Remember Me

Crazy, that’s what he is. Crazy. He has me tied to a chair in his apartment, a scarf over my eyes and socks shoved in my mouth. I can hear his footsteps, heavy thudding, walking towards me. I know it’s only a matter of time until I’m dead. Until he kills me.

It’s crazy to think just yesterday we were sitting at the dinner table, eating our Thanksgiving meal with family. I thought something felt off but ignored it. If I hadn’t, would I still be in this situation? I feel his hands reach behind my head, untying the scarf then taking the socks out of my mouth. I blink away the darkness and the sight hits me like a freight train.

I knew. I knew who kidnapped me. It wasn’t hard to guess. Still, seeing him, my best friend, my everything, my brother . . . It was hard to stop the tears that started to slide down my cheeks.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer, just stands and looks at me. I take in his appearance, the bags under his eyes, the weariness in his posture, the light missing from his eyes. I never thought I would ever see my brother looking like this. His voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

“You guys were forgetting about me.”

What? What is he talking about?

“It’s only a matter of time before you forget me for good.”

I- what is he talking about? He thought we were forgetting about him? Why- oh.

Suddenly his absence at family events made sense. For the past two years, he has

declined any invitation to outings, claiming he has work, and hasn’t shown up to any family events. I feel anger rise up in me.

“What the fuck?” He flinches back from me, eyes widening. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“I- you guys, I haven’t-”

“No. Don’t pin the blame on someone else. You didn’t show up at any family events. We weren’t forgetting about you, you just refused to show up! Do not blame anyone else for something you did all on your own.” I watch as his body tenses, not sure what to expect. He takes a breath, body untensing. A smile creeps onto his face. Goosebumps chase their way across my skin. This wasn’t the kind, loving brother I knew. This was someone else entirely, cold and cruel.

“You’ll remember me whether you want to or not.” He pulls a gun from his waistband and presses it to his temple. My mouth goes dry. He’s not going to kill me, he’s going to kill himself.

My tears come back with a vengeance, streaming down my face in waves. If it wasn’t for the ropes tying me to the chair, I would be able to do something. I watch in horror as his finger toys with the trigger, riding the line between life and death. He finally rests his finger on the trigger and looks at me, grinning ear to ear.

“Love you.” His tone is cold, not an ounce of love in it. He pulls the trigger.

BANG!

I can hear myself screaming. Parts of his brain spatter onto me. His body seems to fall in slow motion. The gun clatters out of his hand after it goes limp. I gag, trying not to look at his head. The smell of blood is cloying, seeping into my skin and tainting me with its sickly sweetness. I sob loudly, trembling from the shock.

I don’t know how long I sit there, tied to the chair.