The autobiography of a woman; by Waldorfia
We returned to the cabin that evening and talked most of the night away. The light of a hurricane lamp lit up his handsome face. It had been a wonderful day. Jason excused himself to use the bathroom. I took the opportunity to look around the cabin.
There was a framed picture of Jason on a yellow motorcycle. I picked it up to take a closer look. It wasn’t Jason – – – – – – it was Alex!
I was in shock. Jason exited the bathroom and perceived that something was drastically wrong.
“Are you OK?” he asked.
“Who is that on the motorcycle? I responded.
“My brother Alex” he answered. “He’s gone. Suicide.”
“Take me home – – – NOW!” I demanded.
I could not admit my guilt to Jason. We rode home in silence.
I was never able to speak to Jason again. Jason never spoke to me either.