Chapter four: Ben

"Ben...Benjamin."
Ben peered up from his cereal bowl and looked at his sister who was standing in the middle of his door way. She had her arms crossed.
"What Hope, what could you possibly want at this moment?" She looked at him disgusted, and it made him feel bad. He finally sighed, "yes, yes Hope?"
"Umm, that girl ,Ella , came over I told her you were busy, and turns out you weren't." She was making a weird face, as if saying he was a lazy bum.
"Oh my gosh! She was here, she was here and you just let her leave?"
"I told her you were unpacking your room! That is what I thought you were doing anyway! After you just dropped Dad's box of plaques he earned right on the cement."
"I am sorry, but I can't touch that stuff, not now not ever." She glanced at him annoyed but quickly smiled.
"Psh, what ever brother. I am gonna go unpack my softball trophies." But she didn't leave; just watched him eat and that always made him paranoid.
"What? Stop staring. You are the reason I go to therapy as well. You and your creepy little staring facades!
"Ha, okay that is why you go. Well anyways I think Ella and I will in the future be good friends."
"Oh really, is that so? Whatever, Hope, if you say so." She rolled her eyes and then walked away.
He thought to himself as he watched the cereal peices dance around the bowl. She was a pain in the rear! She was so annoying and naive, plus she was nosey; but at the end of the day she was there for him, that's all that mattered anyway.
Ben stared out of his window as he tried to unpack his desk accessories. He was so tired he just wanted to lay out on the wooden floor; but then he thought that laying there would get his slobbery-mouthed dog to pounce on him. So he decided to just man-up and put things away. Before he knew it he had gotten through five boxes, mostly filled up with trophies or knick knacks that went around his room. He was on a role everything seemed to just kind of float out of the box and into the place it needed to be; As he finished the sixth box he noticed his mother's handwriting on a even bigger box in the corner it read,"Very Freaking Fragile!" The corners were worn and the tape was loose so, out of curiousity he opened it. The box had a certain smell when he pulled the flaps open, it smelled like cedar and old blankets; it reminded him a little of the river. Then, he looked at all the contents in the box some were glass knick knacks his father bought him, there was an old blanket -hince the smell- that was made out of patches of his father's work shirts. There were also old baseballs and most important of all there was the glass piggy bank that was shaped in bubble letters of Ben's name; he wanted to cry. He wanted to close the box and dispose of it underneath his floorboard, better yet he wanted to go back in time just to see his dad's face once more.
"Honey, I-" His mom abruptly stopped talking when she noticed what box he had open. She just stared at him as he kept a steady glare at the box.
"Benjamin? Honey, I put your dirty clothes basket in the laundry room, I assume the stuff in there is dirty?" He was baffled. He was angry. She knew what he was going through, but she still puts this box in here?
"Why? Why is this in here, why did you put this in my room?"
"Ben, I put that in there because I thought you wanted it in there. That is all the stuff your father bought you. It has always been in your room."
"Mom, take it out of here. I don't want this in here." His mom looked frustrated and bewildered. Before she said anything else she stomped in the room and took the box promptly and escaped out the door.
Finally, she gets it! Finally, she knows that I want nothing to do with that stuff, not now not ever.
He heard quick feet stomping back down the hallway towards his room.
"You know what, I am tired, I am sick and tired. You are not the only one who lost someone! Okay you are not the only one who is lonely! You have no idea. You act like the box will poison you. God forbid I didn't put one of his socks in here."
"Mom, I don't need that stuff in here ever."
Her face said it all. Her blue eyes grew big and her blonde hair was pushed back. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Before he could apologize for being so unapologetic for his actions she ran down the stairs and he heard her door slam.
"What the heck, Ben? What's wrong with mom?" Ben's brother was now strattling the archway to the stairs and glaring at him.
"Nothing she just got sick and tired."
"Yeah of your sorry attitude."
"Oh shut it, like your the prince of kindness, you don't have any room to talk!" Ben wanted to clothes line his brother and watch him fall; but he knew that violence wouldn't solve anything.
"You know what, I don't; your right I don't have room to talk but you have no right to talk to mom the way you do. You aren't the only one who is scarred for life. I have a kid on the way, yeah, didn't know that did you? Yes, my kid will never know their grandpa. They will never know what a gentle soul he was; and here you are practically wanting to throw his stuff out the window. Shame on you Benjamin PEIRCE Dodger. Shame on you." His brother trudged off down the stairs leaving Ben feeling miserable, selfish, and naive.
As big as the house was, while Ben was laying in his bed he could hear his mom's heavy sobs still. He could hear his brother talking to her while she still cried out things like, "I just don't understand him anymore?"
He hadn't heard from Hope in awhile so she was probably avoiding the situation while she sang to her music or crying herself to sleep. Either way, he knew she knew what was going on; and that made him want to bawl.
That night he had a horrible dream, he dreamt his father was coming home from work, but something was different about him. There was this strange look in his eye, almost as if he knew he shouldn't be there; as if he knew he was dead yet he was still visible.
His father checked out his hands and touched his own face. Ben called out his father's name, but his father just looked at him and said, "i'm dead." As Ben ran after his father, his dad disappeared through the door. Ben ran faster and faster but his father kept disappearing in different places. In Ben's dream he was running as fast and hard as he could. All of a sudden he stumbled on something. When he glanced down to see what it was he had to wipe the tears from his eyes, and when he could finally see he noticed it was his father's body.
Frantic screams escaped his body as he yelled at the sight of his father's body, yet again. He couldn't believe it, it felt like his heart was frozen. The back of his neck tingled. Suddenly, he felt someone grab his shoulders and shake him very quickly. When he turned around it was his father. But when he actually tried to look at him, his dad was nowhere insight.
"Ben!"
"Dad? Dad!!"
"No, Ben open your eyes. Open your eyes Ben!"
"Your dead, your dead and you are here talking to me?" By now tears were gushing down his face.
"Ben, open your eyes, it is me Mark." When Ben opened his eyes his brother Mark was sitting down next to him on the bed with a horrid look.
"Ben, are you okay?"
"No, I saw Dad. I tripped over his body, his dead body and-"
"Shhh, okay little brother." Ben glared up at his brother and quickly sat up.
"I need to go."
"Where are you going to go at three?"
"Away from here, I need to go."
"Sit down Ben, NO! I will not let you. Come to my room, come to my room we will watch tv." Watching Tv didn't sound so bad, if it would keep his mind off of what happened.. he was all in favor. However, he still felt like crying, he still felt hopeless. Still, he had to remind himself that he had to be strong in order to get over his father's death. He needed to be okay. Fact of the matter is that not everything or anyone is okay. Sometimes we have to accept change.