I’ll never forget the day I met Cameron, let alone regret it. It was a warm yet breezy summer day. I was at the park; my mom thought we could all use some fresh air. I sat on one of the benches and there was a guy about my age sitting with me. He had a guitar on his lap, strumming away. I stared straight ahead, my parents are talking with someone they know (and I don’t).

   Not long do I realize that there’s something captivating about this guy sitting next to me. It’s the melody coming from his strumming guitar. Then I realized he had the same Fender guitar like Lawrence, my brother. Just with a different shade of brown. Tears start to well up in my eyes as a rush of memory came invading my blank thoughts. I hung my head back, trying to hold the tears back.

   Softly I sung out a lyric I’ve been working on, “Where the hell have you been? It’s cold here when you’re not with me…”

   Then the strumming stopped. “Wow.” I heard someone said, it was that guy who’s been playing the guitar (obviously). “Can you sing that line again?” he asked. I studied him, he has a slightly tanned skin, his dark brown hair hung low right over his eyebrows… His hazel eyes… staring at mine… It seems similar… Lawrence’s eyes was hazel…

   “Please?” He said again. I snapped back into reality and sung that line softly.

   “Wow.” He shook his head, “Just… wow.”

   “What’s wrong?” I asked. Stupid question.

   “No, nothing’s wrong…” he rested his arms on his guitar, “You know, I’ve been working on that song for, like, three weeks.”

   I nodded to what he said, merely because I just don’t know what to say.

   “Three,” he hold up a three with his finger, “weeks.”

   “O…kay…”

   “And you sat here next to me for not more than ten minutes and already produced a line!” he struggled to find something else to say, but all he came out with was, “Wow.”

   “Thanks, I guess…” I stared back ahead; my parents were still talking with their friends. They seem to be in a deep conversation, my mom dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex from time to time. It must be about my brother. I could just tell from “the look” their friends are giving my parents.

   “I’m Cameron, by the way,” he held out his hand.

   I shook his, “Linden.”

   “Linden?” he asked, “Do you know that there’s a band called Linden?”

   I shook my head, “Really? I didn’t know that.”

   “Well you should check them out. They’re great.”

   “I’ll do that.” Well this was getting awkward.

   Not long after my mom waved goodbye to her friends and motioned me to come to her. “I, uh… have to go.” I said standing up.

   “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” He smiled. Such a heart breaking smile.

   “Yeah. I guess.” I said as I walked away and waved at him. How could I not regret meeting Cameron, he was too much like my brother…

***

   When my brother died, my world crumbled into pieces; comes crashing down; flipped upside down; all of the above. I know, that’s what they all say, and crap, were they right. My world did come crashing down. And it felt that everything was upside down. Literally. Things just don’t make any sense.

   I didn’t cry. Nonsense #1. People would have broken down and cried till they gasp for air, they had to give you oxygen. The way my mother did. But I didn’t. I was numb. I didn’t know how to feel, how to react.

   I could still remember the blue-and-red light flashing through my blinds. I knew something wasn’t right. I shot up from bed and ran downstairs. My parents were talking to the police officers. My dad held my mom on her waist, just in case she lost her equilibrium. She kept on shaking her head and moaned, “No… No…”

   My dad looked at me through his hollow eyes and said, “It’s Lawrence. There’s been an accident…”

   I just stared at him, not knowing what to say. Too overwhelmed by that one sentence my dad just said… It echoed in my head… There’s been an accident… Lawrence… accident…

   Next thing I know we were all at the hospital. They took us to my brother’s room, which filled with blinding fluorescent light. All sorts of life support machines was jacked to his body. I stared at the heart monitor, constantly beating at normal intervals. I started to wonder if he’s going to make it after all. I prayed and prayed. Repeatedly in my head I prayed that he’d open his eyes and he’d smile at me and ask me how his favorite girl in the world is doing. The way he always does when I wake up every morning.

   “We tried everything we could… There was just too much blood in his brain… I’m sorry, ma’am… He’s brain-dead.” The red haired doctor told my parents. I could only faintly hear what she just said. But that last word hit me. Brain-dead. My brother is brain-dead. Which is just the equivalent to dead. Which still means that he’s never going to open his eyes again. Which means that he’s dead anyways. Gone. Kaput.

   The doctor repeatedly apologized. I felt like telling her to shut the hell up. But it would seem ungrateful of me as she just spent what’s left of her Saturday night working her ass off trying to save my brother.

   I went up to Lawrence, held his hand and buried my head in his chest. Right then, I started to cry.

***

   It was not until the day of the funeral that I know what had actually happened to Lawrence. I overheard some of our neighbors whispering as I set yet another casserole down in the kitchen counter.

   “It was a tragic accident, really.”

   “It was a car accident wasn’t it?”

   “Yes, the driver was drunk. She’s now charged with DUI and is going to a hearing the day after tomorrow I heard…”

   “Oh my God… Who was the driver?”

   Then I heard the lady mentioned the driver. I dropped a plate out of my hands and it come crashing into pieces. The ladies stopped their conversation and rushed their way into the kitchen to help me. As I stood up, I saw her by the kitchen doorway.

   “Linden, I’m…” I didn’t wait for her to finish. I just shook my head and ran upstairs to my room. Overwhelmed with grief and utter disappointment, I cried myself to sleep.

***

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