This is something that I wrote in college. I have polished it over the years and its ready for others to view. I hope you enjoy.
The fog was getting thicker that night as the man walked into the cemetery. In one hand he held a bottle wrapped in a brown bag, and in the other, he held a pack of cigarettes. He knew the way by now, he didn’t need to see where he was walking. He had been out here all too often since the accident, he still blamed himself for their death. He walked under the old willow that reminded him of the happier times of their youth, when they laughed, and when they cried. Back before the fateful night that split them up, before he was alone.
The cold air sliced into him, making him shiver, reminding him of that night.
He saw the red and blue lights flashing, people shouting. The loud noises of the machine that was being used to pry open the door.
He stood in front of their grave. He looked down at the two names etched on the tombstone.
Hands were pulling him out, pressing something against his leg. He tried to shout out, to tell them about his brothers in the car.
He took a cigarette from the pack, placed it to his mouth, and lit it.
They were telling him that he would be alright as they stuck him in the arm easing his pain.
He took the cigarette from his mouth and placed it on one side of the tombstone, under his younger brother’s name.
When he woke, they told him the bad news that he was the only survivor.
He untwisted the top of the bottle. Thinking back to how he could have prevented this, if only he had driven the car. He knew that he was the only one that hadn’t been drinking. He turned up the bottle and poured it on the other side of the tombstone. After it was half empty, he placed it under the name of his elder brother. “I miss you guys. You don’t know how much it hurts with you guys not here.” He laid down the pack of cigarettes and walked back to the gate.
