Tim lifted the paper wrapped bottle to his lips taking a deep swig. Smacking them together as he swallowed the fiery contents. He was sitting on a park bench while people ignored his existence. Just another drunk in the park, given only a passing side eye. And he ignored them and continued to take swig after swig from his bottle until it was drained.
He eyed the empty bottle sadly and tossed it towards the trashcan. He exhaled, his breath smelling like cheap booze, and stared into the sky. Wondering how his life had spiraled so out of control. His musings were interrupted by the joyous sound of laughter and his gaze was drawn back downwards.
A few children were playing a game of tag in the nearby playground. He watched them intensely as they giggled and tagged each other. The runners occasionally froze and unfroze their friends. His expression softened and tears tugged at the corner of his eyes
She would have been just about their age now…
Lilly was an unexpected, but not unwelcome, surprise. He was at university working on his masters degree when he got the news. His parents had called him excited and given him the great news. He was in a university two states over, so he only returned home during semester breaks and holidays.
For Christmas that year they got him a sweater that said “world's greatest older brother.” After her death he put that one in his closet. It hurt too much to wear but getting rid of it felt like erasing her memory. She was born during his summer break and he spent as much time with her as he could. Everyone doted on the small girl, including him. Even when he returned to school he came home every other weekend.
For a time, she was just like any other healthy baby. Up until her second birthday, it started small. She slept more than normal and seemed to fatigue quicker than other children. Despite seeing a myriad of doctors and specialists they couldn’t find any explanation for her malady.
On her third birthday, they had a grand party, and the small girl was all smiles and giggles. Eagerly chatting away, babbling happily about whatever was on her mind. Her vocabulary had expanded quickly and steadily.
After he passed his finals he decided to take some time off to help his parents take care of her. The family was worried about her health at this point. She had gotten progressively words until one day he found her unresponsive. She had been playing with her toys, but didn't respond when he called her. She spent the next few days at the hospital, but they still couldn’t identify what was wrong. Eventually she was well enough to leave and they continued taking her for tests.
Some days it seemed like she was getting better but it was always followed by a dip. Shortly before her fourth birthday she ended up back in the hospital, and stayed there until she passed away a few months later. Even until the day of her passing, she still was happy and smiling.
The strength she displayed in the face of something so daunting inspired him. But her death broke him, shaking his faith in modern medicine. Her final words were the only thing that kept him from falling into the pits of despair. Even while on the verge of death, she only wanted him to be happy.
He threw himself into his studies after that. Working twice as hard, and devoting himself to defeating the illness that killed his sister. With a doctorate in hand he found a company that was researching his sister's case. More children had begun displaying similar symptoms to hers.
That was nearly six years ago. Six years to a week ago when he was fired as part of a restructuring. The people who bought the company he worked for decided to pivot away from research to making high profit drugs. Six years of dedicated work and they fired him for corporate greed.
So here he sat, despondent and forlorn, convinced that the world was actively working against him. Keeping him from saving people, from solving this mysterious illness. With a sigh, he stood up and tossed the empty beer he had been drinking, still wrapped in the paper bag, into the trash and stumbled home.
*****
Someone had stuffed his mouth with cotton, and now they were banging loudly on the walls. He wished whoever it was would put the hammer down and let him sleep.
“Hey I know you’re home lil bro, open up,” his older brother Stephan yelled as he banged on the door of his apartment.
Stumbling out of bed, he staggered to the front door just in time to hear the lock click and the door swing inwards as his brother aggressively pushed it open. He winced as his brother's intense gaze fell over him. From his disheveled hair, five o clock shadow, unkempt appearance, and dirty clothes. His brother was nearly a foot taller than him. With dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Yea, that's about what I expected. Let's go,” his brother said, hefting him up and tossing him over his shoulder like an old sack before carrying him out the door. And into the elevator, while ignoring his brother's protests. Once the elevator arrived in the garage he walked to his car and put his brother in the passenger seat before turning around and going back. Ten minutes later he came down with a suitcase and shoved it in the trunk.
“I could've walked,” he said petulantly, crossing his arms and pouting. “What's this all about?”
“You’re going to mom’s place. This isn’t healthy.”
“That's not necessary,” he grumbled in annoyance.
“Timothy, I saw your apartment. You can't keep living like this.”
He winced at his name, he had always disliked it, especially the long version. His family only ever used it when they were trying to make a point or to chastise him. He had considered changing it, but nothing he ever came up with felt right. His siblings' names seemed to fit them just fine, just not his own.
Stephan was right, he hadn’t been taking care of himself lately, and his apartment had certainly reflected that. It was filled with takeout trash, empty beer cans, and dirty clothes. He had a decent savings, not having much to actually spend his earnings on, but he was blowing through it alarmingly fast.
“I know things are hard, and it seems like there's no hope. But things will work out, and we’re here to help you, Tim,” his brother said. “You remember your promise?”
“I do,” he said softly.
“Then you can't let this get you down. I know how hard you work, how strong you are. You’ll bounce back and find somewhere that’ll let you continue your work.”
“It doesn't feel like it,” he said. “Did you know that more people are coming down with the same condition she had? More children…”
“That’s even more reason not to give up. But you can’t help anyone like this.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he cried hoarsely, his eyes glistening with tears. “I know it very well. But what can I do? I try so hard, but everything is working against me. I try so hard, and ask for so little. All I want to do is help people. Why is that so hard? Why are people so nasty…?”
“This world sucks, little bro. People like you are the minority. The world isn't working against you, most people are simply apathetic.”
“I know that.”
“I have faith in you,” he said with a reassuring smile.
Hope, faith, words that he used to hold dear. Words that he still wanted to believe in. Ones he needed to believe in. The pair of them fell into a wistful silence while he gazed out the window. It had been a few years since he had spent more than an afternoon with his parents. He had devoted himself to research, often staying overnight at the lab.
“Mom’s been talking about getting you to visit for a while. She's going to offer to let you stay, and I think you should accept. Spending some time with family will help you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
It only took just over an hour to arrive. They lived in the suburbs, just outside the city of Metropia. His mom was a nurse for many years, and his father owned a successful car dealership. They owned a nice house, and he had grown up in comfort.
After his brother pulled into their parents driveway and put the car in park. He climbed out and went to the trunk to gather his things, but was preempted by his brother who said he'd get them for him. Shrugging he walked up to the door, which flew open as his mom ran out and hugged him.
“Oh, my little Timmy,” she said, holding him tightly.
“Mom, I'm thirty-four.”
“You’ll always be my little boy,” she said, kissing his cheek as she led him inside. He always hated being treated like a little boy. “Speaking of, when are you going to get a girlfriend?”
“I'm busy Mom, I don't have time to date.”
“You were busy, sweetie. Now that you’ve been forced out, you should take some time to find yourself.”
He knew she was probably right, but romance, dating, sex… He’d never really felt right in his clumsy attempts at romance. It wasn't until he reached university that he had even put any effort into dating; even though his heart wasn't really in it. He hadn’t even kissed a girl. He didn’t even know if he was into girls. Though, he knew for sure he wasn’t into boys.
“Timothy?”
“Huh, sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you had eaten anything yet.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Okay. Let's get you cleaned up first. Stephan,” she turned to her other son, who was presently dragging his brother's luggage onto the porch. “Set Timmy’s bag down in the laundry room. I'll start washing his clothes in a moment.”
“You don't need to do that mom, I can wash my own clothes.”
“Shush. Today is about making you comfortable. Let me show you where you’ll be staying. Once you're in the shower I'll make you something small to tide you over until dinner.”
She took his arm and led him upstairs to his old room. When she opened the door, it was as if he had traveled back in time. Spaces outside of time can often feel creepy and unnerving. But this was different, it was like a monument to him as a person.
It was exactly like he left it, flooding him with memories. Time spent studying, reading, hanging out with friends. The first twenty years of his life were spent mostly in this room, which was a strange thought.
“It's exactly the same…”
“After you moved out we didn’t really need the space for anything. So we left it alone.”
His twin size bed still had his ocean blue fuzzy throw, posters of various heroines and anime characters hung from the walls. He was always partial to strong female characters, who always seemed to have more personality than their male counterparts.
Against the wall sat his old desk, its well-worn surface reminding him of nights spent studying for exams, staring at the stars through the window as his mind worked through difficult problems. His idle doodles still marred its surface. A bookcase full of his old textbooks, a dresser full of old clothes that still mostly fit. A record of his life.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need me sweetie,” his mom said, kissing him on the cheek.
After fondly reminiscing, he opened a drawer and grabbed his old favorite pajamas. A pair of pastel blue soft shorts and shirt, his favorite color. He left them behind when he moved into the dorms at his university. Making his way to the bathroom, he doffed his clothes, wrinkling his nose at his ripeness.
While the shower warmed up he looked at the full length mirror on the back of the door. People had always called him handsome, but he never really felt that way. Truthfully, he didn't really like his appearance. Something felt fundamentally wrong, but he never could figure out exactly what.
Hopping into the shower, he mechanically cleaned himself. Grabbing the lavender bath wash, he lathered up a sponge and scrubbed his body. It was his favorite smell and always reminded him of his mother. He stopped using it when some guys commented on it at school. Standing under the shower he savored the feeling of the water splashing on his head for the first time in a while.
Once he felt clean, he dried off and got dressed. Wrapped up in his old pajamas, which fit amazingly well still despite the passage of time, he took a razor to his face. Beards were something he especially despised – they were scratchy and irritating. Once satisfied with his appearance, at least as much as was possible, he left the bathroom.
“There he is,” his brother said as he sat down at the table.
“All nice and clean,” his mom said with a nod, setting a plate of sandwiches in front of him. “Sweetie, I hope you know that your father and I love you and want you to stay here until you're feeling better.”
“What about my apartment?”
“You said your lease is up soon right, lil bro?”
“Yes, at the end of next month,” he nodded, taking a bite of a sandwich. Ham and cheese with lettuce, his favorite.
“Can you cover next month's rent sweetie?”
“I have enough left in my savings.”
“Then let us help you.”
“Mom … I couldn’t possibly bother you,” he said softly, tears threatening to come to his eyes.
“Sweetheart, we have more than enough money. Let us help you,” she pleaded.
“Fine,” he relented. “Where’s dad?”
“Work,” she said, accepting the change in topic. Once her mind was set on something, it was nearly impossible to change it. She used that with great effect when he was bullied in school. Fighting her way all the way to the superintendent on his behalf. “He'll be back soon.”
“Dad’s still working?” he said with surprise. “I thought he retired?”
“Semi-retired, he only goes in a couple of days a month now. You know your father, he always needs to make sure things are done the right way.”
The three of them fell into a companionable silence. It felt just like the old days, when he was young and they would sit around the table. Back when he was happier and the world was so much simpler. It was right around puberty that he started feeling moody and depressed. Something he associated with the increased hormones, but it never truly went away.
“I think I'm gonna nap,” he said. Now that his stomach felt better he was getting tired.
“Ok, sweetie, I’ll wake you for dinner.”
“Thanks, mom, love you.”
“Love you too, pumpkin.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.
He stood up, gave his mom a hug and kiss and went back to his room. The bed was calling to him. His old bed, old blankets, and even his old plush. Everything was right where it belonged. Climbing into bed, he grabbed his plush, Skie. She was a sky blue fox, custom-made for him by his mother's friend. He’d regretted leaving her behind, but felt it was weird for a man in his twenties to have stuffed animals.
Holding Skie tight to his chest, his eyes grew misty as he began to silently cry. Being in his old room was a familiar homely feeling but it reminded him of his sister. His tears were absorbed by the soft fur of Skie.
After Lilly was born he gifted her Skie. She spent the entirety of her short life with it. He wept, for the lost years, the birthdays, watching her grow up, doting on her, supporting her when things didn't quite go right. All things robbed from them by cruel fate. He cried, his tears and exhaustion making him fall asleep. His dreams were filled with memories of his sister.
“Big brother?” she said weakly. She had many tubes attached to her; they were the only thing sustaining her life.
“Yes, Lilly?” he said, struggling to contain his grief.
“How come you only smile for me?”
“Do I?”
She nodded and he continued.
“I guess it's because of how cute you are.”
“Big brother.”
“Yes?”
“I hope you can be happy someday. I like your smile, it's pretty,” she said, her eyes closing. “Please be happy, big … si…”
He watched as she fell unconscious, her small chest barely rising and falling. Her breath was shallow and rough. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.
She died several days later.
Heartbreaking ?
Excited to see where you take it ^^
There's a lot of ups and downs. But in general it's going to be a more positive than negative story.
I’m legit crying rn
Also Lilly knew didn’t she 
Woww sad
Noooooo...
Now Im crying.
Me too, I didn't originally have this be her motivation but as iris changed through the later chapters I went back and changed her story.