Into The Mist

It was a foggy winter morning. 13-year-old Michael sat on the steps in front of his house with his brother Peter, who was four years older than him. It was six in the morning and both the boys were wrapped in thick sweaters. Everybody else in their house was sleeping. The brothers had this habit of getting up extremely early and at this time every day, they would share their problems, crack jokes or just sit in companionable silence.

That day, Peter was helping his younger brother with math sums. “It is easy, believe me”, said Peter. “Just concentrate and you will get it right.” “That is for you to say”, grumbled Michael. “See, this is just like the sum that we finished. The question is written in a different form, that’s it, Mike.” With some difficulty, and of course because of the gentle persuading by Peter, Michael finally finished his homework that had to be submitted that very day.

“So, tell me,” began Peter “what’s new? Anything interesting at school?” “Nah”, said Michael, “just the usual stuff. Sticking chewing gum on Mr. Williams’ chair, singing out all our doubts in the music class, filling Mrs. Brown’s cupboard with ping-pong balls and well, you know.” “I bet the last one got you a week’s detention”, said Peter, laughing heartily. Michael joined in. Soon, both of them were rolling about with laughter, without any reason, unable to stop. Michael loved such mornings, when everything seemed perfect.

“Mike! You coming?” This was Michael’s classmate and neighbor, John. They used to walk together to school every morning. “Yeah”, replied Michael. “just give me a minute”. He was just saying goodbye to Peter, when John said, “What is taking you so long? And… whom are you talking to?” Michael was puzzled. “I was talking to Peter, John. What is wrong with you?”, he said.

John’s expression softened. He said, “Mike, you better accept this now. Your brother Peter passed away in that car accident last year. He is dead.”

Michael’s world shattered. He said furiously, “How dare you say Peter is dead! He is beside me, we were talking, he was helping me with math…” Michael stopped because Peter was no longer there beside him. Still wanting to prove himself right, he said, “He is around here somewhere, playing one of his pranks. Pete, come out, will you? Show John that you are not dead. Pete…Pete, where are you?” Michael had begun to sound more and more desperate because he knew that John was right, that Peter was never coming back. Michael finally sat down on the grass, his head in hands, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. “It is as if he has disappeared into the mist”, he finally managed, between sobs.

“Yeah, he has”, whispered John softly, in a sad tone. “Forever.”