Fallen pt 1

I picked out the last few notes of my new song, on my old, beat-up guitar and looked up at my 19-year-old brother, J.C.1

He sat on his bed; sketching, with the light falling in from the window on his hair, making little gold streaks all through his natural blond hair. “What do you think?” I asked knowing that he didn’t think anything because he hadn’t been paying attention. I held my lime green guitar pick between my fingers and felt it get sticky with sweat. Yuck.2

“Jeremiah Christopher!” I wailed. Trying to get his attention. Since he hated it when I used both his names, I knew that doing so would get his immediate reaction. Normally, I didn’t have to plead and beg to get him to listen to one of my new songs. But in the last few months I had lost any understanding that I might have had for him. He had always paid attention to me before when I played a song for him. It was he who got me interested in playing the guitar while teaching me all I needed to know about the instrument and chords.3

“Huh?” He looked up from his sketch-pad and seemed to notice that I was sitting beside him, with my guitar in my lap, for the first time. I got up and stuffed my guitar pick in my pants pocket.4

“Never mind” I said as I stormed out the door, slamming it as hard as I possibly could. I smiled to myself at the satisfaction of slamming a door and slammed my own door. 5

I laid my old, beat-up guitar in its old, beat-up case, both handed down from J.C., and sat down at my window seat. From my window seat I had a great view of our lake. On most days the calmness of the lake would calm me, but not today. I had sat there for some time when I heard J.C.’s knock at my door; “tap-tap-tap.”6

He came in without waiting for my usual yell of “come in dork!” and sat down on my bed. He lay there, unaware that I was watching him, and looked at my ceiling full of little glow-in-the-dark sticker stars.7

“I’m sorry Mackenzie,” He said as he propped himself up to look at me. “I just have a lot on my mind and I really needed to get that sketch done for class tomorrow.”8

“What’s on your mind?” I asked. He looked at me solemnly, his green eyes full of worry, and sighed. I stared back. Sighing, he quickly looked away to avoid my own green-eyed gaze. “It’s nothing big…” he started, but I interrupted him again.9

“J.C., I want to know what’s going on.” I said. “You have been acting really different lately and I am worried.”10

I shifted my gaze to my window and heard J.C. sigh again.11

“Mom and dad caught me smoking weed.” he replied. “I’m probably going to move out.”12

“What? You can’t move out!” I yelled, knowing how hard and lonely it would be if he were to move out. In my 17 years I had gotten used to having an older brother around. Always having him there when I needed him was great. I then realized that one day J.C was going to move out, like it or not, and that day had finally come.13

“Look Mac, it’s either I move out willingly or be kicked out.” I’m 19 years old, that’s old enough to be on my own. I can manage. Besides, Sam offered me a room at his place.” He added quietly knowing all too well that I would not approve of him living with his friend Sam.14

“Sam!” Is he the one who gave you weed?” I asked a little too fiercely.15

“No! Mackenzie it’s not like I was forced with a gun to my head. I did it willingly, my choice.” He shook his head and sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”16

“No I don’t!” I screamed feeling my face flush with anger. “You aren’t moving in with Sam are you?”17

He was quiet for a minute. As he stared at the floor shrugging his shoulders, he said:18

“I was considering it. It’s a great offer, Mac and it’s an okay place. Besides, he only asked for $200 a month. That is a much better deal than I could get anywhere else. I can make it.”19

”What about your classes at the Art School?” I asked, sounding a lot like mom.20

“I can make it.” He repeated as he toyed with a little string on his Nirvana shirt and looked at me, his green eyes flashing. I searched his eyes that were so much like my own, so much like our mother’s, and sighed. I did not want to argue with him. To become like mom and dad was the last thing I wanted. But still, he was my brother, and even though he was 2 years older than I was, it was my duty to act like a second mother to him. To try to talk some sense in him when he seemed to have lost it.21

I didn’t want him to mess up his life. I had a sinking feeling that if he moved in with Sam, his 21-year-old, drug addict friend, then that was just what he would do.22

“If you move out you have to promise to come by and see me,” I said trying to force a smile out of him and failed.23

“Aw, it is just a couple of miles away. He said. You know you are welcome over there any time.”24

I cringed, thinking about how Sam and I did not get along. How he would always flirt with me when I was around him.25

“Yeah whatever.” I said. “You know Sam and I do not get along.’ I looked down at my neon orange toenails.26

“You hardly know him.” He said absently as he pulled himself off my bed and walked over to me. He reached over to pat my head but I dodged his hand. 27

“It will all work out.” He said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself that instead of me.28

I tried to smile as I punched him softly in the arm.29

“Just be careful, J.C. and don’t become a drug user like Sam.” I said softly.30

He smiled his one in a million smile as he said: “I wouldn’t do that.” Then he turned and walked out my door. How was I to know he lied?31