Post by Baker Atkinson on Oct 21, 2012 15:02:47 GMT -5
I've been going to therapy sessions since the accident. Since then, I can't go a single night without waking up on the floor, screaming. Its gotten a little better because, well, Doctor Matthus is a genius. But I still can't sleep a whole night without that faceless demon finding its way into my dreams and killing me too.
Common discussions between me and Doc M include my older brother, Henry. I haven't seen Hen since the funerals.. that's eight whole years. The last thing he said to me was "don't talk to me, you're too much like him". So I haven't. I haven't called, emailed, we're not even friends on facebook anymore. I can't help but think that he blames me just as much as I do.
Last week's therapy assignment was to call him. I pleaded with Doc M, told him everything Hen told me about leaving him alone and all that. He didn't listen though. He told me if Hen and I didn't meat up, I was never going to let go. And that's true.. I've been pretending I lost Henry too. Sometimes its just easier to pretend he was killed along with them.
I went home and I called Henry. He didn't answer, one of his kids did. The last time I checked, which was eight years ago, Henry had two daughters. But this was a little boy. I almost cried. I'd been so distant from Hen that I didn't even know if I was talking to someone that might be his son, my nephew. It hurt me when I thought about the fact that this kid probably had no idea who I was. And he didn't.
"Hullooo?" the little voice was muffled through the phone. He sounded like he couldn't be more than six years old. I could barely speak without losing it.
"Is.. is your daddy home? Henry?" is all I asked. There was a pause, some muffled speaking in the background. It sounded like a woman, so I assumed it was Henry's wife. The boy came back.
"Who's calling please?" he said, then, "how was that?" further away, like he'd turned from the phone. I couldn't help but smile. He was too cute.
"This is.. Baker," I wasn't sure whether to say 'uncle' or not. This kid really had no idea who I was.. I thought I might've freaked him out if I added that I was somehow related to him.
"Daddy! There's a baker on the phone!" I heard him yell in the opposite direction of the phone. I giggled, hearing how he called me a baker. There was about two minutes before Henry got on the phone.
"Yes?" he asked. I didn't know what to say. I'd been waiting eight years for this moment. Building up strength to even say hello. For eight whole years. And here I was, choking, mouth open but no words coming out.
"Uh.. Hen? That you?" I finally got out. Now it was his turn to pause.
"Yes.." he said again, but this time he sounded a little scared. It punched me in the gut when he didn't recognize my voice.
"Hen.. its Baker. Baker Atkinson. Your.. your little brother," I was mumbling. Totally talking like I had marbles in my mouth. I figured it was best to hang up. Pulling the phone from my ear, it neared the base when I heard a subtle "Baker..?". I immediately put the phone back to my ear and answered with a "yea, yea its me". There was a long pause on his end of the phone again.
"God. How, uh.. how are you?" he asked. I could tell he was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
"I'm alright, Hen. I'm alright. How are you?" I replied. I felt like I was talking to some guy I'd never met before. I almost felt like I had to reintroduce myself.
"Good.. good. Is something wrong?" he asked. I laughed, thinking how strange it was that something had to be wrong for me to call my own brother.
"No.. nothings wrong. I just.. I just missed you," I think that hit him. He paused the longest he'd done so far.
"I miss you too, Bake," he was always the only one to ever call me Bake. I hated it when anyone else called me that.. but it was different with him. Same for me calling him Hen. He hated that.. but it was sort of like an inside joke between me and him.
To make a long story short, he invited me to come to his house in Illinois for a week long visit. I agreed, of course, leaving Tony with the dog at my place. I couldn't have been more excited. It was weird, really. The whole time it felt like I was going to meet with someone I'd never met.. or meet with my dead brother. It was always so much easier to just pretend he died too.. but I needed this. I'd needed it for a long time. I just hadn't known it until I got onto that plane.
The flight was long, but I honestly slept the whole time. 'Cept when I woke up to order some coffee which only put me back to sleep.. I don't know how that worked out but it did.
Henry and his family were waiting for me at the airport. Him, his wife and his four children. FOUR. Where these other two kids came from, I had no idea. Three girls and a boy. The boy I'd talked to on the phone, no doubt. Henry looked just like he had eight years ago.. he was thirty five now but if you'd've asked me, he still looked like he was twenty seven. What a stud he was. Always had been, too. I remember always looking up to him.
We talked for a long time. This wasn't just my homecoming to him, it was my introduction to the kids. I'd never met any of them. Not even the two I'd known about. They must have been having such fun getting used to an entirely new family member.
Leaving was sad. We had visited our old house back in the neighborhood where dad, mom and Aubree had died. A new family had moved in, the Hajek's. That was their name. We decided not to tell them that three people had died here.. only that we had lived here once. They were very welcoming and it was refreshing to walk around inside, reliving our childhood. But the happiness ended when it was time for me to get back on that plane to go home. I'd never realized how much I missed Hen..
he was so mad about this picture.. he was complaining about how pale and short he is XD
Common discussions between me and Doc M include my older brother, Henry. I haven't seen Hen since the funerals.. that's eight whole years. The last thing he said to me was "don't talk to me, you're too much like him". So I haven't. I haven't called, emailed, we're not even friends on facebook anymore. I can't help but think that he blames me just as much as I do.
Last week's therapy assignment was to call him. I pleaded with Doc M, told him everything Hen told me about leaving him alone and all that. He didn't listen though. He told me if Hen and I didn't meat up, I was never going to let go. And that's true.. I've been pretending I lost Henry too. Sometimes its just easier to pretend he was killed along with them.
I went home and I called Henry. He didn't answer, one of his kids did. The last time I checked, which was eight years ago, Henry had two daughters. But this was a little boy. I almost cried. I'd been so distant from Hen that I didn't even know if I was talking to someone that might be his son, my nephew. It hurt me when I thought about the fact that this kid probably had no idea who I was. And he didn't.
"Hullooo?" the little voice was muffled through the phone. He sounded like he couldn't be more than six years old. I could barely speak without losing it.
"Is.. is your daddy home? Henry?" is all I asked. There was a pause, some muffled speaking in the background. It sounded like a woman, so I assumed it was Henry's wife. The boy came back.
"Who's calling please?" he said, then, "how was that?" further away, like he'd turned from the phone. I couldn't help but smile. He was too cute.
"This is.. Baker," I wasn't sure whether to say 'uncle' or not. This kid really had no idea who I was.. I thought I might've freaked him out if I added that I was somehow related to him.
"Daddy! There's a baker on the phone!" I heard him yell in the opposite direction of the phone. I giggled, hearing how he called me a baker. There was about two minutes before Henry got on the phone.
"Yes?" he asked. I didn't know what to say. I'd been waiting eight years for this moment. Building up strength to even say hello. For eight whole years. And here I was, choking, mouth open but no words coming out.
"Uh.. Hen? That you?" I finally got out. Now it was his turn to pause.
"Yes.." he said again, but this time he sounded a little scared. It punched me in the gut when he didn't recognize my voice.
"Hen.. its Baker. Baker Atkinson. Your.. your little brother," I was mumbling. Totally talking like I had marbles in my mouth. I figured it was best to hang up. Pulling the phone from my ear, it neared the base when I heard a subtle "Baker..?". I immediately put the phone back to my ear and answered with a "yea, yea its me". There was a long pause on his end of the phone again.
"God. How, uh.. how are you?" he asked. I could tell he was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
"I'm alright, Hen. I'm alright. How are you?" I replied. I felt like I was talking to some guy I'd never met before. I almost felt like I had to reintroduce myself.
"Good.. good. Is something wrong?" he asked. I laughed, thinking how strange it was that something had to be wrong for me to call my own brother.
"No.. nothings wrong. I just.. I just missed you," I think that hit him. He paused the longest he'd done so far.
"I miss you too, Bake," he was always the only one to ever call me Bake. I hated it when anyone else called me that.. but it was different with him. Same for me calling him Hen. He hated that.. but it was sort of like an inside joke between me and him.
To make a long story short, he invited me to come to his house in Illinois for a week long visit. I agreed, of course, leaving Tony with the dog at my place. I couldn't have been more excited. It was weird, really. The whole time it felt like I was going to meet with someone I'd never met.. or meet with my dead brother. It was always so much easier to just pretend he died too.. but I needed this. I'd needed it for a long time. I just hadn't known it until I got onto that plane.
The flight was long, but I honestly slept the whole time. 'Cept when I woke up to order some coffee which only put me back to sleep.. I don't know how that worked out but it did.
Henry and his family were waiting for me at the airport. Him, his wife and his four children. FOUR. Where these other two kids came from, I had no idea. Three girls and a boy. The boy I'd talked to on the phone, no doubt. Henry looked just like he had eight years ago.. he was thirty five now but if you'd've asked me, he still looked like he was twenty seven. What a stud he was. Always had been, too. I remember always looking up to him.
We talked for a long time. This wasn't just my homecoming to him, it was my introduction to the kids. I'd never met any of them. Not even the two I'd known about. They must have been having such fun getting used to an entirely new family member.
Leaving was sad. We had visited our old house back in the neighborhood where dad, mom and Aubree had died. A new family had moved in, the Hajek's. That was their name. We decided not to tell them that three people had died here.. only that we had lived here once. They were very welcoming and it was refreshing to walk around inside, reliving our childhood. But the happiness ended when it was time for me to get back on that plane to go home. I'd never realized how much I missed Hen..
he was so mad about this picture.. he was complaining about how pale and short he is XD
