Tyler J. Peterson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tearingloveapart) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2013-11-29 03:39 pm
tearingloveapart) wrote in muserevival2013-11-29 03:39 pm
Entry tags:
Word of the Day 002.
EVOCATIVE
adj. Bringing strong memories, images, or feelings to mind.
It was Thanksgiving, apparently. Tyler had just lost all sense of time and dates. If they said it was Thanksgiving, then it must be. He had distant memories of enjoyable family Thanksgivings in the past, but part of him was wondering if they were just something he had built up in his head. It was a struggle for him to isolate what was real and what wasn’t anymore. At least for now, he had a balance between the better days and the worst. Before, it was all worse.
That was how he came to be standing in the small apartment kitchen with his twin brother. He had accepted that was who Jeremy was, even if he had no recollection of it. He had snapshots of something in his mind, but for so long, he had truly believed the person in his nightmares with his face chasing him was the demons inside him telling him to kill himself. Running from them and wanting to hurt himself had been his escape, and reality was drowned out by what he had constructed to be the nightmare he was living. He listened to Nate on the good days, taking in the information about his condition. He knew he was mentally ill, and it wasn’t just an average mental illness either. It couldn’t be boxed into anxiety, or depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder. It was so complex and intertwined that he just didn’t understand what it was. Yes, it was post-traumatic, yes, it was psychosis, yes, it was depression, and yes, it was amnesia. From there, there were things like paranoid delusion, catatonia, memory loss, mood instability, suicidal intent, substance dependence... the list went on, and on, and on. His medical record must look like a set of Encyclopaedia Brittanica.
But he was trying. He was trying so hard. The good days where the times he could see that he wasn’t just drowning in the darkness that had its cold, vice-like grip around his throat. He had Nate, and Nate was helping him to find ways to, yes, live with what he had, and maybe – just maybe – get back pieces of what they had in the past. Despite the fact he had brought up the topic of sex with him that one time in Central Park, he had never talked about it since. Instead, he was just working on waking up each day and taking it from there.
Then there was Jeremy, who was staying with him and Nate for the time being. He constantly stayed close to Tyler, and for some reason, Tyler’s bad days had lessened. Today was a good day. The three of them spent the day watching old eighties movies, and then Jeremy stayed with Tyler while Nathan went out to get groceries for the Thanksgiving dinner Jeremy was absolutely, 100%, insistent they had to have. He wanted turkey, and he wasn’t going to shut up about it until he got it. It had to be home-cooked, too. Because that was a thing, and they always did it. No turkey sandwich from a deli was going to cut it. In fact, he was so focused on the turkey dinner that Tyler found himself actually amused for the first time in... well, he couldn’t even remember. He couldn’t remember what happy felt like. He knew he had it once, but he lost all understanding of it. To have been sitting there on the sofa with The Secrets of NIMH playing in the background (Jeremy explaining to him that was where their mom got his name from), Tyler had actually smiled a little when Jeremy was talking about the best way to bake potatoes and how the gravy couldn’t be too thick.
With Jeremy recovering from his coma, Nathan was insistent he couldn’t use any sharp implements or heat. The thing about Jeremy was that he was okay. He had this sweet and kind personality and air to him, and he was laid back about things. He could chat for ages about random things, and people would enjoy just listening to him. He had suffered a very serious head injury, however, that kept him in a coma for over a year. Nathan explained this to Tyler, but he never said what actually happened to Jeremy. ‘An accident’ was as far as the explanation went. That was okay for Tyler because that was about as much as he would have been able to handle at this point in time. If Nathan, or anyone, had told him that he was the reason Jeremy had been badly hurt, it probably would have pushed him back into another downward spiral. He had become fond of this other guy with his face, and it would have just been a disaster if there was information overload.
Now the two of them were standing in the kitchen in front of a raw turkey, Jeremy in a frilly apron and food gloves, everything for preparing the turkey spread out in front of him. The head injury meant he couldn’t quite remember what he was supposed to do here with it all, though. He had the eagerness, but logistically, he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to be doing. In the living room, Nathan was on the phone to his sister, and was okay to leave the twins to prepping the turkey, whilst he would be the one doing the actual cooking. Jeremy was standing there with his hands held up facing the turkey’s butt and then he looked at Tyler with a blink. “Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t know what comes next,” he told him and gave the raw turkey a bit of an uncertain poke. He had gloves on too, at Jeremy’s insistence, but it was definitely a case of blind leading the blind... or Dumb and Dumber, as to turkey knowledge.
He waited for Jeremy to make another move, but his brother seemed to think standing there and staring analytically at a turkey’s bum was going to give him all the answers. He waited probably about two minutes of silence and Jeremy’s eyes still locked on the turkey. Tyler was waiting for his next move, but none came, so he just reached for the baster and was going to do... something with it. Something was better than nothing. Jeremy, however, was reaching for a large and very sharp knife, and right when Tyler was saying, “No! Germ! You’re not supposed to—”, there was Jeremy swatting his hand away with a, “No, that bit comes later, Ty!” Then they both froze, eyes wide and looking at each other.
Tyler didn’t know what it was, but something snapped back in his brain right at that very second. Jeremy’s fingers were pressed against the back of Tyler’s hand, but they were both still and just staring at each other. Jeremy was the first to speak. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Germ,” he told him in a very small voice. It was true. Tyler hadn’t called his twin that childhood-born nickname because he didn’t know it. He didn’t remember him, let alone all those little twin things they had built up over the years. Tyler had called his twin Germ as a toddler when he couldn’t get his mouth around the three syllables of his name. It had stuck, and now everyone in the family called him that as an endearment.
Tyler put his fingers up to press hard against his temple. Just like that, without rhyme nor reason, he remembered Jeremy. He remembered him. It wasn’t clear, and it wasn’t even patchy. It was just like someone suddenly picked up the missing piece of his memory and was trying to slot it back into the haphazard puzzle. It was making his head hurt. It was an abrupt headache and the light sin the kitchen felt too bright, but now Jeremy was looking at him in concern and the knife he hadn’t even gotten to picking up was forgotten about. “Ty...?” was the timid and worried query. “Say something... please?”
He didn’t, though. Instead, he just wrapped the fingers of his other hand around Jeremy’s wrist briefly before he moved on to hold Jeremy’s hand. He closed his eyes and there it was. A flash of a memory of them as kids, holding hands... somewhere. He didn’t know where. Holding hands wasn’t something they were taught. From as soon as two weeks hold, they had their hands linked. It kept going, and wherever they went, they held each other’s hands as a link so no matter what happened, they had each other. When one of them was sick, or injured, or hurting, it was one hand reaching for the other. When they were seven and Jeremy fell out a tree his their grandmother told him not to climb, breaking his wrist, Tyler sat next to him holding his other hand and crying with him. The first professional hockey game Kyle played at and won, the twins had grabbed each other’s hands and held them in the air cheering and shouting for this little brother. Then there was a flash of something more dark. They were somewhere with music. Really, really loud music. Flashing lights. There was shouting. He didn’t know what it was, but Jeremy was grabbing his hand really hard that time, almost like a tether or an anchor, trying to pull him back. From there, it was just darkness.
He opened his eyes and looked at Jeremy. His face, his hair, his eyes. He reached up and touched his cheek, sweeping his thumb over his nose and then lips. This was Germ, his partner in crime. Once upon a time, they had been one, and then they were together from the very start. “I let go,” was what he finally said, hoarse and barely even audible. He wasn’t even sure what he meant, but Jeremy did. It was true. The night Jeremy got hurt, during their awful fight, Jeremy had grabbed his hand and held on in a painful grip to his twin who had spiralled completely out of control Tyler was beyond repair that night. He was completely shit-faced on hard liquor and drugs, he had been fucking random guys in bathrooms, even shooting up in the backroom, his arms already haphazardly with track marks. Jeremy had tried to hold onto him that night. He tried so hard to get him to see that he needed help. He had gone into that hellhole to try to save Tyler’s life when everyone else had given up on him, and he had almost been on his knees, sobbing and begging Tyler to come home with him.
But Tyler had let go. He had let go of Jeremy’s hand and shoved him. When Jeremy still had given up on him, he punched him in the face and pushed him so hard away from him, Jeremy had stumbled back into the path of a speeding car. Neither of the twins really remembered it, but Jeremy remembered that much. He remembered trying to get Tyler to come home, and Tyler letting go. After that, there was still a whole lot of nothingness. Tears welled up in Jeremy’s eyes and he bit down on his lip with a slight nod. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a small sob and then pulled Tyler into a soft hug. “But I didn’t.”
Tyler J. Peterson (with Jeremy Peterson) // Original Character // 1,898 words
adj. Bringing strong memories, images, or feelings to mind.
It was Thanksgiving, apparently. Tyler had just lost all sense of time and dates. If they said it was Thanksgiving, then it must be. He had distant memories of enjoyable family Thanksgivings in the past, but part of him was wondering if they were just something he had built up in his head. It was a struggle for him to isolate what was real and what wasn’t anymore. At least for now, he had a balance between the better days and the worst. Before, it was all worse.
That was how he came to be standing in the small apartment kitchen with his twin brother. He had accepted that was who Jeremy was, even if he had no recollection of it. He had snapshots of something in his mind, but for so long, he had truly believed the person in his nightmares with his face chasing him was the demons inside him telling him to kill himself. Running from them and wanting to hurt himself had been his escape, and reality was drowned out by what he had constructed to be the nightmare he was living. He listened to Nate on the good days, taking in the information about his condition. He knew he was mentally ill, and it wasn’t just an average mental illness either. It couldn’t be boxed into anxiety, or depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder. It was so complex and intertwined that he just didn’t understand what it was. Yes, it was post-traumatic, yes, it was psychosis, yes, it was depression, and yes, it was amnesia. From there, there were things like paranoid delusion, catatonia, memory loss, mood instability, suicidal intent, substance dependence... the list went on, and on, and on. His medical record must look like a set of Encyclopaedia Brittanica.
But he was trying. He was trying so hard. The good days where the times he could see that he wasn’t just drowning in the darkness that had its cold, vice-like grip around his throat. He had Nate, and Nate was helping him to find ways to, yes, live with what he had, and maybe – just maybe – get back pieces of what they had in the past. Despite the fact he had brought up the topic of sex with him that one time in Central Park, he had never talked about it since. Instead, he was just working on waking up each day and taking it from there.
Then there was Jeremy, who was staying with him and Nate for the time being. He constantly stayed close to Tyler, and for some reason, Tyler’s bad days had lessened. Today was a good day. The three of them spent the day watching old eighties movies, and then Jeremy stayed with Tyler while Nathan went out to get groceries for the Thanksgiving dinner Jeremy was absolutely, 100%, insistent they had to have. He wanted turkey, and he wasn’t going to shut up about it until he got it. It had to be home-cooked, too. Because that was a thing, and they always did it. No turkey sandwich from a deli was going to cut it. In fact, he was so focused on the turkey dinner that Tyler found himself actually amused for the first time in... well, he couldn’t even remember. He couldn’t remember what happy felt like. He knew he had it once, but he lost all understanding of it. To have been sitting there on the sofa with The Secrets of NIMH playing in the background (Jeremy explaining to him that was where their mom got his name from), Tyler had actually smiled a little when Jeremy was talking about the best way to bake potatoes and how the gravy couldn’t be too thick.
With Jeremy recovering from his coma, Nathan was insistent he couldn’t use any sharp implements or heat. The thing about Jeremy was that he was okay. He had this sweet and kind personality and air to him, and he was laid back about things. He could chat for ages about random things, and people would enjoy just listening to him. He had suffered a very serious head injury, however, that kept him in a coma for over a year. Nathan explained this to Tyler, but he never said what actually happened to Jeremy. ‘An accident’ was as far as the explanation went. That was okay for Tyler because that was about as much as he would have been able to handle at this point in time. If Nathan, or anyone, had told him that he was the reason Jeremy had been badly hurt, it probably would have pushed him back into another downward spiral. He had become fond of this other guy with his face, and it would have just been a disaster if there was information overload.
Now the two of them were standing in the kitchen in front of a raw turkey, Jeremy in a frilly apron and food gloves, everything for preparing the turkey spread out in front of him. The head injury meant he couldn’t quite remember what he was supposed to do here with it all, though. He had the eagerness, but logistically, he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to be doing. In the living room, Nathan was on the phone to his sister, and was okay to leave the twins to prepping the turkey, whilst he would be the one doing the actual cooking. Jeremy was standing there with his hands held up facing the turkey’s butt and then he looked at Tyler with a blink. “Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t know what comes next,” he told him and gave the raw turkey a bit of an uncertain poke. He had gloves on too, at Jeremy’s insistence, but it was definitely a case of blind leading the blind... or Dumb and Dumber, as to turkey knowledge.
He waited for Jeremy to make another move, but his brother seemed to think standing there and staring analytically at a turkey’s bum was going to give him all the answers. He waited probably about two minutes of silence and Jeremy’s eyes still locked on the turkey. Tyler was waiting for his next move, but none came, so he just reached for the baster and was going to do... something with it. Something was better than nothing. Jeremy, however, was reaching for a large and very sharp knife, and right when Tyler was saying, “No! Germ! You’re not supposed to—”, there was Jeremy swatting his hand away with a, “No, that bit comes later, Ty!” Then they both froze, eyes wide and looking at each other.
Tyler didn’t know what it was, but something snapped back in his brain right at that very second. Jeremy’s fingers were pressed against the back of Tyler’s hand, but they were both still and just staring at each other. Jeremy was the first to speak. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Germ,” he told him in a very small voice. It was true. Tyler hadn’t called his twin that childhood-born nickname because he didn’t know it. He didn’t remember him, let alone all those little twin things they had built up over the years. Tyler had called his twin Germ as a toddler when he couldn’t get his mouth around the three syllables of his name. It had stuck, and now everyone in the family called him that as an endearment.
Tyler put his fingers up to press hard against his temple. Just like that, without rhyme nor reason, he remembered Jeremy. He remembered him. It wasn’t clear, and it wasn’t even patchy. It was just like someone suddenly picked up the missing piece of his memory and was trying to slot it back into the haphazard puzzle. It was making his head hurt. It was an abrupt headache and the light sin the kitchen felt too bright, but now Jeremy was looking at him in concern and the knife he hadn’t even gotten to picking up was forgotten about. “Ty...?” was the timid and worried query. “Say something... please?”
He didn’t, though. Instead, he just wrapped the fingers of his other hand around Jeremy’s wrist briefly before he moved on to hold Jeremy’s hand. He closed his eyes and there it was. A flash of a memory of them as kids, holding hands... somewhere. He didn’t know where. Holding hands wasn’t something they were taught. From as soon as two weeks hold, they had their hands linked. It kept going, and wherever they went, they held each other’s hands as a link so no matter what happened, they had each other. When one of them was sick, or injured, or hurting, it was one hand reaching for the other. When they were seven and Jeremy fell out a tree his their grandmother told him not to climb, breaking his wrist, Tyler sat next to him holding his other hand and crying with him. The first professional hockey game Kyle played at and won, the twins had grabbed each other’s hands and held them in the air cheering and shouting for this little brother. Then there was a flash of something more dark. They were somewhere with music. Really, really loud music. Flashing lights. There was shouting. He didn’t know what it was, but Jeremy was grabbing his hand really hard that time, almost like a tether or an anchor, trying to pull him back. From there, it was just darkness.
He opened his eyes and looked at Jeremy. His face, his hair, his eyes. He reached up and touched his cheek, sweeping his thumb over his nose and then lips. This was Germ, his partner in crime. Once upon a time, they had been one, and then they were together from the very start. “I let go,” was what he finally said, hoarse and barely even audible. He wasn’t even sure what he meant, but Jeremy did. It was true. The night Jeremy got hurt, during their awful fight, Jeremy had grabbed his hand and held on in a painful grip to his twin who had spiralled completely out of control Tyler was beyond repair that night. He was completely shit-faced on hard liquor and drugs, he had been fucking random guys in bathrooms, even shooting up in the backroom, his arms already haphazardly with track marks. Jeremy had tried to hold onto him that night. He tried so hard to get him to see that he needed help. He had gone into that hellhole to try to save Tyler’s life when everyone else had given up on him, and he had almost been on his knees, sobbing and begging Tyler to come home with him.
But Tyler had let go. He had let go of Jeremy’s hand and shoved him. When Jeremy still had given up on him, he punched him in the face and pushed him so hard away from him, Jeremy had stumbled back into the path of a speeding car. Neither of the twins really remembered it, but Jeremy remembered that much. He remembered trying to get Tyler to come home, and Tyler letting go. After that, there was still a whole lot of nothingness. Tears welled up in Jeremy’s eyes and he bit down on his lip with a slight nod. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a small sob and then pulled Tyler into a soft hug. “But I didn’t.”
Tyler J. Peterson (with Jeremy Peterson) // Original Character // 1,898 words