I look at the brave sea as the angry waves swallow the rocks near the coast and swallows them again. I dig my hand in the slightly wet sand, the grains are uncomfortable underneath my nails. I hear someone walking up to me, my brother sits down beside me, his burgrundy red trousers and light blue formal shirt blowing in the wind. "You'll catch a cold" I say as I see his blue feet. He shrugs, "You're not really wearing that much more." I look at myself, I am wearing a turtleneck and coat, so that isn't very accurate but Aspen could win an argument about why grass is red. He hands me a glass of whiskey while he pours himself a glass.

"Tomorrow going back to hell...... let's taste a bit of heaven first." I nod as I take a sip but I do not like it at all, I must confess I haven't had whiskey before. I only really drink wine back at home, but my brother loves to drink hard liquor so we'll do that for him tonight. "You don't like it do you?" He says with an amused smile, "No problem my dear brother." He says as he wraps his arm around me. "I thought it tasted like petrol the first time I tasted it." He says with a smile. I look at him, he is probably not even aware how much I appreciate him talking to me like this. "Aspen, I do not want to go back to our parents." "I remember the first year I lived away from home. Of course I was younger than you were but......I finally understood what it felt like to have a home. It made me strangely happy but also sad. I had never known a home," He chuckles. "While being part of a noble house." He shakes his head. "No, I understand your dread completely Evan. You've become so much more free since I have taken you in, I am delighted to see that." He lights his cigarette, "Thank you Aspen." "I mean it Evan, I know....I know I do not say this enough." He looks at the sea and I see the salty tears in his eyes, I always wonder if that might be a part of the ocean deep within us. "But I really love you."

I look at my brother, fascinated he feels the need to say this. I can feel he loves me, everyday he shows it. He is more loyal than my own parents, more loyal than friends, more loving than anyone I have ever met. "I know that Aspen, why do you think you need to say that?" he shrugs, "I...we just weren't raised with the ability to show it. I cannot detect love that easily, it is sometimes hopeless. I just was never taught to show it, so I am still struggling.I want you to know I love you little brother." I frown, "You normally don't say it." He shrugs, "We need to have eachother when we return."

I look at the interesting appearance of my brother, his elegant patchwork tattoos on his neck and the palms and the back of his hand, the ones on his arms are covered by his light blue shirt. Most of them have to do with the history of our family, his books, other literature, stars or the people he loves. He does not have a partner but he shares his mansion with me and another boy, Cato. An auburn haired, freckled, green eyed nerd who is kinder than anyone I have ever met. I always wonder what exactely they are but he never tells me. I believe that is because both of them are afraid to be more than best friends. My eyes stray towards the scars in patterns on his knuckles. I smile, when he wasn't allowed to get tattoos when he turned 18 he carved artwork into the back of his fingers. He was a wild child, while simultaniously being the golden boy. His bumpy nose and pale green eyes are beautifully framed by his femenine face, his long black hair doesn't help I chuckle the irony.

"We should go back inside, you need to sleep. Tomorrow we need to leave early." I nod and stand up. "Yeah" He stands up and walks towards the water. "aspen?" He doesn't respond, my heart starts beating faster. "Aspen!" I say while running towards him, he turns around, he is standing in the rough water, the waves swallowing his body again and again. "What??" He says with a smile as he almost gets thrown off his feet. I chuckle and shake my head. "You'll catch a cold." He walks out of the water "And you've caught the rare disease of parental instinct." He jokes while wrapping his soaked arm around me, I run away, trying to avoid the wet hug.

I put on my simple suit and stuggle to put on my tie. Aspen has only taught me a double and single widsor. "Are you ready?" Aspen asks while entering the room. "Almost." I say as I sigh. He smiles and grabs the tie, "Eldredge or trinity knot?" I smile, "Eldredge please." He nods and starts tying my tie. "You look good Evan." He says. I smile and look at his suit, he is wearing a dark green, almost black suit and a silk blouse with a turtleneck, he is wearing my old pearl earrings and a bun. I gave them to him when I didn't want earrings anymore and he has worn them almost every day since than. The trousers of his suit are beautifully wide and he is of course wearing brogue derby shoes. "I feel underdressed" He shakes his head and laughs "I am overdressed and you look absolutely handsome, you look very masculine Evan." He finished the knot and puts his hands on my shoulders. "You look perfect. I love your hair, a hockey cut right? Be proud of yourself, sometimes we must force just a bit of arrogance." He says with a smile. I look at my signet ring, it is a lady one. He smiles and walks away, he returns with a signet ring of his own. "Here, one of my first ones. I hope it'll fit. You deserve to be treated the way you truly are."

We step out of the car and two people of the staff grab our suitcases, one thing I do not like about my brother is that he has always been blind to the staff. It is what our parents taught us, to them we hardly ever should say thank you, and my brother still obeys that rule. Not with the staff he has himself but here he does, he only really talks and thanks his valet/getlemen's gentlemen. But I cannot not thank these people, so I thank them as Aspen and I walk over the gravel driveway, around the simple fountain. Our parents are waiting for us in front of the door, our mother smiling brightly and our father smoking a cigarette. I give my mother a hug, Aspen smiles and extends his hand. Our mother hugs him but he does not seem too happy about it. I hug my father, but it is a bit uncomfortable. "Welcome back Cosmo," She says as she puts her hand on Aspen's shoulder. "And my dear Evangeline." She says with a smile. I feel myself freezing, that's my birth name. Why does she keep using that one? "Mum, you know he is called Evan." "Cosmo, I called her Evangeline, what's wrong with the name." "Nothing that's why he only changed it to Evan. And you know I prefer Aspen." "Yes yes Cosmo, only because you use Cosmo for your books." Aspen grabs our father's cigarette out of his mouth and takes a puff before throwing it on the ground and shaking my father's hand. "Nice to see you again father." He says with his normal polite disdain.

We enter the victorian manor house and I am met by memories, too many memories. Not all bad I must be honest but the majority is not good. "There's a surprise." My father says with a smile. We walk into the dining room and there our grandparents stand. "Evangeline!" My grandma says as she kisses Aspen. "And our dear Cosmo! Your sister has really grown much taller than you." Aspen laughs., "Grandma, I am Cosmo, that is Evan." My grandma looks perplexed at Aspen and back at me "This is Evangeline?" Aspen smiles and nods. "You might've heard of transgender people grandma? Care to explain Evan?" He says while greeting our grandfather and sitting down at the dark wooden table. And so I explain, but my parents seem to be deaf. But I know that they will probably never call me him, evan or even see me as a boy. 

"Well, if you are happy we are happy Evange...I mean Evan." Our grandfather says with a kind smile. "Not that we can promise to understand everything" Grandma says with a chuckle. "That is alright. Questions are always welcome." I respond. As our first course is set on the table. "Evangeline what ring are you wearing." "Aspen's ring." Aspen smiles and nods. "Give it back immediately you have your own." He says. "No, he'll wear it. He likes it and I am weiring his earrings so why not?" he says with a sharp undertone to his father. "He's twenty father, you cannot control him anymore. Even when you have that illusion." He says with a smirk. "Control is interesting Cosmo, you'll learn eventually."

My father and my brother haven't really had a good relationship since my brother published his first book. He was sixteen and it was an instant hit, and no it wasn't for children it was full blown literature. He won several awards and it became a bestseller and instant classic. I am not aware what happened that year but their once loving relationship quickly went sour towards a dysfunctional, emotionally and sometimes even physically abusive relationship. But when I started my transition his focus started to become more on being mean to me and ignoring Aspen. Aspen seemed to be fine with that, well, not really no one can insult me without angering Aspen. Back in boarding school when I was transferred to the boy's school I became aware that even though my brother had plenty of friends there was something strange about him. He was a strange anomality, a golden boy and at the same time a trouble maker. A disappointment while being a genius. But the strange tihing was there weren't a lot of fights in school, yes there were insults, vicious insults but the difference between those people and my brother was that they threw words and he did not hesitate to throw hands. But never for himself, always to protect or defend me. Still I wonder what happened, and why I am worth a black eye and the risk of being expelled and he isn't.

We say goodbye to our grandparents and sit down at the dinner table once again to have another good glass of wine. "So Cosmo, how's your new book coming along?" "I am not interested in telling you in case you want to profit off of it again." He says with a bitter face to father. "Well no of course not" Our mother says but he doesn't answer. "Evangeline, how's your study?" My mother asks me trying to avoid a fight between my brother and father but if those two want to fight it'll happen eventually. "Can't you call him by his real name! He hasn't been Evangeline for six years now!" He says, I am grateful. "We gave her the name Evangeline so she will forever be Evangeline!" "The government disagrees!" He screams. "Aspen, stop it" I say. "No Evan, your own family should love an accept you! Not treat like the real you doesn't exist! You are happier like this right evan?" I nod, "See all you do father, is rotting our lives and happiness. You father, are the reason we cannot understand love! You are a control freak and a sadist who enjoys having cotrol!" My father grabs his empty wine glass and hits it against Aspen's head so it breaks. The shards fall on the ground and aspen stand up slamming his hand on the table when my father stabs his hand with the broken glass. He doesn't makes a sound, as if he isn't pain, he is just looking at it. My mother grabs my hand "Stand up evan, get to your room."

I know she wants to protect me but it only makes me scared for Aspen as I sit on the large staircase. Trying to hear what they're talking about. But most things I hear are my father's voice, strange wailing that sounds like an animal and sometimes he my brother tries to say something. And than my brother screams something. "You can push anybody into depression, you can take any money from me, you can take my honour and my pride. You can hurt me and punish me but for god's sake let my brother be! Give him just a bit respect, understand that the world isn't as kind to him as it is to you and me. Understand he needs you to accept him to accept himself. He needs your love, for me it is far too late but please at least give him a bit of hope. Let him the life I wish I had" I hear the doors opening and immediately run to my room so he doesn't see me and get's mad at me.

This reminds me of the time I found him on the roof. He had a bad fight with our father because his new book leaned to much into absurdism and not existentialism but Aspen was arguing that it was truly a book where the absurdism invites to new existentialism or even nihilism, it only depends how the reader reads it and feels for the characters. If you are a happy person you'll most likely find existentialism, if not you'll find nihilism. But our father saw that as my brother criticizing him, which led to a fight. I still don't know what happened but when he came back from his room the back of his white shirt was burgrundy red and smelled like iron. I found him on the roof that evening, smoking a cigarette. I walked over the roof and sat down next to him. Not looking down, I was too afraid of the terrible height. "Are you planning to kill yourself?" I asked as he took a swig from a bottle of bourbon. "Do you think I am?" He asked. I chuckled and shook my head. "You never know." "You never know." He said with a smile.

I want to brush my teeth but I hear someone crying in the bathroom. "Suck it up suck it up Cosmo!." He whispers as he is hyperventilating. I take a deep breath, not knowing whether to help him or not. How could I help. "You're still a good son, you should be happy. It is god how loyal you are when they've stolen all your royalties from your first book. You still love them. After all I am proud to be a part of the noble house of saintirac." He whispers to himself. "I am not drowning, I am not drowning. I will be fine."

I walk away, I do not know how to help him. He is always fine, he is always happy. I cannot help him in any way. I could not help him. I begin to read a book when he suddenly enters the room. "Hi evan, am I disturbing?" He asks as he sits down in front of me. "I am as free as it gets." "You know I told you I loved you?" I nod my head. "I really mean that." "I love you too Aspen, but you don't need to say it this much." He nods and looks at me "Evan, am I like father? Or am I a good person?" I chuckle. "Come on Aspen, you couldn't be like father in a thousand years. You couldn't afford to be like that. You haave defended me, protected me, cared for me and loved me. That alone makes you a good person, it is something our father couldn't even do." He sighs and fiddled with his rings. "I choose to believe he once loved us. I cannot believe he has never loved us that would be...too tragic. And Evan, protecting and caring about you doesn't make me a good person, it just might make a slightly less shitty one." He sighs. "But I actually came here to console you. I want you to know I believe in you, I know you are gifted with a good pair of brains, you are finally in the body you are supposed to be in. You deserve to be happy, even when these people cannot see this. Do not let them discourage you. The world will love you, have that trust. They'll love you." He says with a smile, I look at him, wondering if I see a tear in his eye but there is only happiness in his face. He kisses my forehead. "I love you." I say. "I love me too." He says and laughs while he walks out of the room. "Aspen." he looks over his shoulder. "Thank you." "Don't say thank you for things you haven't asked for." He says with a smile as he leaves the room.

the next morning we are waiting for Aspen at the breakfast table. He is never tardy, he has always been a very punctual person and he is always the first on the table. Or well at least normally. "Get your brother, he is probably sulking in his room."

I walk towards my brothers room, the biggest room in this wing. He has a beautiful room with an incredibly big window where the morning sun shine through everyday. Staining the room in the colours of the stained glass. It is incredible. I knock on the door. "Aspen are you up?" No answer, "Aspen?" I knock again, "It's just me, evan." Still no answer. I sigh and I open the door.

The morning sun blinds me before leading my sight to the black luxurious bed with green sheets catches my eye. I run towards the bed. My body is shocked with disbelief by the white shell of a human laying on the bed. I hardly recognise my brother, a smoldering cigarette still burning on his bare chest, an empty bottle of pills in his hand and an almost dried up tear still on his face. I hear myself screaming and crying in disbelief as I lift up his body so I can hug him. I cradle him as if he could still be alive, The way I am holding him reminds me of the way michelangelo's pietà is positioned, I understand what hopelessness Mary must have felt. I ask god to be kind to my brother, while I never believed in him. I hug him tightly when I feel something on his back. I look at it, there are scars, the word "failure" has been cruelly carved out. He couldn't have done that himself, that must've been........ That night........ I put my hand in front of my mouth and begin to cry even harder. My parents enter the room, my mothers eye change from curiosity to horror. She just lost her son.......because of her own cowardice.

My father grabs the pill bottle and checks his pulse. "Alprazolam, xanax. He was depressed. Good riddance." He says. "Coward" I scream, "We both know this is your fault!" My father doesn't answer but for the first time in my life I see tears in his eyes before he leaves.

death doesn't look like the person who wears it does, you can recognise the people, but the strange open mouth and the emotionless eyes, the soul....is gone, the sadness, the happiess, the memories. The blue tint which he sometimes used to have when he was sick, but it doesn't truly feel like my brother anymore. I look at his sober but beautiful suit he will be buried in. I take out the bun, he would've wanted to have his hair down. I grab something from my pocket, they're my old pearl earrings, my parents didn't want him to be androgynous why he was being buried. But what does it matter. I put the pearl earrings, he looks more like himself. I kiss him on the forehead, "Aspen, I love you. I know I didn;t say it enough." A tear rolls down my cheek. "But I promise I do."

I feel numb as the funeral begins, I do not hear anything but sadness and sometimes some beautiful music. But truly, it does not mean enough. My father praises my brother and his fame, how dares he. I hate the fact that everyone is allowed to come to his funeral. so some of his literary fans came, my father has the absolute nerve to announce he will publish some works after his death. Is this man unable to feel? Now it is my turn to say something "I always thought you can see if someone is okay. The truth is you can't. My brother was nothing short of a saint, he has never had cruel intentions. My brother has helped me through the worst times in my life, if he wasn't present. He could write letters like no other. I had a time where I felt the way my brother must've felt in his last moment''s and this is what he wrote:

Dear Evan,

It saddens me to hear this, but truly I will not talk about that, because how incredibly selfish would that be. Evan, the world is much simpler than we might think I do not mean that literally. But it is true, we can make the world as complicated or as simple as we want with our human abilities of thought. We can turn a mosquitoe into a beautiful majestic elephant, or a very scary tiger. However, those will not bite till we tell our minds they will. I am not saying look at it from another perspective, because that would be the worst cliche ever and I cannot afford that on my track record. I just want to say that perhaps it is truly okay that we make that mosquitoe an elephant because for us it just might be. So don't let them tell you to calm down, to suck it up and go on. I do have a simple thing to ask, why do you not try to befriend the elephant, maybe sharing a room with it isn't too bad at all.

Your strange brother,

Cosmo Aspen Saintirac

"I believe this is what he would've like to hear himself, so I wanted to say this to anyone who needs it, or to anyone who knows someone who needs to learn to live with their elephants. I want that the next time someone feels like this, there will be someone to say it. For Aspen, for my brother, for his death."

I take a deep breath, I walk away and sit down next to Cato, who is silently crying. I wrap my arm around him and look with hatred at my family.

We are standing beside eachother as the coffin is lowered. I know I haven't talked to Cato enough in the months I have been living with him and my brother. "Evan, why don't your parents call you Evangeline anymore?" "They don't want to lose another son, or daughter in their eyes." Cato chuckles. "Awfully transphobic, that you;d need a death to realise your mistake." I nod, the way cato talks resembles my brother. The same dark humour and chuckle, only difference is the roughness my brother did not have. I sigh.

"I thought I would know if my brother would be unhappy.But I didn't. I feel like I have failed him....but he wouldn't want me to feel like this. I just don't understand how he could seem so happy, how he could seem so okay, how he survived the torture from his mind. But he used to say, you can drown in seven feet of water, or seventy, you are still dead. " I say.

Cato nod and says "I wish I had told him I love him before.....before" "He knew you loved him and he loved you." I respond. The first part might be a lie. But I am absolutely certain he loved him, he loved, he loved us.

I need a better title, suggestions are more than welcome