~ Chapter 49 ~
I wrote this chapter differently than the others. It is written entirely from Kevin's point of view.
I parked my car at the entrance and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Last night's rain had turned the dirt road into a mud-filled swampland and my feet sunk deep into it. I opened the trunk and grabbed my stuff. Inhaling the crisp air, I glanced around and frowned. This place had really gone to the birds since the owner closed it years ago. I guess no one decided to buy it. Such a shame. There were acres and acres of land. It was heaven on earth. The perfect place for me to spend my final day.
I pushed open the rusty wrought-iron gates. They creaked and whined, sending shivers down my spine. The welcome sign hung lopsidedly off the gate, it's white color so washed out from years of Mother Nature's wear and tear that I could barely make out the name on it. The main chalet was about 30 feet from me, looking forlorn and gloomy. I trudged through the mud until I reached the front door. I didn't imagine the door would be locked and was surprised to find it was. I dug into my pocket and reached for the key I'd kept with me all these years and inserted it into the keyhole. Yay! It worked! The door creaked open. These sounds were getting rather annoying. Twenty cobwebs attacked me as I stepped inside. I couldn't believe this was the same place that I had spent most of my childhood. The once light-blue walls were now a faded color of a gross nature. There were cobwebs at almost every turn and more dust than I'd ever seen.
I walked into the area that was known as the family room, where all the guests used to gather to watch TV, chat, and play games. Most of the furniture was still there, covered by sooty off-white sheets. I started yanking the sheets off the sofa, chairs, and coffee tables. The furniture still looked somewhat decent. I wonder why my mother hadn't taken this stuff and put it in our basement? Next, I went into the kitchen. Feelings of nostalgia swept over me as I remembered all the years I had spent in here watching my mom and aunts bake and cook for the guests. I could still smell the aroma of bread baking and chicken roasting. I smiled at the memories. When I was still young enough and could get away with it, I would sneak in here while everyone was still in the dining room and lick all the bowls clean. Timmy had caught me once, but hadn't stooled on me. Jerry, Timmy, and I had some of our best times here. I remember all things we did together as if they happened yesterday. All the campfires we built with dad, the hikes we took, the games we helped dad organize for the guests. My favorite was the Treasure Hunt. I use to get so angry when I couldn't figure out the clues, but as time went on, I picked up some pointers and became an expert. Dad even let me organize a few hunts myself. This made the little boy in me very proud. Even now.
I looked upward and smiled. I swear I could see dad looking at me. He said he would always watch over me. My smile turned to a frown. If that's true, why am I here? Why did I do what I did last year? I went back into the livingroom and sank down onto the old sofa. How much time do I have left? Not much. I don't have much stuff left and whatever's left has to do the job. Even though I need a fix right now, I decided to hold off until I could take it all at once and be done with it. Tears started to burn my eyelids and I thought about my life. From the first memory at age three to the last time I saw anyone a couple of days earlier.
The first person that popped into my mind was Loreto. Sweet, soft, and sarcastic. That's my girl. I wiped a few stray tears away as I remembered the baby she'd been carrying only a few days earlier. My baby. The baby I'll never get to see, hold, or touch. The woman who had been carrying it -- the woman I had begun to love like no other -- was going to bear the burden of my misery. The one who made me rethink my decisions about life -- who kept me going while I went through withdrawal. How could I lure her into my world of sorrow? She was an innocent girl with a crush on her idol. She would have been better off having never met me and living her fantasies. Reality bites. I left a letter for her with her condo supervisor. I hope she understands why I have to do this. I can no longer bear the pain I see when I look into her eyes. The knowledge that I put it there and that I have to hurt her like this is tearing me apart. She's young. She'll find another someday and I will fade into some distant memory.
My cousin Brian. The Rok. Other than my mom, Brian's probably the person I trusted the most. We drifted apart. My fault. I shouldn't have let my problems interfere with our relationship. We're blood and we should have always been there for one another. Brian was always there for me. Even though we're two different people who disagreed and came to blows because of Brian's stubborn streak and my strive for perfection, the love was still there. Brian's goofiness got me through many hard times, especially after my father's death and my break up with first-love Beth. He always reminded me of the good things in life. I hope he and Leighanne live a long and prosperous life together filled with joy and lots of children. B deserves the best.
My thoughts turned to the most stable person in my life. The strongest person I have ever known. My loving mother Ann. Mom. Mommy. I sniffled as the tears started again. I know what this will do to her. I guess I should be asking myself why I want to hurt my mother? Why am I going to put her through the death of another loved one? Her baby boy. Here I am, almost 28 years old, and she still calls me her baby. Which makes me happy. I want to be somebody's baby. One part of me thinks that I am the cruelest human being alive for doing this to my mom. I remember mom after dad passed away. She was a fence of iron. She comforted my brothers and I. She put aside her own grief and took care of ours. She cared about everyone. If I wasn't so sure of my mother's strenght, I wouldn't be able to go through with this. She knows there has to be someone in heaven to take care of dad. He's getting older and needs me. She has Jerry and Timmy. Dad has no one. He's all alone like I am. Soon we'll be together. I know she'll cry a river of tears, but she'll find peace with the knowledge that I'm happy. She's always said that all she wants for her children are for them to be happy.
One thing I always wanted was a younger brother. I guess since I'm the youngest in my family, I had no one to teach, watch over, or take care of. When I joined The Backstreet Boys and met 12 year old Nicky he became the little brother I never had. Nick and I have had our share of arguments over the years. Especially once he hit 16 and started having ideas of his own which didn't always go over well with me. But beyond that, we loved each other. All of us Backstreet brothers did. There was a bond formed in 1993 that will never be broken. I won't be around in 30 years for a BSB reunion, but I'll be watching over my four little brothers. I love them all equally, but Nick and I shared something special. How could I hurt him so? It was jealousy. Loneliness. I wanted what Nick had. That happy smile on his face. The knowledge that someone loved me and cared about me the way I thought "she" cared about him. It was certainly the wrong way to go about it. I made a mistake and now Nick's paying for it. Not only that, he almost died because of me. Because I had to go chase him and try to explain myself -- as if that would make my guilt disappear. It didn't. It just created a bigger mess and made my feel like the most horrible person alive. I know Nick can't forgive me for what I did. I hurt him and I betrayed him. I can't stand to look into those eyes and see the hurt little boy. It kills me. Nick once told me that I was his rock. What he never knew was that he was my rock. When things got tough on the road, Nick would smile that goofy grin of his and challenge me to a game of Nintendo which to this day I still suck at. Watching him goof around would remind me of what it's like to be young and carefree. When the days got long and the nights even longer, Nick would cry because he missed his family. He'd come to me and seek comfort. I remember falling asleep with his little angelic 13 year old face next to mine. When I was upset about something, he would ask me what's wrong and try and cheer me up. Whenever the anniversary of my dad's death rolled around, he would spend time with me, talking about whatever I wanted to. He was there for me and look what I've done to him?
The tears were coming in earnest now. I opened my backpack and took out some kleenex to blow my nose. I don't know how long I'd been sitting here, but it was getting dark. I found a lamp that worked. I went through my stuff until I found some pictures. Me and dad fishing when I was five. The whole family in front of this place. Brian and I, Christmas 1989. Brian was such a shrimp back then. I giggled. He still is. One of my fave group shots of The Backstreet Boys taken in 1996 in Germany. God, we all looked so young back then. Another group shot -- this one our very first professional picture together as a group in late 1993. I had to giggle again. Can we say geeks? Thank God we grew out of that phase. A single tear fell onto a picture of Nick and I. It's from a photoshoot we did in 1997. Nick's hugging my waist and making a silly face and I'm patting his head. We look so happy. I pulled out another picture. Nick and I again -- not that long ago. Last December 31st in Orlando. New Years Eve. The camera caught all of us bringing in the New Year. Nick's standing away from me, gazing at me with a look of despair in his eyes. This photo haunts me -- it's like he knew what I knew. I shuddered then found my favorite photo of Nick and I -- in 1994. Brian took this picture and called it "An Angel Watching Over Nick." In this one, Nick's asleep on a bus with his head in my lap and I'm holding him in my arms. I remember how sick he was that day. Food poisoning. He wanted his mom or dad and he said I was the closest thing to them. I felt pain in my heart as if a wrench was squeezing it tightly. I pulled out another picture. Loreto and I in Norway. My arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Was she pregnant then? I squeezed my eyes shut, some tears escaping. I'm so sorry Lolo. So sorry. Another one of Loreto and I with Nick and Shae. Nick and I look like robots. Our smiles seem so fake. I pulled out my favorite picture of Loreto and kissed it. My angel. Last, but not least, one of my parents on their wedding day. I kissed that one also. I love you momma. I love you so much. I smiled through my tears.
It was time. I pulled the stuff out of my bag and began my journey to meet dad.
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