0 comments

Fiction

Finding an old and slightly burned photograph in the box of memories from his childhood wasn't something Ethan was expecting, especially when he realized he was in that photograph along with his older sister and his parents. 


But there was someone else there too, someone standing beside him. Someone he didn't either recognize or remember at all.


It was strange. Mostly because Ethan had a feeling he knew that person besides his younger self, but at the same time he didn't remember this photo ever being taken.


Why did they seem so familiar? His head hurt just thinking about it. That never happened before.


He stared at the photo for a while before Mary, Ethan's older sister, came into the old dusty room to get him for dinner.


“Ethan? Mom says dinner's ready,” she paused. “What are you doing?”


“Hey, Mary… do you know who this is besides me right here?” Ethan heard her footsteps get close before he was hit in the face with his sister's long brown hair.


“Who-” Mary broke off with a gasp when her eyes landed on the photo in her brother's hand. Why was that there?


“Mary? Are you okay? Do you know who this is?” The questions fell off Ethan's lips like rehearsed poetry at the reaction his sister gave. She knew who the person was.


Mary took a deep, shaky breath and turned to walk out of the room. “Ask mom and dad.” And with that, she walked out the room and down the stairs to the dinning room. Her posture was stiff, as if she were in a daze.


Ethan glanced at the picture and noticed something else. They were all smiling. Something his mother and sister didn't do often. The photo looked so natural. Had something happened to take their smiles away?


He really wanted to know who they were. Why had his sister acted like that? Who were they to his family? Why weren't they here now? Were they a relative?


Ethan paused. He was so dead. He wasn't even allowed in the room. But then again, the door was slightly opened after all, so you can't blame him. His parents would let him live, right? It's not like he snooped too much. I mean, he did find an old stuffed bear with a necklace around its neck with the initials E. E, but that was it... Aside from the many baby drawings, which they too had the initials E. E for some reason, and baby blankets with, you guessed it, the same initials.


E. E -Why did that look so familiar? Like he'd seen it somewhere before? Why can't he remember?!


“Ethan! Dinner!” His mother yelled from downstairs, and he scrambled to get up and softly close the door behind him.


“I'm coming ma!”


(·𖥸·)


Ethan was fidgeting with his sleeve throughout dinner and his parents kept looking at him oddly before his sister had enough and told Ethan to show them, what? they weren't sure, and then left the dinner table to her room, slamming the door shut.


“Ethan,” his mother started. “Mary said you wanted to tell us something, what is it, dear?”


Ethan swallowed hard. Will they tell me? Will they react badly? Will they be mad I entered the room? “Um, mom, dad, can I ask you something?”


“You already did, but go ahead.” His father laughed, making Ethan smile, before he brought the old photograph out from where he stashed it in his pocket and showed it to them. Wincing slightly at the small tear at the corner from when he crumpled it in his hurry.


“Who's this?” He pointed to the person, or child seeing the height was somewhat similar to Ethan's younger self, next to him. “Do you know them? Were they my childhood friend? Why don't I remember them? Are they relatives?” Again, his questions fell by themselves.


Silence followed those questions. He slowly looked up to meet the teary green eyes of his mother and the wide brown eyes of his father as they stared at the photograph in his hand.


His father looked down at his half empty plate and sighed, rubbing his forehead slowly, “I knew this day was coming.” His father said softly before reaching for his wife's hand that was clutching her fork in a white-knuckle grip and slowly easing her hand to give the fork a break. “Dear,” his father spoke to his mother. “It's time he knew, it's time he remembers too.” 


His mother didn't respond, just nodded her head slowly, her teary eyes never leaving the small child in the photo.


Ethan brought his attention back to his father when the man gave a shaky breath. “You see Ethan… You and Mary weren't our only children. We had 3 beautiful children. Your sister, Mary. You, Ethan. And your twin brother-”


“Evan, mio piccolo Angelo.” His mother whispered hoarsely in her native tongue, tears slowly making their way down her pale face.


Ethan froze. He had a twin brother? Where was he? Why wasn't he here with them?


His mother opened her mouth, as if sensing his questions, but only a choked sob came out. 


“Why- why don't I remember him? Where is he now? Why isn't he with us?”


His mother choked again before standing up and walking to the kitchen, where Ethan heard her sob quietly into her hands.


His father grabbed the photo from his hands and smiled sadly before speaking in a low tone. “The reason you don't remember and why he isn't here is because you, Evan and your mother were involved in an accident. One that took your memory of that day and the years before and left you that scar on your arm, it…” His father paused and swallowed while Ethan traced the scar on his left arm.


“It was the same accident that took Evan's life from us.”


Ethan stared blankly at his father, who solely focused on the smiling faces of his family from the photo.


“It was actually that same day that we took this photo of our happy family.”


Staring at the photograph, Ethan notice writing on the back. Writing that made his eyes tear up.


'We will always remember you, Evan Edwards. Fly High, mio Angelo!'

July 19, 2021 02:57

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.