《The Collections (Short Stories)》Simon's Farewell III

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I was sitting in the living room when I heard Chris and Mom fighting. He always spent the summer with us, but he wanted to go home. He was class president, and his senior year started in the morning. I did not blame him for wishing to leave, even if it was so late at night, but Mom wouldn't let him. She yelled at him, she fought with him. He was clearly upset, stressed, and frustrated.

"I'm leaving," he stated.

He did not get far before Mom took his keys from him. At that point, I walked into the kitchen to examine what was going on. I saw him take some anxiety meds. Before I knew what was happening, Chris walked up to me.

"Can I have a hug?" he asked.

I hesitated. I inched toward him and let him tower over me in a tight hug. I smelt the cologne he always wore. It smelt just like mahogany teakwood. I barely reached his abdomen at my height. I wasn't a hugger at the time, so I waited for it to be over with my arms dangling at my sides. He hugged my brothers next. We were all confused on why he was hugging us, Mom said he couldn't leave, didn't she?

"I'm going for a walk," he said to no one in particular. Then he was gone. The slam of the front door haunts me.

We waited, and waited, and waited. Hours went by and Chris still wasn't back. My dad had sent multiple texts, all receiving no response in return. Come home now, or I am calling the cops, was the last text he sent.

My brothers and I were told to go to bed, but I couldn't sleep. We all went into the same room, oblivious to what really happened. Oblivious to the pain Chris had been struggling with for so long. Lights and sirens appeared outside the window. They really called the cops, I thought to myself. I could spot flashlights in the woods. They were searching for him, but they only found his lifeless corpse. He wasn't far from my home. He hung from a tree deep into our woods. His own jeans holding him by the neck.

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I looked at his casket once more, and all I could feel was pain. A tightness in not only my chest, but my whole body that I had never felt before, and never felt since. I couldn't help but think about how I didn't hug him back. I couldn't help but think about all the signs we ignored till it was too late. I could hear his piano music playing softly. He tried to get his breathtaking piano music published, and the day after his death, it was. Dancing on Broken Ice. His music even made it to the radio, but he never got the chance to know that. He never got the chance to hear his angelic music move so many people. I had to say my last goodbye because other people wanted to say their goodbyes, too. I adjusted my bear before walking away, seeing his face for the very last time.

I wish Chris knew how sorry I was. How sorry I was that I didn't hug him back, and how that is the main reason it meant so much to me that he had Simon. I hugged Simon every second of every day. Held him close at all times. Those hugs could have worn off on Chris. It was important to me that my object had value for him to keep. It was important that he received my favorite stuffed animal to keep forever. To this day, it pains me to know my object has significantly less value than it should have. I only hope that he still meant something to him, and that he keeps my big brother company forever.

♡ You can preview his music on Amazon Music under Christopher Wagar♡

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