We were inseparable.
From the moment that I could walk and talk, I always looked up to him, my older brother for guidance, protection and a little bit of fun. It was just the two of us, me and him and our parents that made up the household. Our house was on the edge of the bustling city, not too far away from the shops and the school we both went to.
I was born in 1998 and my brother Simon was born two years earlier. I was christened Ebony Belle. Simon's nickname was Night Owl as he was born at two in the morning. On the other hand, I was born at three in the afternoon during a family BBQ for a relative's birthday party. How convenient.
My parents had the perfect love story and the perfect plan; Buy a nice family home, raise a son and daughter, do well towards the surrounding community. They are lovely people. My father learnt to fix cars at an early age and back in the day, he used to fix cars for people who were quite well off. My mother doesn't go anywhere near construction tools! She is a florist, flowers were her passion as a young girl. Perhaps that's where I got my love of flowers from and Simon got his love for cars from, our father.
It was car show here, car show there and all I did during those shows was try to disguise my yawns. I didn't see cars in the same way as my brother did. You could find me in the local garden centre instead, looking at all the plants in bloom. Both of us may have had different obsessions but we were still close, arguing at times over where to visit during the weekend when the family was around. Despite our differences, we still got on very well together. As brother and sister, best friends. We both had our own friendship circles through school but at the end of the day, we had each other. And I thought that we would have each other for a long time.
There was a time in our lives that I needed him the most. Simon was a strong swimmer and one summertime during the day at a crowded beach, I stupidly grabbed my cousin’s surfboard and took to the sea to cool down a little as the heat from the sun was unbearable. The next thing I remember was feeling a shot of intense pain, somewhat stabbing on my right leg and the taste of salty sea water on my lips. I had been knocked off the surfboard by a huge wave. For that spilt second, I thought I was going to drown and die. Life without my loving family by my side dawned on me in a rush. Strong arms hauled me out of the water and onto the sandy shoreline. The arms belonged to my brother. He saved my life that day on the beach, at age eleven, I was reckless. And he helped me to see sense.
He saved me but I just wish I could have saved him.
Simon still looked normal, his cheeky grin written upon his loving face. That twinkle in his eye whenever cars were mentioned to him. I saw those things and that didn't give me a reason to suspect anything was wrong.
I was nearly sixteen when my whole life changed.
Simon had just turned eighteen and was having the time of his life. Plans were in place for him to do a summer season on the coast working for our uncle who was also in the car business. Six whole weeks of cars. What more could Simon want in his life?
I, on the other hand, managed to get a job working at my favourite garden centre. Not with the plants mind you but as a cashier. At least I still got to treasure that green apron that I wore with pride.
Prom came and went and that was a memorable evening. Simon escorted me in the car and into the large performance venue where it was being held. The best moment of the night was when he gave me a friendship bracelet and told me to keep hold of it and never let it go.
I remember wrapping my arms around him and placing a warm, sweet kiss on his fragile cheek.
It wasn't like Simon to not call me or my parents when he was coming home from a friend's house but it did happen. And, that's when things changed in a heartbeat.
While my parents were preparing a statement for the police to take to help with the task of looking for Simon, I heard whispers, fast whispers and running footsteps towards the living room where we all gathered at one in the morning, waiting furiously for news.
And, news came. News that I will never forget.
Down by the railway line in town, they had found the body of an eighteen year old boy and while looking through his processions, they came across an I.D. belonging to a young male.
The name on that I.D. was Simon Peter George, my brother.
There was a tense few seconds before I took in the news for real. When I heard the news, my heart stopped, my body shook and my mind went blank. Mother fell back onto the coffee table while Father cried long and deep tears. I had never seen my Father cry so hard in all my life.
But, the final blow was about to be delivered which was to make everything come to light.
In his jacket pocket, there was a note addressed to me and parents from Simon that the police believed he had written just moments before death.
The look on Mother's face when she read it summed up all of our feelings.
"Dear Dad, Mum and beautiful sister Belle,
There is no easy way to say this but I don't want to do it anymore. I thought that my life would be a happy one surrounded by great friends, vintage cars and ones who share my passion. However, that hasn't happened and I have let you all down, you don't need me, you don't deserve me. I will watch you from my new home, Belle, stay beautiful little sis. This isn't your fault, you've done nothing wrong my friend, I love you dearly. This is the last goodbye.
Yours Simon."
I cried, so hard on hearing my brother's final words. He never let any of us down so why would he assume that?
Sympathy cards started to trickle in through the letterbox days after the news broke. You should never plan a funeral for a child but that was the emotional task that my parents had to endure. I tried my best to stay on top of things but losing your best friend and only other sibling was proving to be a challenge.
I quit my job as my emotions were proving difficult to contain and customers had started to complain about me being slow and not remembering anything to do with queries and with special offers.
A fortnight after Simon left Earth, I walked into his bedroom which was still the same order that it was in and stroked the side of his pillow. In doing this, it made me feel close to him, like he was in the room with me and nothing bad had happened to him. Any moment, he would stroll into his room like normal with that cheeky grin and give me a big cuddle. But I would never feel his touch again.
The funeral was a solemn affair. I wanted nothing to do with anyone, but from deep down, I managed to stand up and compose a speech to honour Simon. Somewhere inside me was trying to make me cry and forget my words but I wasn't going to let that happen. On completion, I turned towards the coffin that bared the body of my older brother and threw the flower that was adorned on my jacket towards it. Where it landed surprised me, it was on the very top of the nameplate that read my brother's name. I bet he felt that from heaven.
I visit him often, around once every few weeks and sit next to his resting place for a while, telling him all of the latest news and musings from around the family. It makes me feel peaceful and reflective. Not everyone since Simon's death have been there for me, I lost friends that that I had since primary school. More parts of me that have somewhat fractured over the course of time.
Father just isn't the same bubbly person that he used to be when Simon was still around, all those car show visits have since ended and in some ways, I do miss them even though it wasn't my cup of tea. I still help mother with the flowers every now and again, but then, it still isn't really the same. Most of the time, I expected Simon to burst in the doorway holding a mug of tea but that was just a trick of the mind.
I was told that I was going to undergo counselling at my new college but in the end, I just simply dropped out of college altogether. The hallways that Simon used to walk down proved a distraction for me and my education. Those painful memories of what happened the day that the police found my brother’s body was simply too much for me to take.
So, what is happening one year on after Simon's death? I'm going to be making that fateful journey that he did, Simon's final walk. Down to the spot where he lost his life and then, to the cemetery where he now lies, close to the chapel. It will be me doing this alone, I feel ready to attempt this but my parents I know will take longer to attempt this.
If you are there looking over my shoulder Simon, don't worry, I'm going to be with you, together, very very soon.880Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzLiZ8Def1t
