Time to Say Goodbye

It wasn’t until half of his bags were next to the door that the situation actually began to sink in completely. All at once, I felt like I was going to cry, and I didn’t understand why. It didn’t seem right – something wasn’t right about this situation. He wasn’t supposed to be growing up. He was supposed to be that annoying fourteen-year old who kept trying to peek in on me during my showers. That’s who Spike was.

I should’ve seen the signs, back when his voice was changing rapidly. I remember the first time his voice cracked, and how he acted as if he didn’t notice. I remember the blush growing on his cheeks, the embarrassment he felt at the changes happening to his body. His childish voice was beginning to change to that of a man, and I barely noticed.

I should’ve seen the signs, back when he was growing taller than me. I remember when he came home from a two week camp, and suddenly, I was looking up at him. I felt odd, truthfully, that suddenly he wasn’t the short, innocent Spike that I could pat on the head. Nobody else found it odd – they all said it was a matter of time. He was an Aldebaran, after all, and with Charlie’s blood? He was bound to be at least a little tall. But as the days passed, he appeared to be growing just as tall as Charlie had become.

I should’ve seen the signs, back when girls began to call the house. I remember noticing he looked a bit different, but apparently, he’d changed right underneath my nose. He wasn’t that big-eyed, short, annoying little boy anymore. He’d grown, developed, become different. His brown eyes seemed to be hiding something all the time; his big, goofy grin turned into a knowing smirk; his annoying nature turning into charm. Goddess forbid, Spike was able to make me blush, and I still hadn’t noticed.

I should’ve seen the signs, back when he was getting ready for prom. I remember feeling a little odd, watching him crack jokes in his tuxedo, his abnormally pretty date at his arm. The blonde haired boy had given me a wink and a nod before he’d turned and left, out to the night, out to a memory I wasn’t a part of.

I should’ve seen the signs, back when he began to apply for college. I remember him asking me for help with the applications, his brow furrowed, his expression serious for once. I’d shook my head at him, shrugged my shoulders, and returned to my girly magazines. College was for smart people. And I, to say the least, was not a smart person.

It wasn’t until half of his bags were packed and ready, sitting next to the door, thrown here and there carelessly, that I realized it. Those mismatched bags were like weights on my chest, making every breath I dared to take more and more difficult. I paused in the hallway, resting my hand against the wall, attempting to catch my breath. To my surprise, I was overtaken by sadness. Spike was leaving.

Spike was leaving.

“Sp… Spike?” I finally found my voice, though it was unfamiliar – weak, tired, scared. I heard movement inside of his room, and a bit of a groan. “Come on in,” he muttered in a distracted tone. Slowly, cautiously, I took that as my cue, and I stood in the doorway, watching the boy I’d learned to tolerate shuffle around the room, gathering dirty and clean clothes alike and throwing them into open bags. His room was becoming empty, and in result, was making me feel empty, too.

“Spike.”

He didn’t look up at me. If anything, he was all the more careful to avoid my gaze. For a while, he didn’t speak – his expression didn’t hold its normal smile, either. “What is it, Kaida?” He finally asked, after a few long moments of silence. And finally, he stood straight up, stopped in his tracks, and stared at me.

He’d changed so much, and I’d barely noticed. He’d grown up, right underneath my nose, and now… now he was leaving me behind, moving on to bigger, better things. He was going to make something of himself, and I was going to stay here, at home, watching the boy I called my ‘little brother’ move into the real world. Those brown eyes of his made my breath catch in my throat; they’d changed, and I hadn’t seen it. His jaw line was sharper, his features so… so different. He wasn’t a little boy anymore.

“You’re leaving,” I muttered helplessly, clinging to the doorframe, feeling tears well up in my eyes. His own eyes lowered to the ground, his expression serious. “Yes, I am,” he only said, and suddenly, he was back to throwing random objects into his bags.

I felt like reaching out, holding him close to me, never letting him go. I didn’t want him to go. I always wanted him to be there, in that house, with me, always. I hadn’t even noticed the changes he’d gone through – apparently, I’d forced myself not to notice. He’d changed, not only in looks, but in personality, right under my watch, and suddenly, I felt like I didn’t know him anymore. It was too late.

“Spike…”

“It’s alright,” he said, his head turning towards me, but his eyes unlifting from the floor. “I’ll send letters, I’ll come home on the weekends-“

“Don’t go, Spike.”

I never, in a million years, expected to say these words to him. Never. I always guessed he’d be right there with me, or else, I figured I’d be as happy as I could be with him gone. He’d come with his older brother, Charlie, to the house years ago, bumming from our family, becoming a part of our family. I resented him at first. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. But now…

I didn’t want him to go.

“Kaida, I’m sorry.” His eyes closed and he stood back straight, his face turning to mine. “I have to go. It’s college. I’m sorry-“

“Please, Spike. Please don’t leave me. Don’t go.” Suddenly, I felt as if I’d do anything – hell, I’d jump from a building, if I had to – just to keep him with me. I’d beg, I’d get on my knees. I just wanted him to stay with me, and we could be a family, just like always. He could get a job here, it wouldn’t be-

“I have to go, Kaida. Don’t do this.” His eyes reopened, and suddenly, he was moving across the room, towards me, his arms outstretched. I shook my head and turned away. No. He was leaving me. He was leaving me behind, while he was going off to college to new friends, to girls, to a better future. I didn’t want to be hugged by him. I didn’t want to be touched.

”Don’t do this,” he repeated, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. I could hear him behind me, but he wasn’t touching me. “Come on. Everything’s going to be alright. I promise I’ll write. I promise I’ll come home. I promise nothing will change between the two of us.” I could hear him, almost feel him, shift behind me, a sigh escaping his throat into the air that suddenly felt too cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, wanting warmth.

Spike wasn’t supposed to grow up. He was supposed to stay that ‘younger brother’ figure, that boy. He wasn’t supposed to become a man. He wasn’t supposed to leave me behind. But most of all, he wasn’t supposed to be in my heart. He’d been so annoying before… why was this so hard, now? He was only two years younger than I was, but he’d always been generously more immature than I was. And suddenly, he was the man, and I was the child.

“Spike,” I muttered again, choking on the tears I refused to cry. “Spike.”

He took my arm and spun me around before I could process what was going on, and pressed my face into his chest. “Shhh,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close to him. As I gasped for air, I could smell a mixture of laundry detergent and peppermint on his shirt. “Shhh,” he repeated, one hand coming up to stroke my hair. “I know. I know.”

I can’t explain how sad, how overcome with desperation I was at that moment. I would miss him, and he knew it, too – I could tell he’d miss me, too, just from the way he was holding me close to him, just from the tone of his voice. “God, Spike.”

“Shhh,” he whispered one last time, and with a free hand, reached around to my chin and tilted my face towards his, leaning down slightly, and for a few breathless moments, I thought he was going to kiss me, right then and there, at completely the wrong time. Instead, his lips brushed against my forehead, and he stopped there, suddenly pulling me into him fiercely, as if he never wanted to let me go. All at once, I felt the tears I’d tried so hard to restrain begin to stream down my cheeks, as I began to give tiny gasps of air. “Kaida,” he said one last time, and I took in one last breath of his scent, before he released me.

It was suddenly as if nothing had ever happened. Though my eyes were full of tears, I could smile at him, though I felt like begging him to stay. He smiled at me, too, his own eyes soft and understanding, and after a few moments of staring at each other like this, he returned to packing his bags silently.

I stepped out of the room, and before I could process what was going on, I was running, full speed, down the hallway, into my room. There, I relaxed against the wall, tears streaming down my face, and slid down into a sloppy sitting position, my head resting against the wall. Spike was leaving. And I couldn’t stop him.

And then, I heard the slam of a car door; I heard his car drive away. Spike was gone. I collapsed in a heap on the floor, sobbing loudly. Spike was gone. And I couldn’t stop him.