House of memories and regret

It had been half a decade since he last visited the house, and he didn’t know what to expect, but he was hoping to find at least something, or someone. The flower garden at the entrance of the house was overgrown with tall weeds and vines that covered the walls like the angry tentacles of a monster, threatening to cave in at any moment. He carefully made his way into the house, looking around in the low light. The kitchen and sitting room were barely visible but he could make out several collapsed cabinets and bookcases, their containments shattered and sprawled on the withering wooden floor. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed something strange poking out of the dust and rubble. He bent to pick it up and turned it over in his hands, wiping off the dust. It was an old family photo, from before. It had a broken frame, but the picture remained intact. He carefully admired the photo, remembering when it was taken. He was younger then, smaller, besides him stood a boy no taller than he was. This was his brother, and behind them stood their mom and dad, standing together proudly. He noticed how the photo was beginning to wither around the top left corner, obscuring his dad’s face almost completely. It was as if not even the house wanted to remember what he looked like.  

His thoughts were distracted by the sound of rustling that came from behind and he turned towards it, expecting it to be a bird or some animal. There was nothing there. Then again, it was just behind him. He turned, and he swore he could see a shadow out of the corner of his eye, darting across the room, followed by the sound of familiar laughter. He cautiously followed the sound into a small corridor. There were four doors, three of which led to bedrooms. He found the one that led to his old room and pushed himself against the door. It was stiff and took a bit more effort to pry it open, and he was only able to budge it slightly to see inside. He quickly noticed why it was so difficult, as his old trophy shelf had collapsed against the door, the glass casing shattered across the floor. He frowned in disappointment, there was no way he was getting in there. 

Then he heard the laughter again, it was coming from the room across from his. The room that belonged to his brother. The door was slightly ajar and he peered inside. There he saw a shadow of a small boy that appeared to be playing with imagined toys on the overturned bed. The shadow perfectly matched the silhouette of the boy from the photo.

 "Bentley?" He approached him slowly, stepping over the mess, trying to get its attention, but he ignored him as if he wasn't even there. Before he got too close a voice came from the other room. 

"Dinner's ready!" 

"Coming ma!" The boy called out as he put down his invisible toys and ran off towards the kitchen in a blur. Curious, he followed him back through the corridor. 

"Coming!" Came a voice that was quite similar to his own. His door swung open and another shadow stumbled out. 

Despite the kitchen being in shambles, a group of shadowy figures gathered around the table as the tallest one, the mom, appeared to pass something around to them before sitting down at the head. She was tall and slim, and had her hair pulled back into soft curls that fell onto where her shoulders would be. Her voice was sweet but authoritative, and she could call the attention of a room easily. The two boys at the other end were playfully arguing over some game when she stopped them to say grace. 

He stood there and watched as they ate dinner. It was like a memory pulled right out of his childhood, everything was there. That was, except for-

dad

"Where's dad?" said the boy that resembled him.

The mom stopped, putting down her fork and looked up at him. There was indeed one empty chair, and the figure that resembled his dad had not yet shown up. Mom sighed and shook her head. "He's still at work honey, he won't be back for another hour. Now finish up, then you should finish with your times' tables."

"But ma~" The oldest wined. "I just finished with that!" 

"Okay, then. What's eight times six?"

"Forty-eight. Can we go play after?"

"Please ma?" chimed the youngest.

"If you two stop talking and finish your casserole, I'll give you both half an hour of playtime before you have to get ready for bed."

He remembered the day his dad had not come home from work that evening, and no one knew what had happened to him. He didn't know what was happening at the time, and neither did anyone else. He just sort of disappeared. 

After the two boys had finished, they got up and ran into the sitting room, their shadows passing through the broken debris like ghosts, laughing. He carefully followed them, trying not to step on broken glass or blown up floorboards, watching as they grabbed pretend swords and started play-fighting. Despite there being a three-year age gap between them, they were inseparable, almost like twins. He started to feel sad, as he hadn't seen his brother in years. Knowing what went wrong, he didn't know how he would ever be able to make it up to him. Bentley always tried to see the good in people, he was always positive, despite everything around him going bad. His amount of positivity could be unbearable sometimes, but in general, he found it admirable. Being the older one, he tended to be more negative; more realistic, as he saw it. They balanced each other perfectly.

After a round of their game, he noticed some things beginning to change from how he remembered. The oldest put down his sword and knelt to help his brother up after he was knocked to the ground. Then the youngest got up and started to walk in his direction. This scared him and he froze in place. The shadow looked up at him, and even though he didn't have eyes, he could feel as though they were looking into his. Locked in a trance, he could not move, then it spoke, in a voice that sounded so uncharacteristically stern it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"You left him, Fred."

"Wh-what, Bentley, I-" He stuttered, barely able to find his words.

"five years ago, two years since dad disappeared. You left home."

Fred wanted to run, to scream, but he found that he couldn't move, it was like sleep paralysis. The walls gave in around him and he screamed as he was plunged into total darkness. Then there was the deafening silence, was he dead? He looked around, growing tenser. All he could hear was his heart racing, encompassing him in every direction was nothing but black. He was dead, wasn't he? 

Suddenly Bentley's voice rang out through the silence, and he jumped.

 "He looked up to you, Fred, you know." The voice surrounded him as if it was coming from everywhere and nowhere and he could not find the source. "He was so broken when you left. You were his only friend."

"I- what about the note I left?"

"You really think that that would have sufficed. Yes, he still has the note, carries it in his pocket everywhere he goes," The voice scoffed.

He knew that it was a dumb question, that it would have been better if they would have stuck together, but he needed to find the truth, and with Ma in the hospital, he didn't want to risk being put into the care of a stranger he never met. Bentley would never be able to survive in the wild the way he could, and he felt as though he needed to know what had happened to their dad. No more lies. It was a sacrifice. But, was it worth it?

"No." The voice responded to his thoughts, it was in his mind, reading his thoughts. "It was not worth it. Now that he has to live like this. Wondering if you would ever come back."

"So he's still out there. Where is he? I-" He paused. "How can I make it up to him?" 

"You seriously want to know?"

"Yes, I do."

"He's in The City, living with mom's step-sibling, Diamond. If You want to make it up to him, you should start by being there. But don't expect him to be so quick to forgive."

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Fredrick woke up in a cold sweat. Looking out of his makeshift tent, he looked north, towards where The City would be. It was still about a hundred kilometers to walk from where he was, but he was determined. He packed his things and began his journey.