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[personal profile] drippedonpaper
There was only one bed on our side of the hotel room.

Christopher was annoying, truly he was. Ten year younger than me, at age six he had flown right past “cute, new, and harmless” and straight into the “feral but Omni present” stage of brotherhood that, I swear led Ishmael and Isaac to hate each other enough we still don’t have peace in the Middle East. I digress, but I do mean it.

Christopher was skinny, hyper, kicked in his sleep and somehow drooled on my pillow (mine not his) that night.

“Mom, Christopher is annoying, this isn’t fair,” I whined as we both donned our ridiculous tuxedos. Aunt Charlotte was getting married, thus the tuxes and the too small hotel room and my drooled on pillow.

“I am not annoying, I am Spider-Man,” Christopher insisted. Shaking loose of mom, he ran over to our bed and jumped off, saying, “Saving the world, spider style.” He landed right on my open suitcase.

“Mom,” I yelled, running over to my suitcase. “ He almost broke my phone! I can’t deal with him today.”

“ You have to and you will,” she replied calmly. “And you will be the cutest groomsman and ring bearer ever,” she smiled. "Now, pose so I can take your photo.”

(I still have that photo on my phone. Messy suitcases behind us. Christopher wearing his spider man cape over his tux. Me, looking annoyed and bored. Two brothers who couldn't be more different.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding went pretty well. Everything went as rehearsed except Christopher ran down the aisle, rather than the slow steps to the music. He ran down yelling, “I am saving the world!”

Mom stepped forward, calmed him down and everyone did a quiet relieved chuckle. They laughed louder when Christopher yelled “Gross,” as Aunt Charlotte kissed our new Uncle Joe.

At the reception, they kept stopping by the table, saying, “Christopher did great, oh and Charlie too,” as though Christopher had quietly fulfilled his duties while I was the loud screw-up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Christopher gets away with everything,” I texted my friend, Aurora.

“I think he can be cute.” She texted back.

“He can be, if you never have to sleep with him, or lose him, or take care of him” I texted back.

Christopher and I were swimming at the hotel pool. He was swimming, I was texting Aurora.

“Is he swimming any better?” Aurora texted.


“Let me check” I looked up. Aurora was finally replying in real time and, yet again, Christopher was ruining my fun.

I scanned the kiddie pool. Oops, no Christopher in his stupid Spider-Man swim suit. That kid! Why couldn't he just stay where he was supposed to?

I reluctantly got up to walk to the restroom. Maybe Christopher was in there. I checked the stalls. No Christopher.

When I exited the restroom, I came out to a commotion. There were swarms of people circled around something ... someone on the ground. I could hear sirens in the parking lot.

Mom ran up, grabbed my arm. “Charlie, it’s not ….Charlie, where, where is Christopher?”

I looked up and when her eyes met mine, I think we both knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a two part story. It continues here:

https://drippedonpaper.dreamwidth.org/34885.html

Date: 2025-12-01 01:10 am (UTC)
alycewilson: Photo of me after a workout, flexing a bicep (Default)
From: [personal profile] alycewilson
Oh, no! I haven't read the second part yet, but my heart is sinking about what this seems to indicate.

Date: 2025-12-03 08:15 pm (UTC)
halfshellvenus: (Default)
From: [personal profile] halfshellvenus
I feel for the older brother here! This prompt originally made me think of sharing hotel room beds with my younger sister, who was a very active sleeper. I'm a light sleeper, and between her and my Dad's sleep apnea in the hotel room, I never got much sleep on vacations.

A missing six-year-old strikes fear into the heart of every parent AND older sibling!

Date: 2025-12-04 06:59 pm (UTC)
inkstainedfingertips: (Default)
From: [personal profile] inkstainedfingertips
Your 2 parts fit together pretty seamlessly, Maria. This is such a sad and tragic tale. It's hard seeing him blame himself for everything and it shows how one small decision, one moment of inattention can have ripple effects on your entire life. On the lives of everybody invovled, really.

The tattoo is a very unsettling element. Hearing the voice of his brother after getting the memorial tattoo is dark and disturbing, giving your piece a nice supernatural flavor.

I like that even with the "mystical" elements, you ground us in the present and in reality. And that reality is sad and dark. You do a wonderful job of conveying the pain and the grief, and really making us feel his hurt and loss.

Tragic pieces, Maria. But really nicely written.

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