, and holding them down. The weight of her body pressing into my back helps to calm me, but mostly it is the warmth of her soft breath in my ear.

“Shhh.....Syd, relax. Just stop.”

I had almost forgotten that Parker was in the cabin. I let her draw my hands toward me, wrapping her arms around me. After a few minutes, she pulls my upper body into her, and I just let my head fall back, closing my eyes. I feel her warm, wet lips kiss my forehead softly, and I finally exhale, exhausted from the siege of emotion. Parker stands behind me, holding me against herself for a long time, then I feel her lean once again into my ear.

“Come on, Syd, come sit on the couch with me.”

I feel her arms let go of me, and I open my eyes. Parker slides her hand down my arm and grips my hand, tugging at me like she once did as a little girl.

“Come on....”

She leads me into the living room and sits me on the couch. I notice her shiver from the chill in the cabin. My automatic sense of chivalry kicks in, but there is no feeling behind it.

“I’ll make a fire.”

I start to stand, but her hand on my shoulder restrains me.

“No, Syd...I’ll do it.”

I look up at her and see the concern in her dark grey eyes, and realize that I’m not alone. There is still someone in the world who cares about me. All I can do is nod, because I no longer trust my voice. As she builds a fire, I take the moment to try and pull my emotions together.
But the pain of loss is fresh, bubbling under the surface of my control. I dare not let it go for fear that I will never get it back. The sadness in Parker’s eyes is a reflection of my own, and the idea that my love for Jacob has caused the anguish I see on her face is almost more than I can bear.

A warm glow begins to fill the room, and yet I am still cold. An uncontrollable shiver hits me, and I try to grind my teeth in an effort to keep them from chattering. Parker picks up the throw blanket from the back of the couch, and wraps it around me. She sits next to me, concern turning her grey eyes almost black. She pulls me into her, and I make no attempt to resist. My head falls to her shoulder, and after a moment I feel the soft strokes of her hand on my hair.

Tears sting my eyes. I am ashamed to receive comfort for my grief, guilty that I am still here and my brother is not. Jacob was always the better one of the two of us; he didn’t deserve the hand life dealt him. It should have been me.

“What did you say?”

Realizing that the words slipped out of me, I can barely whisper as I repeat them.

“It should have been me.”

Parker’s arms pull tightly around me, “Sydney, your brother was ill, it was for the best.”

“I wasn’t referring to last night.”

She gently pushes me off her shoulder and looks in my eyes, “What are you talking about, Sydney?”

“Thirty years ago, the car accident....it should have been me.”

Before I can stop it, my emotions are out of the floodgates, and sob after sob takes possession of me. Parker pulls me to her once more, and holds me. I try to calm myself; I know how difficult emotional displays are for Parker, and I’ve already been too much of a burden. But it’s too hard. I can barely breathe in between the sobs which have gripped me in their torment. I feel Parker’s hand rubbing my back, and I force myself to focus on the soothing sensations.

All sense of time has left me; I only know that time has passed. Parker’s hand has moved up to my neck, and I’m grateful for the calming effect it’s having on my raw nerves. Gently, she guides my head to the pillow in her lap, and I swing my legs up on the couch. She strokes my hair and the timbre of her voice is like velvet.

“I know you haven’t slept. Just close your eyes, and relax. I’ll be with you.”

I hear the concern in her voice; concern, and something more. It is the something more that makes me realize I haven’t lost all of my family. There is still the beautiful young woman I think of as a daughter. My eyes begin to feel heavy, Parker’s gentle hand soothing away the last of my tension. I feel warm and safe for the first time in as long as I can remember. As my mind begins to drift off to sleep, the only conscious thought left to me is the realization that I love her. And I always have.....

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