|COMP∆SS|

Josiah and I were in the back seat of my father's truck again, this time at a later date.

"When did this memory happen?" I asked Josiah.

"Two months and six days after the last one." He answered simply. "You'll be seven in a few more months."

I studied my surroundings, especially my father. He was alone in the vehicle, except for a vase full of bright red roses.

He drove frantically. Though his increasing speed, he didn't seem to be interested in the road, or his driving. Instead, he dialed a number on his ancient looking cell phone.

Almost immediately after putting the phone to his ear, he cut it off and threw it in the passenger seat.

His hand drummed on his leg in a nervous tick, then he brought it to his face to rub his temples.

Suddenly, his hand searched the seat for his phone. When he found it, he redialed the same number. This time, he allowed the call to go through.

"Dad?" He asked the person on the other end.

"She's getting worse, I don't know what to do..."

I wish I could hear both sides of the conversation. I have no idea what he's talking about.

"I got home at two yesterday afternoon, and she was knocked out in the bedroom. She had taken some sleeping pills in the middle of the day... She didn't even take the twins to school. I found them trying to make macaroni in the oven."

I could only faintly hear his father's response.

"She doesn't want to go to the therapist, I suggested it last night."

The truck's tire fell off the edge of the road, and he jerked it back over. "If I do take her, what will I do with the kids? I have to work... Therapists and babysitters cost money.."

"You live so far away dad... And I don't want to leave her." He paused, I think to gather his voice. His gaze fell briefly on the bouquet of roses. "I still love her, she just needs help, she can get better."

My father seemed to be almost in tears.

"I know, I know. I'll call them once I get to work. Thanks dad."

He hung up the phone, and tossed it aside.

I looked over to Josiah for him to clarify. "I'll just have to show you." He said.

He took my hands, and we were sitting on a couch in a bedroom.

"Who's room is this?" I asked.

"Your parents. This is the night of the previous memory." He answered. His eyes were focused on the family photo above the bed, but I don't think that's what he was really thinking about.

The family in the picture seemed happy and normal, but I'm beginning to think that things aren't so normal in my family.

After a few minutes of silence, I looked up to Josiah's face. He was still in deep thought about something, but I can't figure out if it's a happy or a sad thought. He is so good at disguising his feelings. Maybe he doesn't have any...

"What are we doing here?" I finally asked.

"Just be patient." He returned.

Just as he said it, the door swung open. My mother stalked into the room, and plopped down on the bed. Her hand dug around in the drawer of the bedside table, finally locating a pill container. I couldn't see how many she dumped into her hand, but she shoveled all of them into her mouth. After that, she curled up under the blanket.

I glanced out the window beside me. It was still daylight out. Cars drove by, a person was walking their dog, a kid was playing in the yard across the street... Why was she laying down so early?

"Where is Baylor and little me?" I asked Josiah.

"Let's go find them." He answered, getting to his feet. "The part of the memory you need to see will happen soon."

We walked out of a screen door right outside my parents room, and onto a screened in back porch. Laughter was audible as soon as we stepped out.

A tree house was sitting in one of the larger trees in the back yard, and Baylor climbed up the ladder leading to its entrance.

Harley's head hung out of the side window, watching him. Her long, stringy curls swung loosely from the window sill.

"Ma'am, I am the police." Baylor said in a forced deep voice.

Harley laughed, and ducked out of the window. They're obviously playing pretend.

I ran towards the ladder to join them. I wanted to have at least one piece of my childhood back, and besides, how cool is it to hang out with the six year old version of yourself?

I squeezed through the tiny door even though I didn't have to, and sat down in a small chair next to a table.

Harley seemed to be hiding from Baylor, "the police".

He knocked on the now closed door. "Ma'am, if you don't open up, I'll have to come in and arrest you." He said again.

Harley was crouched in the corner with her hands over her mouth. Muffled giggles fought their way through.

"Alright, I guess you want to go to jail." The tiny police officer called. He swung the door open, quickly locating the poorly hidden Harley.

She screamed and jumped to her feet. As he was getting his plastic hand cuffs ready, Harley made her way down the wooden ladder.

He finally headed out after her. I waited for him to make it out the door before I followed them.

Suddenly, a scream replaced the childish laughter.

The first thing I saw was Harley across the lawn with both hands cupped around her mouth. Then, my eyes fell on Josiah. His hands were tucked away in his hoodie pockets, and he was staring at the ground below the ladder.

I slowly followed his line of sight, finally settling on my twin brothers broken body.

My heart dropped. "Josiah, help him!" I screamed.

His eyes looked up at me, but he didn't move.

I jumped down to the ground, landing next to Baylor.

His eyes were closed, and his body was folded over onto the left side. I couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

Harley screamed out Baylor's name. He didn't respond to her calls.

She took off towards our parents bedroom, and I followed after her, leaving Josiah with Baylor.

The screen door slammed behind us, echoing through the house. "Mommy, mommy!" Harley yelled.

She was shaking our mothers unconscious body. "Mommy wake up! Baylor's hurt!" She called into her mother's ear. She didn't seem to be awake at all.

I ran back out to my brother. Josiah sat next to him now, studying him.

"Did you know this would happen?!" I asked him. I could feel my throat closing up.

He looked up. "Yes." Was all he said.

His quick and simple answer took me by surprise. "Why did you show me this? You know I can't do anything except sit here and watch him die!" I yelled. I couldn't control my words.

"Harley, he'll be okay." Josiah said calmly. "Your father will be here soon."

I sat down in the grass next to him. I know I can trust him, I'm pretty sure Josiah knows everything.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to calm myself. Then, I tried to reassess the situation even though it would do no good.

Baylor's face was pale, making the freckles on his nose more noticeable. I did notice his chest slowly rising and falling, so he was alive. Which technically I knew he would live already, otherwise I wouldn't have memories of grown up Baylor.

"He only has a broken arm. He was lucky. If he would have fallen from one step up, the pressure of the fall would have caused his spine to break. If he would have fallen from one more step down, he would be conscious during all of this."

I considered Josiah's words carefully. As bad as this is, I could  imagine how much worse it would be to see Baylor in pain. I don't think I could handle that.

Harley ran back out now. I noticed my mother was not behind her, so she apparently didn't wake up.

"Baylor?" Harley said quietly. She dropped down to her knees, removing her coat. She balled it up, and placed it under his head, then she curled up next to him. "It's okay, Baylor, daddy will be home in a little while." She whispered, planting a tiny kiss on his cheek.

A single tear rolled down her face, and she quickly wiped it away.

I can't remember for sure, but Harley seems strong, especially for an almost seven year old. I don't think I could hold it together that well now. Maybe it's her innocence, or the amount of trust she places in the world. She hasn't seen the horrors of it yet. She hasn't discovered the bad things that happen everyday, or the evil that stalks around.

This very well may be the day my true childhood ended.