Now and Forever
by Kalamity

 Nobody ever understood what he meant to me.  He was my whole life... the reason why I’m 
here.  That Tom was always there for me, always.  And I treated him like shit.

 But did he care? Hell yeah, he cared.  I know he hated it.  I know his heart ached when I 
yelled at him.  I know he felt it.  

 But how?

 I could hear him at night, from my room just a ways off from his.  Crying.  Sobbing.  
Muffled cries of anguish and rejection.  But gods, I didn’t give a damn.  I didn’t know 
anything about his condition.  Until he broke down.

 I remember it so well, too.  Like it was just a few minutes ago...it’s that fresh in my 
mind.  I was sitting, reading a magazine I had purchased at the local drug store when he 
walked in.  I didn’t take notice of him until he spoke, voice soft and weak.

 "They really hate me, don’t they?"

 I paused my reading to look up at him in confusion.  His face... his face, I recall, was 
white, the gray just barely making itself known.  His beautiful emerald eyes were now red 
from crying, obvious matted wet fur along his cheeks proving the fact.  I had never seen him 
like this before, and I was little shocked... to mention scared.

 "What do you mean? What’re you talkin’ about?"

 "I don’t matter to anyone.  Nobody gives a flying fuck if I live or die, huh?"

 Language! This was completely new to me... I had never heard him curse in any way until 
now, which blew me away.  All this was too sudden for me to take in.  But he was determined 
to get something out of me... I mean, I was the resource for all jokes of other Cats in this 
part of town.  Including the Junkyard.

 "I don’t see what you’re getting at..."

 "Of COURSE you do! Just tell me!" By now he was beginning to lose it, tears beginning to 
form around his eyes once again.  Fists clenched at his side, he continued, his voice 
cracking with each word. "I know they don’t care... I know no one cares.  Just tell me why."

 Speechless.  

 "I’ve heard it all, brother.  Just tell me if anyone really cares."

 He wanted the truth.  The truth was... damn, I hate truths..

 Quietly. "Please."

Now was the golden moment when everything shattered around us.  Everything was to change 
from here on.  And I was the one to decide the fate.  Ooh, I suck at choosing things...

 "No."

 His face relaxed, but his body tensed.  By now, the tears were beginning to fall, causing a 
sharp pang to shoot through my heart.  I should have never had said that.

 "Just as I thought.  I guessed it, really.  Sorta known all this time.. just here to sit 
around, protect everyone and be tossed around like a useless puppet, manipulated by those 
around me.  Must be fun to watch me be abused, huh?"

 Words never came.  I sat numbly, stupidly, staring at the Cat I had thought to be the most 
wonderful thing since Cheese Wiz.  Now he was talking crazy.  Now I was hating myself.

 "No... you don’t understand, not *everyone* thinks that way about you..."

 "You SAID it yourself!" A black hand ran though the thin headfur, ears twitching nervously. 
 "You said it..."

 "I didn’t mean it that way."

 "Then what did you mean?"

 Silence.  We stared at each other, his eyes piercing through my wide, horrified ones, 
searching for what lay beyond.  I’m not sure of what he found, but he found it.  It still 
amazes me how.

 "You don’t hate me, do you?"

 I rose to my feet, my magazine dropping to the floor with a sickening flap of its papers.  
I was torn between strangling him or hugging him senseless, but either way I just stood 
there.  Emotionless.

 "I don’t hate you, bro..."

 "Yes you do." He cut me off, thinking I was denying it.  "You hate my guts, like the rest 
of them."

 "That’s not true!"

 "Yes it is!" His tears were now flowing freely down his face.  "You hate me! You could care 
less if I died!"

 "That’s not true!" I was trying desperately not to break into tears myself, but also trying 
not to say anything that could pull a trigger.

 We argued for awhile before he suddenly turned quiet.  His eyes were no longer showing 
anger.  They were showing a love that I had never witnessed before.  A love I had been 
waiting to see for a very, very long time.

 After the argument, we were pretty much close.  Very close brothers.  We were always 
looking out for each other... we loved one another to death. 

 Then it happened.

 I came home one night to find the place completely silent, something rather unusual for me. 
 By now, music would be blaring and he would come bounding over to greet me happily.  But 
not this night.  

 A certain uneasiness was rising in the air, an eerie mist to it all.  I surveyed the room, 
seeing absolutely nothing unusual, nothing out of place, nothing at all.

 Then I proceeded to his room.

 I was calling his name frantically, scared that something had happened to him.  When I 
reached his door, it was slightly ajar as if he had meant to close it.  Dark inside, very 
peculiar.  I heard but deafening silence from within.  This was not the brother I knew. 

 My hand came upon the door, crashing it open for it to bounce back against the wall 
slightly.  What my eyes told me I couldn’t believe.

 Right there, dead center of the room, was a lying figure outlined in the light that poured 
into the room from behind me.  Quietly, I called for him.  No response.

 Flicking on the light beside me, I entered with caution.  Words could not express what I 
was feeling right there.  All I knew is that I was afraid.  Very afraid.

 Kneeling down beside the body, I lifted the limp figure to see what I did not want to see. 
 Reality struck me in the face with full force.  And I hit back.

 Like hell I was going to believe this.  This could’ve been anyone.  It just had to be him. 
 Out of the corner of my eye I caught a white flicker, like a piece of paper.  With further 
inspection, it was.  Scrawled on it was a letter to me... from him.

 

Dearest brother,

 When you find this, I will be gone.  Gone in a way you would not be too fond of, and I 
apologize for your displeasure. 

 You may be asking yourself right now what made me do this.  If you want the honest truth, 
brother, I did it for you.  

 I have been suffering from deep depression for years now.  I have tried everything from 
pills to therapy to mental hospitals.  Nothing as worked.  Why I haven’t told you this from 
the beginning remains a mystery to me as well.  I guess it always will be a mystery.

 When you entered my life, you became my pride and joy as if you were my own son.  I felt a 
connection, a strong one, as you grew before my eyes.  The connection of blood that joins us 
together as brothers.  I have raised you since you were a newborn, chika, and have tried to 
keep you happy and away from my problems.

 I think I have succeeded in some terms.

 When I broke down that one night, I was contemplating suicide.  But first I wanted to know 
how you felt about me.  When I learned you loved me, in the way I love you as a brother, I 
knew better than to do such a stupid deed.

 Well, look at me now.  I hate death.

 I wanted you to live a different life, brother; not the one I have raised you in.  Not the 
torn, broken, hectic life you were not born to live in.  

 I love you dearly, and I hope I have done something good for you that you will remember.

 Pursue your dreams and I’ll be there to watch you.

 Now and forever.

 

I remember tears finally breaking through and streaming down my face in hot paths down my 
cheeks.  I remember holding his lifeless body in my arms, crying for the both of us. 

 I buried him with my own hands in a beautiful field filled with the tallest, greenest 
grass.  And this is no fantasy here.  It’s located near the Junkyard, a few miles off in the 
countryside.  He loved it there and was usually seen sitting peacefully among the plants, 
taken in by the serenity.

 No one questioned me when I walked through the proper with the body of their protector in 
my arms, fur stained with the dark blood from his suicide wound.  They all backed off and 
allowed me to pass in peace.  They knew what had happened.  They knew how close we were.

 Upon concealing my dear sibling in the ground forever, the curious eyes of a raven watched 
from a little distance off, as if he could sense what was going on.  I smiled faintly at it, 
knowing for a fact that the ravens had always been a big thing with my brother and wished to 
have one of his own.  

 I placed white roses, his favourite kind, at the head of his grave.  As I sat back to 
recollect my greatest memories of him, the raven came hopping over to me, peering at the new 
flower and fresh, dark soil.  It blinked up at me, then hobbled over to place itself atop 
the grave and sit down on its haunches, fluffing up.

 It was rather fascinating at what this wild bird was doing.  It was perfectly calm, 
seemingly taking no notice of me whatsoever, but was content at where it was.  Somehow, I 
felt the connection that my brother felt with me. 

 Love.

 That bird is now residing with me in the tire in which I shared with him.  I know his soul 
is currently in that raven, and its there to watch over me.  To protect me.

 As Munkustrap did.  He played the biggest role in my life that no one else could play.  A 
brother, a teacher, a parent, and a guardian all rolled into one.  And best of all, I, 
Tugger, was blessed with his presence night and day.  I’ll never forget him.

And I’ll always love him.

 Now and forever.