My eyes wandered aimlessly through my Netflix queue; my eye lids were falling slowly down, but I needed to stay awake. I knew falling asleep would lead me to have the dreams again. Have you ever watched a horror film, or been frightened by something before going to sleep, so you stay awake to avoid the nightmares you know will follow? I was at that point, but for no reason in particular. A great deal of things in this world cause me anxiety, but very few things can ease my worry; sleep, for instance, is not one of the things that can ease my worry because sleep makes things worse. Being awake is avoidance.
A low, hushed voice called to me from outside of my door. “Becca, you still up?” Oh, It was Parker. “Yeah, open the door so I can hear you,” I replied to my brother. “We need to talk now,” Parker grimly stated, as though he was delivering news of a death in the family. Oh, dear.
“Have you ever heard of another brother?” Parker inquired. Another brother? What was he talking about? Besides Parker? What? “Um, no. Parker, what’s your deal? What’s going on?” I responded. I could feel an infinity-sized knot growing in my stomach. Worry. “I don’t want to bother you. I really don’t; I just haven’t been able to get this off my mind, sis.” Parker face seemed contorted as he spoke. He nervously looked around at my desk and started playing with a pad of Post-Its. Then, he moved onto an empty cup with a straw in it. Pulling the straw and pushing it back down, he finally turned to me and spoke again: “You know our family has a lot of secrets right? I know you do. Back when I was still dating Maria, she met this guy who she swore looked just like me. A few of my friends have told me the same thing.” “I mean, I haven’t, but I mean, you probably just have some doppelganger,” I anxiously retorted.
“No, Bec. This is different.” Parker paused momentarily. He looked angry, then sad, then like he would be sick. He looked down at a pile of clothes on the floor he was kicking around with his foot. He looked back up at me and my heart slowly started to shatter, like a glass falling in slow motion. I knew something happened. Something bad. Parker mustered up enough courage to whisper, “Sis, they’re lying. Everyone tells me about this person. Danny’s mom was talking to dad and dad said that he has three children.” I was about to tell him his notion was silly, that the third child was probably a close family friend or something. I did not know who, but I discarded the notion that I could be wrong. Parker’s voice was breaking as he said, “Danny saw the guy. He said the guy looked JUST like me. Danny thought he WAS me. When he figured out he wasn’t me, Danny introduced himself, and the guy said his name was Charles Parkfield.” No. No. No, no, no. Too many coincidences. A person who looks exactly like my brother, has the same name as my father, and my father says he has three children? Why would they lie? Why wouldn’t our parents tell us? Why would they get rid of a child? I was born prematurely with health problems, and so was my brother. They didn’t get rid of us. “Get rid of” sounded really bad. I didn’t mean to mentally make my parents out to be villains, but what if they were? They had secrets. I already knew that. Parker already knew that. We worked through the secrets and trust issues. Why more secrets? Why would they keep our brother away from us?

I’m worried. I should have gone to sleep.