“Why don’t you tell me about your brother?” Mr. Cain said, situating himself in his leather recliner “We have barely spoken about him and I think it’s important that we do, I mean, you witnessed his death after all”.
He was right, it would help so much if I could just talk about it, tell someone all of the grim details.
“C’mon Samuel, I’m trying to help you get better here, you need to talk to me”
“I know” I eventually sighed, “I just don’t know how to start”
“Start at the beginning, when everything started” Mr. Cain said, looking satisfied with his pen and clipboard ready to document my trauma.
“Fine” I sighed, “it all started when mom died, Seth distanced himself from everyone while Dad found comfort in the bottom of a bottle. The funeral was planned by me and I was the one expected to keep it together for the family.”
“I see, where did your brother go to seclude himself?” Mr. Cain asked as he wrote down his notes on his clipboard.
“He…he went home.” I said, trying to keep the tears from coming out.
“Home?”
“His home, in Newport. He moved there to be closer to his wife and job, but he visited us until that day.”
“That’s quite the drive, I assume he stayed for the night when he visited?” Mr. Cain asked, once again writing down notes.
“What did that have to do with anything?” I thought, but still continued. “Yeah, he did. We kept his room the same even after he left, to make sure he knew he always had a place there.” I paused before continuing, trying to stay on track.
“We….I tried calling him to get him down here but he never picked up.”
“How was your dad at that time?” Mr. Cain asked, looking over his glasses at me. I wondered if he knew that these questions didn’t seem to pertain very much to what I was trying to say, but I answered.
“He was doing better when I tried to call, he slowed down on drinking and was really just focusing on work, he’s never been the kind of man to let something bother him, no matter how tragic.” I said, catching myself grinning slightly at the memories of my stubborn old father.
I looked up to see Mr. Cain staring at me, waiting for the story to continue. “Anyways, I tried to get ahold of Seth, but he wasn’t picking up, so after a few days of trying, I got into my car and drove to his house.”
“What kind of car was it?” Mr. Cain asked, writing on his clipboard slowly.
What? Why would he ask that, what does that matter? Was he toying with me? Making a joke out of the traumatic experiences he was forcing me to relive? Was he just like everyone else and thought this was just a game?!
I ignored my thoughts and answered. “A Honda Accord, I’ve had it since I could drive, bought it off of my uncle myself. But yeah I drove to his house and knocked on the door, he answered after the fifth time I knocked. He looked terrible, hadn’t shaved or cut his hair, which was very odd for him, he always was clean shaven and kept his hair short. He said it made him ‘look more professional’, whatever that meant.”
“How long had it been since he cut his hair?” Mr. Cain asked, still writing away.
“About 7 or 8 months, his hair grew fast so he looked almost homeless. He stunk too, but not like body odor, but something else, almost like mothballs and something rotten. Oh, his power was cut off too since he didn’t pay the bill. He let me in and allowed me to sit on his couch, I had to move some glass bottles out of the way in order to have enough space to sit.”
“What do you want?” I remembered Seth saying as he fell into his chair, obviously drunk.
“I need you to come home, Dad’s getting better and Sarah just arrived, that’s my daughter in case you forgot, it’s been a while so I would understand if-“
I was cut off by my brother throwing his whiskey bottle at the wall.
“SHUT UP” he screamed as he jumped out of his chair. He had never raised his voice before, he’s always been a quiet person. “I don’t want to hear about how happy Dad is or how happy you are, I don’t even care about your kid, you guys didn’t even try to reach out to me when I left, you guys DIDN’T CARE ABOUT ME”.
I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t mean to make him feel that way, I didn’t even know that he wanted us to reach out.
“Seth, I -“
“NO, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” he pulled out his .32 from his nightstand and pointed it at me. “Nobody has EVER cared about me, you’ve always been Dad’s golden boy and Mom didn’t even notice I existed, every time I visited she couldn’t look at me in the eye because of my WIFE?! HOW IS THAT FAIR?!”
“Seth, please, put down the gun. We love you and we need you home, where is Bonnie anyway?”
“She got what she deserved, she didn’t care either, SHE LIED AND CHEATED AND HATED. LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR!”
He was interrupted by a loud bang, he dropped his gun and fell backwards. I didn’t even see that he was aiming it at himself.
“I’m so sorry you had to see that” Mr. Cain said, no longer writing. He gave me tissues since he saw the tears rolling down my face.
“I am too” I said, wiping my face with the cheap tissue. The alarm went off, signaling the end of our session.
“Well Samuel, I think we’ve gotten pretty far and have made a lot of progress, I just have one last question for you.” Mr. Cain asked, setting down his Clipboard
“Yeah?”
“How bloody was it?”
Time stopped, I looked at my therapist in shock with what he just asked me. Surely I heard that wrong, maybe he meant something else.
“I’m… I’m sorry?” I asked, hoping I was right
“You heard me liar, I wanna know how bloody it was, how gruesome, how traumatic. I want to hear about your pain”
“Why would you ask me that? What is WRONG with you?!”
“There’s nothing wrong with me, just you…murderer”.