A/N- Hiya, y'all, I hope you had a great Easter and everything. This Easter has been really hard considering I didn't have my brother around to celebrate it with and in honour of Travis Day, a day he named for himself to keep up the holidays, I am going to post a story I wrote a little bit ago, right after he departed. It's sad and angsty, and there is death, so I warn you ahead. I just wanna get feelings out before this major major dance I have to do comes up and I'm more jittery than normal.

Rating: PG-13 probably, I'll change it if you think I should.


When I walked up to the small white house, it was almost as if nothing had happened, but I knew it did. It was hard to just walk that minute long walk to the house, but I knew I had to do it if I wanted to get my feelings out. And this was the way to do it. There was only one person who was going through what I was going through, and, even though he was six years older than I, I knew I could talk to him. You see, me and Matt haven't exactly had too much in common, but we were still able to talk to each other about almost everything. I had to talk to him about this.

The hardest thing that has ever happened, just happened to me and Matty. It was worse than when Daddy got in that car wreck last year and when Mommy Ruth died. Well, about the same as when Mommy Ruth died. When I finally got up the courage to entre the house, there were millions of people, it seemed. Matty was in his bedroom, I knew he would be. Either his, or Jeffy's. I figured it would be way to hard for him to be in Jeffy's room so soon after...well...after Jeffy killed himself.

I found Daddy Gil and he assured me that Matty would be in his room. He'd been there since last night when they found out. You see, Jeffy had been acting different for a while, he wouldn't let anyone talk to him about certain things; he never went out anymore; and he definately wasn't into as many things as he had been into. Then, last night, Daddy Gil found Jeffy dead upstate. They called me this morning from home. I couldn't believe my ears. Jeffy had tried overdosing on pills, the police said, and obviously when it didn't work, he drove his car off the bridge and shot himself when he hit the water.

I couldn't believe this.

It wasn't happening.

When I got to Matty's room, he was turned facing the window; I knew he would never want anyone to see him so emotional. When Mommy Ruthie died, Matty didn't see anyone for a whole month. I gentley tapped Matty on the shoulder. He jumped a mile high and turned quickly. I kicked the door shut behind me when I saw that there were tear streams running boldly down his face. His bottom lip started to shiver and he inhaled sharply as I took a seat on the bed next to him. Seeing him like this broke my heart. Matty was like my older brother; he always looked out for me. Even more than Jeffy did, because he was older. It was Matty who taught me a lot about wresling; he didn't really get in me into the high flying range, but he taught me, none-the-less.

One time, we were upstate and I was shoved off of the top turnbuckle. I fell and twisted my ankle really badly. I ended up breaking it later in the match by trying to do a snapmare. Whoever the other wrestler was, turned to try and reverse it, and I landed wrong and it snapped in two places. Matt carried me all the way to the car and drove the whole thirty miles to the nearest hospital to get it checked out. He missed his match and got fined for "skipping out on everyone". It was a five hundred dollars.

He pulled me in close to him so my head was resting on his chest. It wasn't until then that I started crying. I couldn't help myself, the tears just poured down my face and I had no control over myself. Matt rubbed my back and pushed my hair out of my face. He told me that it was okay and that he was here. I knew he would be, he always was. If I could find my voice, I would tell him that I should be the one consoling him, but I had somehow lost my ability to speak in the last five minutes. Matt silently joined me in on my crying and his wet tears fell into my hair.

"I just...I miss him, you know?" he said after about ten minutes.

I nodded, "Me, too, Matty."

"It's gonna be weird with out him."

"I know."

There was another long silence.

"You think he knows how much we miss him?" I asked silently.


"He watchin' us?"


"How d'you know?"

"He loved us." Matt answered simply.

"Then, why?"

Matt bit his lip, knowing I was meaning why Jeff did this to him, why he did this to us, a better question.

"I guess...I guess he just didn't think he could go to anyone or-or turn his life around. I think he thought it was the only way out."

"But, why?"

"When I figure that out, Shanny, I'll tell ya."

Matt pushed a strand of hair out of his face as it stuck to the tear streaks down his face, "I haven't been in his room yet."

"I didn't think ya would."

"You wanna go with me?"

I didn't really want to let Matty down, but I didn't really think I was ready to go see the place where Jeff once slept in. I mainly didn't want to let Matty down, so I agreed. The short little one-minute trip up the stairs seemed like forever and when we pushed the door open slightly, it felt like it weighed a million pounds. Needless to say, we were both dreading what we might find. The bed was still unmade, the clothes were still on the floor, his computer was still on, his desk a mess, and our very first promo cd still played in the cd player. Matt took a few steps inside and picked up a picture off of the nightstand or us three, sitting on the floor.

I took a seat next to him and looked over his shoulder to see which picture it was. It was just us, doing what we normally did, joking around on the trampoline-ring contraption in the backyard. Gil had obviously taken it because I was filming them fooling around on the ring part, and none of us were oblivious to the fact our photo's were being taken. A tear rolled down Matt's face and splashed onto the glass covering the picture in the frame.

"It'll be different." he said.

I nodded, I knew.


That was three years ago, to the day and me and Matt are sitting here in Jeff's bedroom. It looks exactly the same as it did that day when we first went up there after Jeffy died. Matt is sitting on the floor, the picture in his hands, I am next to him, looking over his shoulder. The bed is the same messy way, the floor hasn't been cleaned or tidied, the first promo we ever did played softly in the corner. It's been hard, it's been long, but at least we are getting through it. We still don't know why Jeff did it, we know we never will, we won't know if we had something to do with it, or if we could stop it, but at least there's still a part of him with us and he's with his mother again. I just hope that some day, I'll be able to see him again and find out why he didn't get help. We'll just have to wait and see.