Dear Brother: A forbidden love story

(August 1st, 1994:

Traveling on the 121 towards Auburn;)

Sitting in the passenger seat of the two-year-old Civic sedan, Lena kept her gaze fixed on the dull, rain-soaked scenery slipping past the window. She couldn't help but wonder what she'd be doing now, had things turned out differently; if she still had her family and her home...

It was a weekend evening, just after six, so Lena would probably be upstairs, watching her mother get ready. Eve would be asking Lena's advice on what to wear, and her dad would be in the bathroom, having a shower; then they'd go out to town, while she stayed at home with her big brother, Matt; they'd watch movies together on the couch and order takeaway food when they felt too lazy to cook. Sometimes Matt would let her share his beer, making her promise not to tell their parents.

But that had all changed now; her dad wasn't there anymore; he didn't come into her bedroom after he thought she'd gone to sleep and tell her how much he loved her; mom wouldn't be there to keep her in check, telling her to clean her room and do her homework, to be nice to Matt; Matt the thought of losing him had scared her most.

Afterward, she'd felt grimly surprised to find that she missed her older brother more than anything else. He used to make her so angry and upset at times with his teasing but then he wasn't there, and she would have given anything to have him call her 'Brat' or 'Kiddo' once more; to see him start university in a few weeks or to have him tease her about being too scrawny.

"Why me?" she thought savagely. "Why did I have to survive and they all die? It shouldn't have been this way!"

The events of that night had repeated in her mind, like some tormenting slow-motion picture, replaying over and over again. She knew, no matter how much she dwelt upon it, the past couldn't be changed.

The artic' had come from nowhere; he shouldn't have even been on that road, she'd heard the policeman say; he said the guy had got lost and had to detour. He should have been traveling south away from them, on a road nearly fifteen miles away, but there he was, just split seconds away from them as Lena looked up...

Her dad was driving, her mom flicking through the radio channels while Matt and Lena argued in the back. They were on a country road, stopping for gas, before heading out onto the 89 towards New Hampshire. They were going to see a concert; some friend of their dads played saxophone in a band and had invited them all along.

Lena raised an eyebrow at her brother, whose face was all moody and sullen, his green eyes sparkling with ill-temper.

"Shut it...brat." He said calmly, though there was a tone in his voice that suggested severe irritation. His girlfriend was often a sore subject, especially of late, but Lena wanted to tease him; he'd been ignoring her for days, only acknowledging her presence by calling her 'brat'; she was angry with him for treating her like this.

"You're just mad because you and Natalie had a fight," she said with a shrug as if his bad temper wasn't upsetting her at all. Inside though, she felt hurt and wanted to cry.

"Mom, will you tell her?! She doesn't know what she's talking about." Matt exclaimed suddenly, glaring at his sister. She just narrowed her eyes at him, then turned to stare nonchalantly out the window.

Eve Harris looked over her shoulder and shook her head in despair. "Oh Matthew..." she sighed, "you're twenty-one years old...don't be so childish. Besides, Lena's right...you do take it out on us whenever you're having a bad day." She said, in a tone that suggested kindness mixed with a sharp twist of dire warning.

Matt looked outraged for a moment, but his manners wouldn't allow him to answer his mother with spite and his intelligence knew better than to try it.

"I didn't know I did..." he said, knowing, deep down, that his mother was right; she always was. Lowering his gaze to his knees, he muttered. "Sorry." His mother nodded and turned her attention back to the front.

Matt looked over at his little sister and realized then, that there were tears in her eyes. Her hair fell across her face, the golden brown color of a dormouse. She was far too skinny to look like a healthy kid. Her arms were folded and her green eyes were etched into an angry, indifferent scowl. He knew her well enough to know what that meant; he'd hurt her and she was trying not to cry.

Shit...he hadn't meant to do that, he just really didn't want to talk about Natalie; his girlfriend of four months was by no means a virgin; she was only a year younger than him and she'd slept with half of his friends at college, yet she still hadn't slept with him; it was driving him mad! He couldn't exactly explain to his twelve-year-old sister that the reason he'd been moody was that he hadn't had sex in four months, could he?! Thankfully, sexual frustration wasn't something Lena would understand.

He made himself a mental note, reminding himself not to shut her out and that it wasn't her fault. He leaned over and poked her playfully in the rib, making her wriggle and laugh. It was nice to see her smile at him again. Matt saw his mother shake her head in the front seat.

"Sorry, kiddo." He said softly. "I guess I'm a bit grouchy lately, huh?"

Lena looked over at him and smiled. "That's the understatement of the millennia." She grinned mischievously and Matt began to tickle her for being so cheeky. He couldn't help but think what a great girl she'd be when she got older; a girl with half her charm or intelligence would have it made and add that together with her good looks and wit...well, he hated to think what she'd be like. He knew he'd have to keep her indoors, away from all men, until she was thirty...at least. And even then he might want to interview each man that looked in her direction.

Eve returned her attention to tuning the radio, while Matt and Lena continued to play fight. Her husband, Jimmy, was telling her of the time he and his friend were caught smoking pot in their college dorms. "We didn't even consider the smoke detectors. The whole building had to be evacuated because they thought there was a fire..." he was saying.

They came to a junction. Lena managed to jab Matt in the stomach and he rolled over, appearing to be in agony. Lena jabbed him again, knowing this to be one of Matt's little tricks to make her think she'd really hurt him. He laughed and began to tickle her again. As her father pulled away, her eyes flickered to the window over Matt's shoulder and there it was, like a cargo ship coming into harbor far too fast; the huge 18-wheeler came roaring down the road towards their emerging vehicle. There was no time to speak and nothing that could have been done if there was.

The last thing Lena remembered before the collision was Matt's face; his blue eyes were full of laughter as he looked up at her, then they'd darkened as he'd met her eyes and his skin paled to see her horrified expression; he knew they were about to die; his instinct told him that.

Numb with shock, Lena had leaped towards him as far as she could and he'd done the same to her. She buried her face into the warmth of his chest. Just as she felt his arms pull her close and his body moves over her, to protect her, she felt the truck hit the car and her world was slammed into impenetrable darkness. She knew then that her life was over.

Three weeks later, she'd woken from her coma in hospital, strapped to all kinds of tubes and machines, uncertain of her name or how she'd come to be there. She could hear a voice, echoing from her dreams, pleading with her to open her eyes; "Come on kiddo, please...you gotta wake up...these doctors want to help you...I love you, Lena, please wake up..."

But whoever it was wasn't here now. She was alone in that cold hospital and it seemed so dark and eerie, like a graveyard. She thought how hospitals, ironically, were kind of like graveyards, except that there was no frantic bleeping there.

What was that bleeping anyway? She tried to move her head to have to look, but as soon as did, searing, hot pain shot through her like a blade. At the same time, quite suddenly, she remembered who she was and why she was here and the pain of it was more intense than anything she felt physically.

The doctor had come rushing into the room at that point, followed by a dark-haired nurse. He was a tall man with thin, grey-streaked hair; she was shorter, with tear-stained cheeks and large, dark eyes. She'd obviously been crying.

"Glad to see you're awake...we weren't sure if you'd come through." The man said, approaching her bed. "I'm Dr. Taylor and this is your nurse, Heather Jansen. Can you tell me how you're feeling honey?"

Lena looked him in the eyes and opened her mouth to speak. "W-where..." her voice was dry and painful; "Where are my family?" she managed. She could barely speak, but she didn't care; she needed answers...

She realized the voice from her dreams was Matt's; no one else called her 'kiddo' as he did. But she also knew that hearing voices in her head was never a good sign; she was sure it could mean only one thing...

Dr. Taylor exchanged a glance with the nurse, whose eyes were pricked with tears. He felt bad having to tell the girl, especially after just coming round from her ordeal. He'd have preferred her to rest a while before getting herself upset, but it seemed it was too late for that. He saw her eyes glaze over as she stared up at him.

"They're dead, aren't they?" she said, her voice cold and hollow. He'd heard that tone so many times before, but this was the hardest so far. The kid was just twelve for Christ's sake; barely a year older than his youngest daughter.

"I'm so sorry honey...there wasn't anything we could do," he said softly, trying not to choke up.

Lena just nodded and looked away, unable to speak. She'd known from the moment she saw the truck that they were all going to die, but finding herself alive like this had given her the slightest flicker of hope; perhaps, if they saved me, they saved them too, she thought. Perhaps this was all just a horrific nightmare and she'd soon wake up in the back seat, her head resting on her brother's shoulder, as dad drove to the concert in New Hampshire. She wished the nurse and doctor would leave her alone, so she could wake up from her nightmare. But she knew that it wasn't going to happen like that. You couldn't wake up from reality.

"Honey, I've gotta ask you a few things, do you mind? I just need to check your ok and that your memory's not been affected." Dr. Taylor asked.

Lena nodded. The doctor pulled out a torch and told her he had to check her eyes, while Nurse Jansen dabbed her cheeks with the back of her hand. Lena watched her walk to the end of the bed and pull out a file, where she began to record information from the screen above Lena's head.

"Hmm, ok, that's alright...can you tell me your name and date of birth honey?" The doctor asked.

"Yeah; Lena...Lena Marie Harris...May 23rd, 1982." She managed to say.

"That's great. Really great." He said, smiling brightly. Lena couldn't really understand his enthusiasm at the time, but she later realized now how unaffected she was by her coma. "Do you have pain anywhere?" Dr. Taylor asked.

Lena tried to nod and experienced blinding pains in her head and neck. She'd noticed it hurt most when she tried to move her head or left leg and tried to explain that to the doctor, though her words were choked and mumbled.

He nodded his understanding and sat down in the seat beside her to try and explain. "You've broken your lower leg in three places and taken a nasty blow to the head. You'll feel pretty sore for a while, I'm afraid, but you'll be ok. We'll look after you." He said. He paused, as though unsure of whether to continue. "The paramedic said he didn't think you'd have survived at all, had your brother not been protecting you. It seems he saved your life."

Lena had thought how strange it sounded to have someone say that to her; it was like those heroic stories you read in the paper, where someone saves someone else's life, and then there they are, smiling up at you from the front page of the morning news with the great story they have to tell. But that wasn't like this; things weren't alright; her hero had died and nothing was ever going to be alright again.

Lena had turned her gaze away and resolutely stared into the corners of her vision, where things weren't so cold and certain. After some moments, where she felt the doctor and Nurse Jansen exchange knowing looks, they both stood up and left the room. The Nurse had squeezed her hand before she left and said in a tiny voice; "I'm so sorry Lena...so very, very sorry."

Lena stayed unmoving until she heard the door close and their footsteps recede. Then she'd quaked and burst into tears, causing herself intense head pains, but she didn't care. She could barely feel it when compared to the aching inside. She slowly managed to lift her arms and wipe away her tears with shaking fingers.

Just then, a voice filled the room, seeming to come from somewhere behind her head, but Lena couldn't turn towards him. "Don't cry kiddo...I'm coming to see you soon, I promise...just hold on a while longer. You just go to sleep, huh?"

Without trying to understand, she trusted her brother's words and closed her eyes. she so wanted to sleep now. In the darkroom, Lena whispered; "I love you, Matt." And then fell asleep. Just before she gave in to the dark, she was sure she felt a hand brush against hers.

"I love you too kiddo." Matt sighed.

(September 22nd, 1994)

Lena trembled as she looked up, sickness creeping into her stomach. She didn't want to go in, didn't want to accept that this was her new school now. Her old school was so much better, with its deep red brickwork and long green lawns. This place was too big and uninviting. Smooth grey pathways led between sculpted grounds of bark chippings and prim box hedges, up to the large, sweeping steps at the school's entrance. Huge windows loomed over them from a blank, white-washed exterior, looking out over the hordes of students arriving in the early morning sunshine. Lena felt like it might swallow her whole.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and looked up into her foster brother's gentle, slate-blue eyes. He smiled down at her and Lena blushed, her head in a jumble of emotions. She wanted to run away, from the school, from her foster brother, from every part of this new life she was meant to be leading since her family's death. The other part of her wanted to curl up in his arms and cry until she could cry no more.

Her foster brother knelt at her side. "Don't be scared, Lena." He said softly. "They're really nice here, I promise."

Kristopher Alden was twenty-three, tall and devastatingly handsome, which, even at twelve, Lena hadn't failed to notice. He was kind and gentle with her, not pushing her to talk if she didn't want to, not forcing her to do anything. He told her jokes to make her laugh and stories about his life with their foster parents Bill and Maggie Howard. At those times, Lena forgot her pain, at least for a little while.

Nodding feebly, Lena took a breath and resigned herself to her first day at this strange new school.

The school bell sounded, loud and shrill, across the grounds of St.Mary's. Kit knelt at Lena's side and assured her that everything was going to be ok. He knew exactly how she felt and it hurt that he couldn't take away her pain and confusion. She didn't deserve any of this...but then again, who did?

"Want me to walk you to the door?" he asked her. He knew she'd say no, but had to ask, just in case.

Lena shook her head. "No...I can do it by myself." She said, her voice a mix of fear and pride. He smiled inwardly. He knew she didn't mean anything nasty by her words; from the moment she'd first arrived, she'd said things that sounded rude and spiteful, but her heart just wasn't in it.

She swallowed and brushed his eyes with her gaze. She didn't move. "Go...it's alright." He encouraged, standing up to his full height. Lena shot him a sharp look, as if to say 'how do you know?!', then she blushed, checked herself, and offered him a faint smile.

He smiled back, gave her a cheeky wink, and watched her as she slowly walked away, towards the school. She got ten paces away before turning and running back to him at full speed. She threw herself at him and swung her arms around his waist, hugging him for the first time. Kit was surprised but soon caught himself and held her close. He knelt down to her level, looking into her teary eyes, and wanted to take her home, but he knew he couldn't. She had to face it eventually.

"Don't worry, ok? I'm gonna be in town all day, so if you need me, I won't be too far away. If you get scared or want to talk to me, go and ask Miss Jennings...she's the red-haired lady at reception...just tell her who you are and that you'd like to speak with me, and she'll let you call, ok? She's my friend."

Lena fought back tears and nodded. "Ok." She muttered. "What time are you coming to get me?"

"Maggie's coming to fetch you later; at three-thirty...Bill and I have got to go see a man from out of town. We'll be back at the house about six."

"Why can't Maggie go with Bill and you come and fetch me?" she asked.

Kit smiled. "Because, pretty lady, we've got a surprise for you, but Bill and I have got to go out and get it."

Lena's gasped, her eyes lighting up. "You've got me a present?" she asked.

Kit just grinned. "Maybe. Now go...I'm gonna get into trouble if you're late."

Lena smiled and went to leave, then quickly turned, hugged him, and ran away towards the school, her worries forgotten...at least for now.

Sighing, Kit watched her disappear into the school and turned back to his car which was parked a few feet away. Not surprisingly, a young man with golden-brown hair and blue eyes stood leaning against it, his whole body tense as he watched Lena leave.

"She likes you." It sounded more like an accusation than an observation, but Kit knew, as his little sister, that Matt didn't mean it in that way.

Kit didn't offer him a reply, just held his gaze and stepped past him. He climbed into his car and started the engine. As he pulled away, Matt appeared in his passenger seat and glared fiercely at the side of Kit's face.

"I hate it when you do that." He said, knotting his brows together and glaring at his own feet.

"I can't talk to you in the street Matt; no-one can see you...d'you know what they do to people who have conversations with thin air...they ship them off to the loony bin, is what." Kit pointed out.

"I'm just sick of this. When I met you...when I first died...I asked you why I'd come back and not my parents...and you said it was because of the connection I and Lena shared...you said that soon she'd be able to see me and feel me in the air, that I could talk to her and stuff...but...but she can't! It's been over a month now Kit! I can't just wander around forever! It's driving me insane!"

"It won't always be like this...I promise you...but you gotta understand it from Lena's point of view. She can't see you because she's torn up inside...it's like...it's like..." Kit searched around for something to relate to.

"The stars..." he said, waving one hand at the sky. "The stars are always there, aren't they? But we can't always see them Matt...no matter how much we might want to, sometimes there's just too many clouds, you know?" Kit hated to talk like this, but sometimes the only way to get a message across was to put it in a way that could be easily understood.

"That's what it's like for Lena...she won't be able to see you until the clouds pass and the only way to help her is to make her feel good. You've gotta send her good thoughts Matt, not ones of loss and anger." Kit told him.

The silence fell as Matt thought this over, his brow still tightly knotted and his jaw clenched. Finally, Kit felt him relax and saw Matt turn his head to the window. "There was a time...when she was in hospital...that...I thought maybe...maybe she felt me there..." Matt said quietly as if doubting his own thoughts.

Kit turned off onto the long country road that led up past their house and out into the sticks. He pulled up at the side of the road, switched the engine off, and turned to his friend, knowing that when he got home they'd have no chance to talk. At least, not without Maggie and Bill thought he'd gone mad.

"Tell me what happened..." Kit said.

Matt clenched his teeth several times, making the muscle in his jaw pulsed. He seemed to do this whenever he was in deep thought.

"It was after I first met you. I was in the hospital, trying to get a grip on...on being dead." Matt held a certain tone in his voice and Kit knew what he was thinking; 'how do you get a grip on being dead?' "I'd been there for weeks," Matt continued, speaking slowly as if replaying it over in his head. "I just watched her lying there...all limp and broken...I'd been asking her to wake up, that everything was going to be ok and...telling her that I love her." Matt glanced up and smiled in remembrance. "I was so happy when she finally opened her eyes. She was drowsy from the painkillers, but she was still pretty sharp....she still gave the doctors a few of her evil glares..." They both laughed softly, knowing that glare all too well.

Matt hardened quite suddenly as he glanced at Kit. "After the doctors had gone and she was alone, she started to cry...so I told her to hush...that I'd be there soon...that ..."

Matt went silent, lost in his own thoughts as he stared at some insignificant point near his feet. Kit leaned back in his seat and let him have a moment before speaking. "Then what...?" he asked.

"Then...she seemed to try...to try and...turn towards me, but she couldn't...then...then she said...'I love you, Matt'. I know she knew it was me, that was there...even when I touched her hand, I felt her react to it....like she could feel it...but then she went to sleep and...it hasn't happened since."

Kit nodded, thinking it over. "You were happy at the time, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I was glad she'd woken up," Matt repeated.

"Well...I'm guessing, because of the drugs they'd given her...added to your happiness...I'm guessing that she did feel you, probably would have seen you had she been able to..." Kit spoke his thoughts aloud.

"But why hasn't that happened again?" Matt asked. "What if I disappear or something before she gets to see me?"

"You won't. It doesn't happen like that. Because you were touching each other when you died, your soul has kinda...fused with Lena's. The only way that connection can be broken is if Lena died too...then you'd both pass over together." Kit explained.

He'd told Matt all this before, but he knew how hard it was for people to understand what was to come. He didn't even know himself.

"Look, you've got to have patience, Matt, it's the only way. I know it's hard and I know you hate me for not being able to give you all the answers, but I just can't. There are no rules and even if there were, I'm not the one who makes them. I can help, but you have to have patience. When the times are right, I'll talk to Lena. I'll help her to open up to you, but right now, she can't. Just give her love, Matt, and keep telling her everything's going to be alright and it will be...for both of you."

Matt gave no answer, just sat in silence, still staring out the window. The sky was darkening, threatening rain. Kit hoped it would only be a small shower; he had work to do and he'd rather not be doing it in a storm.

"I'm gonna go back to the barn...I'll see you there," Matt said. He'd been staying in the barn for the past couple of months. It was a place where he could have privacy and shelter from the rain. Although people often believed that ghosts were unfeeling, this wasn't actually the case. They could still feel and be affected, could still cry and be hurt. They just couldn't be seen or felt by most living souls.

Kit nodded and watched Matt disappear into nothingness, as though he were some figment of Kit's imagination. When he first started to see ghosts, that's exactly what he thought they were. He thought he was going crazy.

Kit still remembered the day it all began; it was two week after his mother's murder. He was just eight years old, starving and sick on the city streets, hanging in the void between life and death.

He remembered what had put him there, without food or shelter. He would never forget what his step-father had done.