I sat on the roof of my house, just outside my brother's bedroom on the second floor. It was a cold April morning, and daily life as we knew it ended. I sat right on the edge, feeling the edges of the gutter press into my clothed legs. It was a good feeling, I liked to sit here. I listened to the passing cars on the highway, voices from a distance, and just the peaceful sound of silence. It was gently misting, the powerlines covered in the morning dew of spring, and coating my face and arms in small beads of water. I ran my hand through my long brown hair, which was also moist from the rain and humidity. As I looked down at the moderately far drop from where I was, I felt like just falling off and never waking up again. But I didn't. I would be strong.
"Vince. It's cold out, please come back in." My brother was crouched in the window frame, with a concerned look on his face. Like always. Anton was a smart, charming young man. Three years older than me, but still my hero. He had been since the day we met. Anton had a slightly more buff body than me, due to him always working. He was a high school dropout since age 15 and wasn't planning on going to college. Neither was I. He had a white T-shirt on, covered with faded black smears from car oil and dirt. My brother was good-looking, he had a nice jawline, good posture, and great hair. Similar to mine, only his was shorter. And black. "Come on, man. You can't stay there all day."
"Sure I can," I said. "Didn't you used to sleep out here?"
"Yeah, a long time ago. And I'm your big brother. Listen to me, Vincent. Dad isn't doing well." I stood up, my legs and back aching from my sitting position. I turned my upper body so my back would crack, and walked towards the window. I turned around once more to take a deep breath of the fresh April air. Anton wiped the dew from my arms with his hand and sighed.
"Vince, please don't sit out there for that long anymore. I know how things are right now, but please just listen to me. I want you to be safe, and that responsibility falls on me." He was such a kind person. He always looked out for others, especially myself and my father. I heard a series of dry coughs from downstairs and quickly rushed to them. The hallway was dimly lit, the main light not working, but I didn't need light to navigate through this place.
Theodore James Bishop was a retired, sick man. Always needed an oxygen tank nearby, and lots of tissues. Lots of tissues. Todd spends most of his time outside or around the house. He wasn't overweight, walked daily when he was able to and cared for his children very much. Although he couldn't do as much as he would like to for us, it was okay. Anton worked to support our family, which we intended to stay that way for now. We lived in a small house with, a cheap mortgage, and not many expenses. I liked it, despite what others would say about it.
"Vincent. Anthony. Come." He said in-between coughs, the low hum of his breathing machine calming the moment. He adjusted his small brown glasses and looked at us. He held out his hands. The two of us each held one, sitting on the small ottoman that was always positioned in front of his chair by the fireplace. "My sons. I know it seems that all is lost, but things happen, for whatever reasons. People get hurt, and people hurt people. It's the most important part of life. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, but it is important to always remember this law of life."
I could see tears forming in Anton's eyes. My father's words always moved us deeply. I would have cried, but I didn't have any tears left. We sat with him for a while in silence and sometimes talked about our uneventful lives. I left the room and, despite my brother's wishes, went back into his room and out the window. I sat in my exact place from before, seeing the dry outline of where I was. As the gutter's metal sides slid back into the marks on my legs, I witnessed the same events as before. Peaceful silence, highway sounds, the mist still falling, and wanting to end it all right there and then. But I would never. My family needs me. She needs me. I hadn't stopped thinking of her since 4 A.M. When life ended. I tried not to think about it, but I could not make it go away. I slipped a cigarette out of the small box in my pocket, put it in my mouth, and retrieved my lighter. But it was no use. The cigarette had fallen one story down, where I wanted to be. As I envied its descent, I started crying again.
My girlfriend, Angie Foster, was the most important thing in my life. I always made time for her, which I had a lot of, and always was there for her. I told her that I would never let anything bad happen to her ever again, which makes this story all the more terrible. We met in seventh grade, in May of 2020. It took us about two years to fall in love, but when we did, we knew we would be together forever. I wasn't going to let anyone or anything take her from me. But it still happened. Angie was perfect in every way. She was beautiful, kind, caring, and a good person. We loved each other, deeply. We were each other's first kiss and had also lost our virginity to each other. We were very good together. I loved her like I've never loved anyone before. And so when I got that news at 4 A.M. this morning, my world stopped spinning.
Anton got home around 3:30 A.M. every morning and would wake up six hours later with me later. But he got home a little later today. I was awake, unable to sleep, just laying there in my bed. I tried sleeping pills. God, how I wish they worked. I heard his truck pull into the small driveway and could hear him just outside my window. He opened his door and slammed it without locking it. He always locked his car before leaving. I could hear his heavy breathing, like when you run a mile without stopping. I looked out the window a bit and saw him standing by the street with both hands in his hair, grabbing it almost like he was frustrated. Something was wrong. I jumped out of bed, put on my black hoodie, and opened the front door. He still stood there, even though I knew he heard me.
"Anton. What's wrong? Why are you standing out there like that?" I yelled. He stopped completely. He was frozen in place. I ran to him. "Hey, what's the matter with you-"
Anthony's eyes were wide open, and he was shaking. When he turned to me, he burst into tears. He just hugged me, very hard. I didn't understand what was happening. He was practically having a seizure at this point. He would shake rapidly, and then shake one big time when the tears would stop. They didn't stop though.
"Anthony, talk to me. Please. Did something happen at Jare's?" I asked. He shook his head, ever so slightly. He couldn't even look at me without breaking down.
"N-no, no. Vincent I don't want to tell you. Please go inside and leave me." He said. I grabbed the collar of his jacket and shook him. He tried to pull away but I had him good. "Please, Vince. Just stop. I can't." I pulled him closer.
"Tell me, goddamn it," I demanded. I was pulling him so hard that a small tear began to appear on his collar. I was about to slap him in the face. By now I wasn't concerned about waking my father up. I got in his face again, and yelled, "Fucking tell me!"
"Angie was attacked!" He yelled. "She was attacked and raped right outside Jare's!" He started crying again. My entire existence stopped. I felt like I was on an acid trip. I let go of Anthony. I stood there, watching him collapse to the ground. My vision was blurring. I couldn't breathe. It was like I was drifting farther down and down into an ocean and couldn't swim back up. Water enters my lungs, disabling my ability to take in air. I clutched my head just as Anthony had before, with such strength I thought it would rip out. There were no tears yet, I think I was in shock. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I just gave up. I fell to the cool, wet pavement, splitting my forehead open on impact. The tears started. Uncontrollable, and fast. Anthony was trying to help me up, but I was a corpse on the ground. I heard police sirens in the distance. Where were you? The people who are supposed to protect girls from assault?"
I was attempting to say something, but nothing happened. I heard a hollow, metallic clink, and saw my father coming out of the house. Moving his breathing machine down each step, made me even more sad to see. I couldn't just lay here in tears. I had to do something. It took every ounce of my physical and emotional strength to just get myself up. I stumbled back, and then I took off running down the street. I could hear my father yelling my name and looked back just enough to see Anthony chasing after me. He was running slow and had no chance of catching up. There was a moment when we locked eyes. And Anton knew to just give up. He nodded to me, and I continued running.
Tears staining my cold cheeks, hair blowing in the breeze, with my jacket open and my shorts on, I ran until I collapsed again. It felt like I lay there for hours. But it was just a few minutes. I heard footsteps approach my body and saw the blue and red flashing lights of a police car. The steel-toed boots reached my head, and the officer bent down.
"Vince. It's me." He said. I recognized the voice. It was the town sheriff, Daniel Ascher. "I expect you heard. Can you stand up?" His voice sounded like he was talking through a wall of water. I just nodded, and he pulled me up. He guided me to the vehicle and sat me in the bag, with my head and legs still outside. He looked at me, and I looked at him. He could tell how hard it hit me. I fell backward on to the seat, still awake, and just closed my eyes. While I was back there, being driven to god knows where, I overheard Daniel and his partner, Donnie, speaking softly.
I heard bits and pieces of, "...never be the same..." and "...broken for good...", but I wasn't paying much attention. The car stopped, and I assumed I was back at my home. Ready to be greeted by my sick father and poor brother, I was quite surprised. I was at the Mayland County police station. I started crying again. We all walked in, and Daniel led me to a small room and told me to wait. I sat there, in the gray room with the white fluorescent lights, I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was red from my breakdown, and my eyes were even redder. I took a long look at myself.
This is my fault.