A Dead Disappointment

by Birch, S. C.

  “Why don’t we ask him instead of just dictating for him?” Jack just managed to make out Lucy shout.

  “You think he is in any state to decide fuck all for himself?” shouted Owen this time.

  “This is his choice!” Daniel now, “Just think for a minute about what you would do in his damned place! Let’s get him up and ask him!”

  “We’re not letting him decide! Out of all of us I have more of a right to decide what happens than any other fucker!” wailed his sister.

  “I know that, we all do, but what you’re putting forwards is fucking mad!” Owen yelled.

  “She’s his fucking sister!” Cameron screamed, “She decides, and we follow!”

  “Because Emily’s judgment calls are always so blindingly fucking perfect!” Grace shrieked, which surprised Jack enough for him to sit up and find out what was going on.

  “Hellooooo?” Jack said, which was enough to silence them. “What we arguing about?”

  Emily ran to Jack, wrapped her arms around his, and hauled him up to his feet.

  “We’re trying to…figure out what we do next.” she said.

  “McCauley, you’re our Intelligence Officer, use that marvellous brain of yours and think up a plan for whatever’s next.” said Jack. He stumbled towards the group while Emily kept him steady.

  “Honestly, I think that you and Emily need to decide this one. I’m out.” Daniel said.

  “Why? What we deciding on?” Jack asked.

  “For God’s sake! You, you fucking idiot!” Owen yelled, “We’re trying to work out what to do with you!”

  “Huh.” Jack freed himself from Emily and collapsed into the house, “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to die today!” Grace said.

  Jack froze.

  He stared at Grace. Processing her words. People screamed around him. But Grace was silent. She was staring back at him.

  He felt a numbness in his core. It branched out to his arms and legs. He could only just feel the ground under him and the wall he was leaning into. And for the briefest of moments, Jack felt calm. He wasn’t exhausted, starving or in agony. Nor did he feel sick, afraid or lonely. Instead, Jack felt light. As though there was nothing keeping him tethered to the ground. His senses seemed dulled. Diluted. He could scarcely hear or feel anything. No thoughts ran through his head. He felt nothing other than calm. Jack had never felt so still or at peace before in his entire life.

  “Jack?” Grace asked. She was so quiet, but Jack heard her. He heard her.

  He screamed; his throat grinding under the strain.

  Jack slammed his clenched fist into the house. He felt his knuckles crunch. As he pulled his fist away, he heard silence, and saw a smear of his blood on the white walls.

  “I…” he started. He looked at the blood pooling around his knuckles. He wanted to say sorry, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it.

  “Okay, everyone get back inside and we can work it out there.” said Lucy. She grabbed Jack and dragged him into the living room.

  Once there Jack dropped to the ground. He stared at the floor, the world swimming around him. Mortimer nosed around Jack and collapsed onto his lap. Everyone else stood in the room and started shouting again. Jack rubbed and cuddled Mortimer, trying his hardest not to hear what they were saying.

  As Jack looked away from the floor, he spotted another bottle nearby, so he grabbed it and took a hard drink. But his jaw ached as he took a swig. The pain travelled up the side of his face. Jack rubbed the pain and took another drink. He used every ounce of himself to ignore the shouting.

  He could hear their pain in their voices. Jack went to take another long drink and noticed the bottle was shaking. He held his hand in front of him and watched it tremor.

  Jack pulled himself up the wall, freeing himself of Mortimer, and started making his way to the bathroom.

  “No!” Emily marched forwards and stood in his way, “You’re not going anywhere!”

  “Not even to the toilet?” Jack said, “That’s a bit cruel.”

  “Just go!” Owen shouted.

  Jack stumbled past everyone and left the room.

  Owen buried his face in his hands. He was so furious; he could feel a drumming through his skull. The best possible plan right now was to…actually, he didn’t know. He was at a complete loss. He had no goddamned idea what he could do. Other than watch his friend die…

  Owen could hear Jack singing over all the shouting. It was awful, out of tune and sounded more like a screech than a song. It forced Owen to breathe a light laugh.

  “Listen to me!” Cameron roared, “We’re going to bring him in here, tie him up, and watch him. No questions.”

  “But that’s just…fucking inhumane!” Lucy said.

  “Well it’s fucking necessary!” Emily barked, “And it’s what we’re doing. I am not losing my brother because you think his civil fucking rights are more important than his fucking life!”

  “We’re going to lose him anyway! Oh God.” Lucy said and clutched her scalp.

  Grace’s cries followed her as she ran from the room.

  “Grace?” Lucy shouted. She looked at Emily, “You need to calm down. Stop being so goddamned self-absorbed and think about Jack.” She turned to face the rest of them, “You’re all wasting time screaming at each other when you should be spending it with him.” Lucy left and searched for Grace.

  Owen dragged his hand down his face.

  Cameron wrapped his arms around Emily and pulled her in, and she buried her eyes in her hands.

  “I’ll go get something then.” said Daniel. He went into the kitchen and Owen could hear him ripping open cupboards and drawers – then silence.

  For the first time all day, Owen’s house was finally quiet. He still had a ringing in his ears, but now his thoughts plagued him. His entire morning had been spent shouting and listening, but scarcely thinking. And now all he could do was think – and he didn’t want to. His house was so fucking quiet. So quiet…

  “Shit!” said Owen. He turned to the door, but as he did, a stumbling body came into his vision. Owen ran to his window and looked outside. Jack was staggering towards the front gates.

  Owen ran through his hall and out the front door. “Jack!”

  Jack stumbled as he turned round to face Owen, “Will you all stop finding me?” he screeched.

  “Stop fucking running away!” said Emily, who, like Cameron and Daniel, had again caught Jack in the garden trying to escape, for the second time today.

  * * *

  A pounding pain shot through Jack’s head. His spine was crunching against the wall behind him, and Mortimer’s chain lead was wrapped around his wrist and secured to the radiator. And again, Jack was alone. Apart from Mortimer, nobody else was in the living room with him. Jack took another long drink of gin. He wanted to drink this day into oblivion, and so far, he was succeeding.

  Owen was on the stairs. Sitting on the bottom step. Like a lost child. His clasped hands hung between his knees. His thoughts were twisting in his head. Churning. Festering.

  A grunt accompanied the memory snarling at Owen now; tying Jack to a radiator like a rabid dog. But it wasn’t the action, or even the catalyst for the action that plagued Owen. It was how Jack had reacted. He hadn’t put up a fight or protested. He hadn’t said anything, tried to make it a joke or even get angry. Nothing. He just let them do it. Like that spark that made Jack Jack was gone. Snubbed out. Was that memory going to follow Owen? Would it be the last living memory of Jack? A shadow of himself. A husk. An empty shell where the best person he knew had once been.

  Would that image twist and rot inside Owen’s mind? Chasing him through his life, no matter how long or short?

  Owen tightened his face. Every muscle working. Every single part of him trying to forget the sight. But it stayed clear and vivid. Replaying again and again and again…

  Lucy stood by him on the stairs now. She leaned down and grabbed his shoulder.

  “Come on.�
�� she said, leading him up with her.

  As Owen stood, Lucy threaded her arm in his and shared the weight with him. The immeasurable weight. Owen felt her tremble and looked at her, she was crying again. The two climbed the stairs and walked to the Fort Room together in silence. Neither able to speak without losing control.

  Emily was in the dining room. She was on the floor. Barely taking a breath. Barely moving. Looking at the ground unblinking. Her thumb traced the wound on her hand under the bandages. Feeling the rough cotton. A lick of pain spread through her hand. She kept her thumb there, over the flicker, then pushed down. Feeling the pain grow. Building under her skin. She pressed harder. And harder. The wound opened. The pain felt beautiful. A distraction. Something she could control. Something she had power over.

  The door opened, and Cameron walked in. Emily didn’t look up. She was staring at the fibres of the carpet. She pushed down harder. The pain in her hand keeping her from her thoughts. The heat of it rushing and burning her nerves. Cameron saw the crimson bloom on her bandages and dropped down beside her, holding her hands in his.

  The physical pain was dying now, but another one surfaced. Emily felt the pressure build behind her eyes, her temples throbbed, and she could feel the tears building.

  “What am I supposed to do, Cam?” she looked at him, and the tears started forcing their way out of her. “What do I do without him?” Her voice a broken rasp. A whisper of the usual life and noise she carried with her.

  She tried to blink away her tears, “I can’t do this if he’s not here. I can’t.” She clenched her fists, feeling that sweet pain build again.

  Cameron pulled her fists in and kissed them. “I promise you, it won’t ever feel like you will be able to, but I promise you will be able to survive this. You will.”

  Emily shook her head, “He’s my twin. He’s been beside me since before I was even born. I can’t live without him.” Tears ran down her cheeks. She didn’t have the strength to keep them back any longer.

  “Emily?” Jack asked.

  Her face was so twisted in pain. She was pleading, begging Cameron silently for help. Searching his face for an answer.

  “Em? Can you come in here?”

  Cameron smiled for her. He brought up a hand and brushed away her tears. “Go.” he said.

  Emily closed her eyes tight. Her face screwing up. She swallowed hard, then left. She walked into the living room and stood in front of Jack.

  “I, eh, I don’t know how long I’m gonna be safe for…you know, before…can you…”

  Emily sat down beside Jack. He wrapped an arm around her and she cuddled into him.

  * * *

  It was dark out now; the moon was the only source of light in the living room, and only Emily and Jack were in there. They had been joking, laughing, and talking for a great many hours. Just the two of them.

  “I know!” said Emily through her giggles, “The perfect irony that her name was Mrs. Beard!”

  Jack roared in laughter. “Fucking hell. She really did have one hell of a tash!”

  “I had proper war flashbacks about her for years! She was my Vietnam!”

  “Mine too.” Jack laughed. “Remember when she tried to get us chucked out of school and we just made her life hell?”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’re, like, the reason she had that full mental breakdown and left the country.” said Emily.

  “God.” said Jack, “We are awful people.”

  “Yep.”

  Emily and Jack smiled at each other and started giggling again.

  “Seriously though, we’re going to hell.” said Jack.

  Emily’s laugh slowed down and thinned into nothing. She curled herself further into Jack.

  “Em, I think -” Jack sighed. “You need to move back now.” he said, but he held onto her tighter.

  “No I don’t.”

  Jack nodded, “Yes you do.” He was still attached to the radiator, but if he turned right now, he would kill her. Jack hated it. He wanted to say “Fuck it!” to the world and do whatever in the hell he wanted with the last moments of his life, but his life wasn’t his own anymore. And he wasn’t going to put Emily in danger.

  “Emily, please just move back. Even just a little.”

  “Just…give me a minute?”

  “Okay. I’ll give you two.” Jack said and smiled.

  And they sat like that, the two of them, without saying anything, without moving. Just holding their best friend in the entire world and saying goodbye in their own Brooker way.

  Upstairs in the Fort Room, everyone else was waiting; the lights were bright and highlighted the destruction Jack’s death was causing. Each swollen and puffy eye casting thick shadows. Each red blotch burning like a scar. Each tear leaving a painful reminder that none could avoid. And the room had no noise; stagnation choking the air. Suffocating them.

  “Fuck this.” Cameron said. He was sitting on the floor, both his hands wrapped around the back of his head. Cameron sniffed in and choked a breath out.

  Owen scraped his hand across his eyes and waited. Time dragged on. That room felt like a trap, and the waiting caused Owen’s fear and grief to sink further into him. The hours never seemed to end, and yet, time was passing too quickly. It was precious, Owen didn’t have enough of it.

  Jack called on them all; yelling through the silent house. The rest ran down, but Owen walked slow. This intangible fear building and building with each step. He didn’t know if he had the strength to do this. To face Jack. To kill him.

  He stood at the doorframe, looking in, and knew then that he didn’t. There were no reserves for him to dig into.

  Jack was still sitting by the radiator and Emily was sitting across from him.

  “So then, guys,” said Jack, “there’s no plan. We’ve got nothing. But I don’t really wanna be alone so please just stay with me?”

  “What?” Grace asked, her voice soft and sore.

  “It’s all I’ve got.” Jack said, “I just don’t want to be alone. That’s it.”

  “I think we can do that for you.” Owen said. That was a strength he could muster for Jack. That he could do.

  From his corner, Jack watched his friends travel around the room. Avoiding him. He wanted the room to be filled with noise and laughter, and even arguments. But it was so goddamned quiet. Jack played some music from his phone. But it wasn’t enough to swallow the silence. It wasn’t enough to keep him from being aware of how much his fears were swelling inside of him. To take his mind away from the pain screaming in his bones. So by way of pure distraction, Jack drank. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to say any goodbyes. He had so many things that he wanted to tell each of them. But he was so afraid. Because saying anything at all - it made it real. It cemented his fate. Jack concentrated on the people in that room. Using them to combat his fear. Using them to stop himself breaking down.

  Jack felt his life just ebbing away from him. Slipping from his grasp. He thought about the disaster that had been his life up till now. A torrent of chaos and destruction; and the destruction was visible. Nobody came within arm’s reach of Jack, he sat in a perpetual halo which no one dared breach. And although they avoided him, although they refused to look him in the eye, Jack could see the pain on their faces, and seeing their pain, truly seeing it, both broke his heart and validated his life.

  Jack really was so grateful for them. They made this so much easier than he ever thought it could be. He didn’t want to leave them. Any of them. Jack wanted to keep on breathing and witness some of the most beautiful and stunning things being alive could offer, and he wanted to experience all those things with them. But as midnight drew close, Jack was so afraid of losing his mind, that he just needed to say goodbye, before he did lose his mind.

  “Guys! Guys!” he shouted and got everyone’s attention. “Have you noticed, it’s nearly midnight! I’m as resilient as a motherfucking hippo!”

  “Shut up, Jack!” said Emily.

  “Hey! No
need for that!” said Jack.

  “Your sister has a point.” Cameron said, who, Jack noticed, was looking at his phone, with his free hand on his head.

  “Anyway…” said Jack. But he just couldn’t get the words out. They were trapped inside of him.

  “Jack?” asked Daniel.

  Jack sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy, but I need you to listen to me.” He grabbed the back of his neck, “Err, guys, I’m only…I’m only twenty-two. I don’t want my legacy to be a few stupid fucking videos on the internet and me chained to a fucking radiator, shitting myself and trying to eat the people I’ve loved the most in this world. And I -”

  “Jack, just stop talking!” Emily screamed.

  Day Twelve

  “Emily,” Jack said, “I know I’m the biggest hypocrite ever right now. But please just let me talk.”

  Jack looked around the room, and he masked the sob that caught him as a laugh.

  “Guys.” he said, smiling as best he could, “I’m really – really pretty fucking scared right now. And I don’t want to go. I don’t. I don’t want this to be the way I…die. God.” Jack looked up to the ceiling and tried to pull his fear back inside him, but he felt it escape and his eyes fill with tears. “I’m so fucking scared.” he felt his voice shake as he spoke, “But the fact you’re all here. With me.” Jack dropped his head and looked to his family. All six of them. “Thank you. Really, thank you. So much. And I know it’s a fucking cliché, but thank you for absolutely everything. You really have no idea just how fucking amazing you all are. You’ve -”

  “Will you please just shut up!” Emily said, “I can’t hear this.”

  “I know.” Jack said. “And I don’t want to be doing this to you, Em. Do me a favour? Look after yourself. Don’t end up like this. Be the stronger twin. We both know you are already. Just prove it to everyone else.”

  Emily cried out and ran from the room.

  Jack started crying too. His best friend was gone. That was going to be his last memory of her. Crying. Fleeing from him.