Time Consumes Us

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It was a clear, windless night as a 1965 Chevy Impala cruised to a halt in front of the rustic iron gates. The engine stalled and then shut off as the door opened to reveal a tall boy with messy brown hair, a long box clutched in his arms. Shutting the door behind him, he walked up the sloping lawn and slowly opened the gates, careful to not let them squeak. Slipping past them, he shut it gently behind him and then silently walked down the winding path, his eyes skimming the familiar inscriptions etched onto headstones.

Soon, he got to his destination and he paused, cool blue eyes scanning the words that were engraved in his heart. Opening the box, he took out a bouquet of flowers and placed them down gently. Plopping onto the hard, cold Earth, Dash Webber gazed at the gravestone, staring at the dates of birth and death. “Hey Roman.” He said quietly. “Happy birthday.”

Dash sighed and let his fingers graze over the indented words and dates; Roman Dashiell Webber. He’d been seven years old when he died, seven years, eleven months, and twenty-nine days. Dash had spent his eighth birthday in a hospital bed, on the brink of death, not knowing that his twin brother was lying in a morgue, cold, dead, and unmoving.

Dash squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture Roman’s face. Sure, all he had to do was look at an old picture of himself but there had been something different about Roman that made the twin boys completely different. Dash had always been the quieter twin while Roman had been eccentric and loud. Roman had mostly gotten in trouble when they had been kids and Dash had been there to save his brother’s backside quite a number of times. The priceless Ming vase Roman had broken when they were six? Even though Roman had gotten punished, Dash had been there for his brother, being his companion when he had been locked in his room for two days.

Dash let his finger trace the jagged scar on his cheek, the deformity he had received because of the crash. The only imperfection that separated him from Roman as when Roman had been alive, he had two scar-less cheeks. The scar was the only reminder Dash really had of the crash. Broken bones healed and scrapes faded but every morning when Dash gazed into the mirror, he saw what whining and selfishness had done to him and his family.

“Seventeen today Rome.” He said, lying on his back and looking at the stars. “It was an alright birthday. Diana made a really nice three layer cake and had seventeen candles on there along with one on the side for good luck. Dad actually was home for the birthday too, as he missed out on our sixteenth. We went out to dinner too but we had to leave early because Woody got sick. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice but,” he sighed and focused on a single star. “It’s just weird without you Rome. It’s been ten years today that we’ve celebrated our birthday together. God, it was what 1998 when we last were together at a party?” He sighed again, remembering that their theme had been cowboys and their nanny, Rosa, had dressed them in identical cowboy outfits. There had been ponies in the back and a fake electronic bull too. It had been happier times when Dash had smiled and laughed, Roman was alive, and his family was together. "Birthdays used to be fun. Remember after Christmas, we used to start our countdown til our birthday? I swear, I looked forward to our birthday more than Christmas or Halloween."

Plucking up blades of grass, Dash brought one arm under his head and continued to talk aloud. “Remember our old nickname, Dash-n-Rome? And how everyone thought we were saying Dash in Rome?” He laughed, albeit quietly, mournfully. “Our names suck Rome. Dad and Catherine weren’t original with us.” He exhaled and brought his hood up to cover his head. “I really wish you were here. You made this world less sucky little Brother.” He remembered how Roman had hated being reminded that he was a full two minutes and thirty seconds younger than Dashiell.

We’re twins, he had proclaimed one day after Dash called him little. You’re not older than me. I’m the same age as you and we will until the day we die.

“You were wrong about that you know.” Dash called out to the empty air. “I did get older than you. I’m seventeen years old now and you’re,” he swallowed, twisting his hands. “You’re forever seven years old.” He clenched his fists in anger, feeling his self-loathing increase ten fold. “It’s not fair Rome. I shouldn’t be here right now. I should be six feet under. You should be alive, celebrating your seventeenth birthday. I shouldn’t have begged you to go to Toys R Us with me. I should have just gone. Catherine did tell me not to go but I was stupid and whined until I got my way. I should have listened to Catherine, but I didn’t. And because of that, I—I killed you.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry Roman. So very sorry.” He felt his throat start to close up but knew that no tears would come. He hadn’t cried since his brother died all those years ago.

“I should have died that night.” Dash said again, clenching his hair in frustration. “You were always the more liked brother as it was. The more favored. I was just—Dash. Nothing special, but you—there was something about you that everyone liked. You had a spark and I extinguished that spark because of greed. You were destined for great things and I ruined all those chances. Hell, I’ve ruined everything. Your life, Catherine and Dad’s marriage, I’ve even messed it up with Arianna Hollis, that girl I told you about before. I suck at this. I’m not getting anywhere, I just…I just want to give up. Sleep forever. I’m a burden to Dad. A reminder of the other son that used to be. He has another family; Diana, Leigh, and Woody. If I were to slip away, he wouldn’t notice.”

Dash fell onto his back again, gazing at the heavens. “It’s a nice night Rome. First clear night in a week. Can you see it too? I hope you can.” Dash closed his eyes, feeling the late night’s dew seeping into his hoodie. “I hope you’re happy up there Roman because it’s shit down here.” He felt the lump in his throat increase and before he lost all his chances of speaking he managed to choke out, “Happy fucking birthday Roman.”

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I dont know, this is something that popped into my head one day after school when I didn't feel like doing my Algebra 2 homework. The character Dash is from a RPG that my friend and I created.

Review please! I'd like to know what you guys thought of this (: