The intentional Accident

It was 12:36.

No, “It was 12:36!” I shouted it, yelling at the top of my lungs because I had no other choice. Because I had lost the man I loved, the one who had been the first true love of my life. And because I was on the verge of losing the only person who, I thought, had been with me, on my side, for my entire life.

“It was… How could you know that? I mean, they didn’t say anything about those kinds of details did they?”

“Do you want to know how? I know because I looked at my phone right after we hung up. I thought about calling him back, but I didn’t. I didn’t call him back because right at the end of the call I heard a voice, and Elijah said that he had to go. He said he would call me back later, and then he was gone. I never heard his voice again, but I know that at least one person did. 

August 11, at exactly 12:36 PM. Noah, Elijah, and their mutual friends Marco and James were on a boys weekend in Maine, when a fun bonding weekend turned into a nightmare in a matter of minutes.

I almost choked up thinking about the last time that I'd heard his voice, and had to pause to compose myself before I continued. I composed myself, and then looked up, and stared into his eyes. Into the face which I had known for so many years, had gone to crying every night for two weeks after our mother died, and, recently, had begun to hate.

“The voice I heard in the background was you, Noah. And don’t even try to deny it because I’ve heard your story so many times that I remember every single detail. I know that Marco and James were out hiking, and that it was just the two of you alone. The first time I heard you say that you had been upstairs listening to music I didn’t even think twice. I guess I was just too shocked to comprehend any of what I was listening to. But then I heard you say it again, and again, and I remembered that phone call. I’ve gone back just to look at the time the call ended, any way to make it make sense. But it doesn’t make sense, does it Noah? You were with him. You were with him and you, you just let him die? You’re a lifeguard, you could have easily done something if you wanted to. But instead you stood there, and called 9-1-1 only after he was already dead. Even now that there’s no way around the truth I still can’t really believe it.”

I had been looking at the floor this whole time, but now I looked up. Despite everything, I still had some hope that he would have an explanation, something to make all my doubts go away, so that I could go back to him and let him console me as he had done every other time something had gone wrong in my life. But he only looked back at me, his mouth opening and then closing again, as if he was trying to say something but the words wouldn’t come out. 

So I continued, “I loved him. I really did. We… on the phone he said that he loved me, and I knew from his voice that there was something wrong, but I decided to ignore it. In that moment, I thought about our future and, well… I believed that we were so perfectly poised to go into the next few years and really start our lives together. I saw us with a family, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I thought that if I just ignored it, I wouldn’t have to worry about it ever again. I thought that Elijah would wake up the next morning and call me, not to talk about anything really, but just to make sure that I was up and feeling ready to go into the day. But he didn’t, and I know that you know why. I tried to believe that you didn’t because I couldn’t afford to lose you too, but…” My voice trailed off as I saw a change in my brother's face.

 Noah had been matching my gaze, looking at me, I thought, earnestly. But now, the corners of his mouth raised. It was just a twitch, but I noticed it anyway. He glanced down at the floor, and then his dark green eyes met mine, with a new steel about them that I couldn’t recall ever having seen before.

“Come on Sarah. I’m sure it was hard. Really. I don’t want you to think that I’m heartless or whatever, but… Have you not noticed what’s happened in your life since then?” He stood up, towering over me as I stayed in the chair, holding his gaze. “You moved out, finally, you started a new job, I mean really almost every part of your life has changed for the better. He was holding you back, and you’re better off now that I....” a pause, as Noah realized that he’d finally said out loud what we’d all known all along. “Now that Elijah’s gone.” That little hint of a smirk again, and finally Noah looked away. I thought I had known my brother. How could I not? I’d lived with him for almost 23 years after all. But I hadn’t, and now, for the first time, I felt truly afraid.

In a flash, all of my favorite memories with Noah came back to me. When I was 5, and he was 8, and we went to Disney World for the first time. I still remember the look on his face after he got off of Space Mountain, a mixture of awe and the most pure happiness I had ever seen. I had been devastated that I had been only an inch too short to ride, but his happiness was contagious, and I now remember that day as one of the best of my life. This was also one of the last times our family was complete. Only 2 months later we got the news that my mother had stage 3 lung cancer. And 8 months after that it was just the two of us and our dad, as it would remain until I Noah moved out when he turned 19.

Four years later, as I finished elementary school, and Noah was at that age when he came back from school almost every other day with some new note from Ms. Hartman explaining his newest antics in class. He was tough, for sure, or at least that was the aura he and every other seventh grader wanted to present. But when I came home from school crying because I had gotten my first ever C, he sat down with me and consoled me. And then every night until I understood every aspect of adding and subtracting fractions, and the times tables were fully cemented in my head.

And when I graduated from college, I remember my brother being the first person to come up to me to congratulate me on receiving my diploma. And he was the first person I wanted to see, because, for my whole life, I had looked up to Noah. After our mother's death, and our father's death while I was a sophomore in college, Noah had become the only family I had left. We got each other through these tough times, and became even closer than we had ever been when we lived together. I never would have told him this, but he was my idol, and I had always tried to emulate him in everything I had done. Elijah and I had already been dating, but he had to wait to congratulate me until after Noah and I had hugged and talked about the ceremony. 

Of course, thinking back on it now, my memories of that moment take on a far different meaning. Noah had been the first to congratulate me, yes. But he had stepped in front of Elijah, cutting him off as he walked towards me. During the party later that day, when the two of them had disappeared for 15 minutes, and come back separately. But they hadn’t talked to each other for the rest of that night. I realize now that none of my memories with Noah will ever feel the same again, even the purest of memories diluted with the knowledge of what he had done.

I looked at my brother, in the present once again, and saw him for who he really was. As I saw him in front of me, I realized that despite all of those great memories, that jealousy which had led to Elijah’s death had always been there. Physically he was still the same Noah that I had grown up with, but in my idolization of him I had missed all the signs, unaware for far too long about how manipulative and abusive he had really been. Standing at 6’ 3”, he had always been a star athlete, and the remnants of his college athlete days were still very clear, as the pulsating veins in his neck and arms divulged the true anger he felt towards me, or probably more accurately towards my now-deceased boyfriend, Elijah. His long black hair was tied up in a bun, revealing his newly-receding hairline, and his eyes, so dark they almost seemed to match the black of his hair, were still staring at me. I saw the anger in his eyes, as well, but there was more. Apprehension, maybe, as if he knew what my next words would be. 

“Noah, I need you to leave.”

“Sarah, maybe I made a mistake. How many times have I been there to help you over the years? Sure, this is more serious but you are going to live a better life now that you’re free from him. I I know you thought that you loved him but it wasn’t going to last. I could see that, and that’s what I told him when we talked earlier in the day. That’s probably why something seemed off on the phone. I told him that he needed to leave you, but he refused. So when the opportunity came to make that happen, I took it. Everything I did was to protect you, so that you didn’t waste the best years of your life in a dead-end relationship. And really, you know that I didn’t actually do anything, I just-”

I cut him off there, “That’s right. You did nothing. There was a human in front of you dying, struggling to take his last breaths, and you chose to do nothing. You’re pathetic. And if you weren’t still my brother I wouldn’t just let you walk away, but....” 

As I spoke to my brother for the last time, I imagined Elijah’s last moments. I pictured him lying on the floor, struggling for his last breaths as the grape which ended his life attempted to make its futile journey down his trachea. And I imagined Noah standing there, watching the life leave Elijah, and feeling satisfied that he would no longer have to worry about someone getting too close to his sister.

“But I can’t. I’ll never talk to you again, and you’re lucky that’s all that will happen to you. Because you deserve worse.” 

And, just like that, without saying another word, my brother turned around and opened the door to my apartment. He looked back one last time, as if he had something more to say, but when he saw my determination he turned back and walked out of my apartment, and out of my life.