Chapter twelve: Holding On in The Darkness

Lucas Carter's POV

Hold on. Two simple words, yet they carry profound weight. You never truly understand their significance until they become your only lifeline.

Things are supposed to get better, or at least, amidst the growing turmoil, there's always a glimmer of hope. So you hold on, clinging desperately, hoping that one day you won't have to anymore.

"Brother?"

I set down my drink and turned to face him. The disbelief on his face mirrored my own astonishment. I couldn't believe that somehow, I managed to regain a hold on my memories. It brought relief, but it wasn't the end of the storm.

"What's on your mind, Big bro?"

"I love you," he blurted out, the words flowing effortlessly. It felt foreign yet exhilarating to witness such a display of affection.

"You're crazy," I chuckled.

Some might question the value of having a big brother. Well, the truth is, no matter how much we age, that childlike spirit within us never truly disappears.

He took a sip of his milk tea, reminding me of the days before everything spiraled out of control, when I would always ask him for a comforting cup. Who could have predicted that we would find ourselves in this situation again? Who could have believed that I would still be alive? I suppose there's an element of luck in my existence, yet I can't help but feel that luck hasn't entirely favored me.

"I just want you to know how much you mean to me," he continued, leaving me speechless. My inhibitions seemed to evaporate into thin air. "After almost losing you, I realized I shouldn't waste any more time. I never want to reach a point where I can't express my love for you."

When I say I'm broken, it extends far beyond agony and emotional scars. I struggle to grasp the reality of my situation; it's perplexing, disorienting. At times, it seems like all hope is lost, like every part of me is wounded. But in those moments, I forget. My brother makes me forget.

"Thank you," I managed to utter, although mere words could never adequately express the depth of my gratitude. He's like the border of a picture frame—holding everything together, providing the perfect space for it all.

I still carried the weight of my inability to remember certain things, and when he mentioned, "I know you still can't recall some things, including what happened to my mother," my gaze fell to the ground. "As much as I've longed for justice for her, it might be best to let go if it puts you in danger."

Doing the right thing often feels like committing a crime. It goes against our natural inclinations, requiring us to prioritize others over ourselves. In my case, I can no longer seek justice for my mother, but we must bring it to the person responsible for her death. Eliza suffered in ways that she deserved, but I couldn't bear to voice those thoughts, especially not in front of my brother.

"Big brother," I murmured, watching his eyes clouded with sadness. "I don't condone what your mother did," I spoke with utmost sincerity, and his lips parted, his eyes frozen in disbelief. "But I don't condone what happened to her either." As the weight of my words sank in, his gaze slowly lowered.

They say that stars shine brightest in the darkest of nights. Although that's not always the case. Sometimes, you need to change your perspective on the darkness itself, rather than simply searching for stars or desperately seeking a way out. It's like rearranging musical notes until you find the perfect melody. But to do that, you must first understand every note and place them in the right place.

"Son, I was only gone for a short while, but it seems you've missed me dearly," he rambled, wrapping me in a tight embrace. A rush of delight traveled up my spine, tingling down to my feet. Light may move at unimaginable speed, but darkness always lingers, patiently waiting.

"I'm sorry for everything I said, Dad," I whispered, unable to contain my overwhelming happiness and shame. I held him tightly, desperately clinging to him, realizing how much I missed him and how long it had been since I felt this way.

"It's alright now, Lucas. I'm sorry too. You'll always be my little boy, and I love you," he chuckled, perhaps suspecting that my sanity was slipping again. I grinned as I released my grip, fighting back the tears that threatened to stream down my cheeks.

"I remember you now," I declared, stepping out into the world. His grin slowly transformed into astonishment. "I don't know how it happened, but it struck me out of the blue." He stood there, struck dumb, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard.

"R-Really?" he stammered, and I nodded in confirmation. He hugged me tightly, overflowing with joy, just as my brother did. It felt like everything was finally falling into place, and it was an indescribable feeling. No words could capture its essence.

I can't pretend to understand why I had to go through what I went through. But as I navigate this journey, I've come to realize that initially, it feels like you're irreparably shattered. However, as you painstakingly piece yourself together, you start to understand why continuing on is the only viable option.

What troubles me is when you hesitate, questioning what could have possibly changed or will change, and how you'll ever find a way to live with it.

"Mom?" I sputtered, seeing her presence as I entered my room. Her smile sent shivers down my spine. I asked, taking a seat on my bed, "How did you get in here?" She sat beside me, radiating warmth.

"Don't dwell on that. By the way, you seem unusually happy today. What's happened?" Her beaming smile was infectious.

Maybe, there is more to this damage that I couldn't seem to get a handle on.

"Guess what, Mom? I remember my dad and brother now."

Deception hangs heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe. When everything's too much, how do you make it less?

"Remember? What do you mean?"

That tingling sensation creeping down my feet—it's fear, it's everywhere inside me.

"Mom, I have amnesia."

"Amnesia? That can't be true!" She babbled, and the smile on my face slowly faded as my eyes froze.

What in the world is happening here?

"Mom, you don't know?"

"What? I don't know what you're talking about, Lucas."

A lump formed in my throat, choking back my words. The taste of death revitalizes, as they say. The mysterious revels in the same waters where you would willingly drown.

"Mom? Isn't your mom dead?"

I clenched my hair tightly...

In an instant, my world flipped upside down.

...