I rolled over in bed and looked into Ray's face.

Sound asleep.

I looked at his wrist watch. 5:45 a.m.

I sighed and unwrapped his arm from my waist and padded over to the door. I looked over my shoulder and noticed he had turned back over and faced the wall. Getting a better look at his room, I noticed a few things.

1) He's still untidy.
2) His guitar was thrown up against the closet door, collecting dust.
3) He has a knack of keeping useless things, like nudies, around the place.

I looked around some more and his corkboard caught my eye. Mainly flyers from some old bands I'd never heard of. I stepped closer to it and was taken back. Underneath old Morrisey flyers and some ticket stubs, were pictures of Mom and Dad. I traced Dad's jaw line with my finger, remembering the way his stubble would scratch my cheek when he kissed me. I looked into Mom's brown eyes. I had received the same ones. A few Polaroids over, a 10 year old Ray was holding me, a newborn. He had tears in his eyes. My grandma had said that the first time Ray held me, he broke down crying. Dad had asked what was wrong and Ray replied, "Nothing. I'm just so happy. I have someone to look after."

I looked down at my sleeping brother and sighed. He's sacrificed a lot for my well being and I've fucked a lot of it up by trying to be a hero and save him from this hell. I turned around, picking up my boots and silently sneaking out of his room. I walked past Frank's room, peering inside.

Asleep.

I walked up the stairs, past Mikey's room.

He was listening to his vinyl player with the head phones on. Inaudible to the world around him.

I walked up the stairs, into the kitchen. I twisted over to the fridge, pulling out the extra packets of oatmeal Cori and I had left. I opened the cupboards and pulled down the mixing bowl. I pulled open the drawers and found the whisk and set to work on the oatmeal. I bent under the sink, looking for some cleaner but to my dismay, found none.

"You really oughta know that we don't clean by now."

I nearly pissed myself. I turned around to see Gerard reading a Fangoria excerpt.

"Perhaps you should start." I blended the cinnamon packet into the moist oats.
"Perhaps.." he whispered, reaching around to dip his finger in the bowl. He slipped his finger in his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it, no doubt.
I cleared my throat. "Been up long?"
"Never slept."
"Why not? Couldn't trust me?" I teased.
He stared hard at me for a long time. "Exactly." He then sauntered in to living room, sitting down on the couch.

I swallowed hard to keep back the tears. Even as kids, Gerard was always rough on me. Didn't like having a kid trailing along. I heard a door open downstairs and some loud, exaggerated yawning. A few minutes later, Frank had made his way into the world. He looked at me with his hazel eyes and smiled brightly.

"OH MY GOD!" He picked me up and twirled me around. "You're back!"
"Only because Gerard practically begged me." I laughed, kissing his forehead.
"That's not true. I persuaded you." Gerard voiced.
"Yeah. Right." Frank laughed. He set me back down.

I pushed Frank's bowl of oats over to him and he devoured it like it was water from God. He looked at me eating my bowl with pure hunger in his eyes. I rolled my eyes and shoved a spoonful into his mouth. He thanked me by kicking his feet like an excited child, bouncing in his seat.


I went outside and sat on the roof, trying to collect my thoughts.

"Cori.." I asked the sun. "What do I do?"
The roof creaked and I looked over my shoulder at Ray.

"Sorry.. Didn't know this place was taken.." he muttered, making his way towards the ladder.
"No, stay." I pleaded, reaching my hand out. "Come sit with me."
"Yeah.. Sure." He walked over to me, timidly. He let his legs dangle over the side, mimicking mine. We sat in silence for a while, comfortable.

"Hey Ray?" I asked, coarsely.
"Hmm?"
"What was it like?" I looked at him. "Leaving, I mean."
He sighed. "It was like.. Like when Mom and Dad died. I was lost. I didn't know what was going on."
"Then why leave?"
"Gerard thought it was easiest. And in ways, it was. In others, it was stupid."
"Are you saying that you'd rather have stayed behind and died?" I looked down at my hands.
He reached over and tucked his fingers under my chin, pulling my face up to his.

"No." he whispered. "I'm saying that I'd rather have taken you with me a long time ago." He pressed his lips to my forehead. I felt something wet. He was crying.

I pulled him into me, letting him sob heavily.

"I'm so sorry!" he sobbed violently. His body shook against me.
"Shhh.." I cooed, stroking his hair back. "Raymond, it's okay."
"No, it's not! I promised Mom and Dad I would protect you and I left! I left!" He sobbed heavier. I pulled him in tighter.
"You're here now, Ray.. That's all that matters."
"It's not good enough, Taylor! It's not good enough.." He sobbed out the last of his tears, his voice becoming thick and coarse. "How do you know I won't leave you again?" he hiccuped.
"Shhh. You won't, Ray. You won't."


Little did I know I was bullshitting myself.