One - David

One - David

My father was all I had holding me together. He was my rock. The others called him a hero, but in the end; he was just my dad. Gabriel Shaw. Father. Friend. Leader. The cold stone sits in front of me, mocking me almost. Milo’s hand lands on my shoulder. He shakes me a bit before walking away with his mom. Asher doesn’t speak. He stands there and waits. I hear a sniffle and footsteps approaching me. Amina stands beside me, her hair in a tight bun. She is the only girl that wore a leather jacket, blank tank top, jeans and her black combat boots. She never believed in formal clothes, but Dad wouldn’t have had it any other way.

It never mattered what Amina thought, but for how bad the situation is, she held in the tears until everyone was gone. She’s always been stubborn like that. Asher gently pats the top of the headstone and walks to his car. I turn to Amina and wait. She was close with Dad. When she was a baby, her parents wanted nothing to do with her. For the longest time, Dad thought she’d find her place. She didn’t. Being the smallest of the pack, no one really noticed her. Dad took this as a sign and went through the whole process of adopting her. She didn’t know how to be a kid. She was left alone and missed out on a lot of that childhood experience. That was my job; to show her the way. I’ve bever had anything against Amina. She’s my sister.

I pull her close and rest my chin on the top of her head. She takes a second before she realizes she can cry. When she does, I wrap my arms around her, trying to protect her.. I don’t even know what I am protecting her from. Dad was the only person she trusted. Only he would know what to do now. Since he’s gone, I take the role as alpha and the person she can go to. It doesn’t feel like much has changed. He’s not really gone, right?

Amina looks out the window as we drive home. I watch her mouth as she silently counts the road signs passing us. That’s a way she copes; counting. She’s not wearing her seatbelt. I fight the urge to reach over her and pull it over her, but it gets the best of me. I pull her out of her trance and she watches the buckle click. Turning my attention back to the road, I can see her looking at me.

“Why?” she asks.

“Hm?” I turn on the blinker.

“Why now? He wouldn’t just wait a few more years when I’m gone and not as attached. He couldn’t just wait. If he did, maybe you wouldn’t be alone. You wouldn’t be stuck with me.” She’s talking more than she normally does. I didn’t answer and instead scoffed. We pull into the driveway and I tell her to deal with it in a way that won’t get her killed. She disappears into the woods almost instantly. It doesn’t feel like home without him. Days pass and Amina doesn’t come back. Surprised? No. She’s left for weeks before. I’ve been as strong as I can, but it’s hard to look at myself in the mirror when I replaced him so quickly.

Silence. That’s all I want for once. Everyone in the pack is on me about the events and the security company. I’m 23, not a 7-year-old. I know what’s wrong and right in this business. No one understands that. I’ve made rules for myself.

No friends (the pack is fine)

Don’t sit and listen to what other people think about you

Don’t take shit from others

Three is my favorite. People say I’m moody. I prefer the word competent. I run this company with the rest of the pack and even that’s not enough for me. I want a reason to be happy. I love Amina and everything, but she isn’t what I mean. I want a person of my own. But does it really matter what I want? Maybe I’ll be alone. That’s not terrible. I won’t have anyone holding me back. Amina returned after a month.. I didn’t yell at her because I’ve had myself knee-deep in work since she left. She’s one of the best seekers in the pack. Now that it’s October, everyone is having big events like festivals, weddings, and other shit. I don’t really go out into the field anymore and instead stay back, filling out paperwork. Asher asks me all the time if I want him to stay with me. My answer is the same each time.

It’s late when I get home. Amina is standing in the kitchen, staring out the window with the lights off. I walked over to her and touched her shoulder. Only now can I see her face damp with tears. She wipes her face and fakes a smile, looking at me. I take a second. Her eyes are red from crying. She hates being alone. That’s why Dad’s death hurt her so much. Separation anxiety. It actually is a lot worse than it sounds. I hug her quickly and pull my hoodie off. The only way to make her feel better is ice cream and a movie. Dad told me that when he was leaving for a trip with Milo’s parents. She runs to the freezer and pulls out a tub of ice cream, laughing.

I grab two spoons and motion to the couch. We sat down. She grabs the remote and puts on a show literally made for two-year-olds. I give her a look and she laughs. At least she’s smiling. Amina had a hard time. Maybe not as bad as me, but it has been hard. When she returned from her trip in the woods, she had bruises and cuts all down her back. I wasn’t bringing it up just yet. If she finds a mate, or a boyfriend, or whatever, I just want them to realize how special she is. Sure, she’s a little rough around the edges, but everyone is. Amina truly is something everyone needs around.

By the seventh episode of the series of stupidity, she’s passed out, curled up in the couch's corner. I grab what’s left of the ice cream and toss it into the trash. When that’s done, I load the dishwasher. Amina hasn’t been to her apartment since Dad’s accident. I don’t really know what to do with her. She feels slight as I lift her off the couch. As a kid, Dad used to say she was a cloud because of how light she was.

“I’ll bring you home in the morning, okay?” I ask, resting her down on the bed she used to call hers. She nods, pulling her blanket over her side. Just as I’m leaving the room, she says my name.

“Thank you. You’re a good brother. I love you.” Her voice is weak, but loud enough for me to hear.

“I love you too, kid.” A smile makes its way onto my face as I leave the room and shut the door. I breathe out. One day, maybe, I’ll find my way to say those words too. That’s something. Finding a mate. I know it’s complicated. Which is why I’m not too eager to rush into it. Maybe a few years alone will put me in the right mindset for that, but not right now. Amina is more likely to find someone before me, and that’s saying something. It’s not a bad thing, but it kind of is because if she has someone before me, it just means the older brother’s gotta step up his game. Dad's jacket rests on a hanger on my door. It’s the last thing I see before I doze off. He's the last thing I think about. He was a great man and I’m glad he was my father. I’m glad he brought Amina into the Shaw family, too. He was a true man. I’ll miss him. Always. I’m proud to be a Shaw.