December 13, 2018

"hey"
all lowercase
My mother never texted me in school
And when she did, it was straight to the point

"call me"
all lowercase
something must be really wrong
she would've pulled me out if it was too serious, right?

my fingertips feel like rocks
as i force them to dial her number
the phone only rang once
when I heard her sniffle

At first, her words were inaudible
I was frantic trying to figure out the code
and just when i found the signal spot
Her words broke me in two

"Cory died, honey"
I stopped dead in my tracks
in front of the guidance counselors office
A single tear down my cheek

I hoped, no, I prayed it was a dream
and in that moment reality hit me
Like a truck racing at full speed
And I walk into her office

In a broken sentence,
I told the secretary it was urgent
And when she wouldn't give up
I yelled as if it was all I could do

I watched my mother's car pull into the school parking lot
And when I entered, it was silent
the kind of silence that deafens you
And i think of him

He wasn't my brother by blood
He was my brother because he treated me like family
More than my own family ever has
There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think of him

I like to think
that even when i am alone
he is always here
watching over me.