In Motion, Some Action, and Sweet Mario
Short story about tragedies and accidents
I’m ready to go in. I dip my toes first, then I let my body slowly sink in the cold water of August. I find myself floating gently while the water is dancing around my neck. I was absorbing the heavy smell of the lake, invading my soul with appeasement. I was thankful for the silence of the water: the seal of the confessional.
I got out of the water, the sky was troubled. I sat down on my towel and tried to read some pages of the last bestseller my mom gave me. I couldn’t really get into it, I was tired of these same old plots. My brother had a Gameboy Color at that time. The yellow one: he’d always mention the color, since he was so proud of it. He was obsessed with this little screen from the very beginning of the morning until night-time. He’d never let me touch it. I peaked a look at my brother: he was heavily immersed in the Marco Polo game that was going on down there.
The minute I opened the game, I saw that my brother was a good player. He’d redo entire worlds of Mario just to beat some records. I was barely able to move my character fast enough, so I had to rerun the same fight. I was completely determined to win this battle. And I did, but that’s not much of an astounding statement. As soon as I defeated it, I turned my eyes back in the water. I couldn’t see my brother anymore, but I didn't immediately panic. I probably should have.
I got down by the lake and started to walk across the beach, yelling his name, but he didn’t turn up. Someone called the police, I felt this unspeakable fear. I was supposed to take care of him, and I failed. I lost him, I killed him. A police officer came to me and recommended I leave the beach and go back to my family with “Mario” his colleague. Hearing this name chilled me to the bones, I was the sinner.
My heart was beating harder than I ever felt as I saw my home getting closer. I was obviously in shock, and I couldn’t bear the burden of this terrible fate. I let my brother down while he was drowning. I was busy on this bloody yellow Gameboy Color. I should be accused, at least, of negligent homicide. I got eighteen in May. I said that to Mario as he was accessing our driveway. Mario nodded silently. I was returning the Gameboy to my mother as a proof of his death, his urn. Mario was by my side while he was informing my parents that my brother has passed away in the lake.
I can’t even describe the scene that happened after this painful sentence. The loss of a child is probably one of the most difficult events you’ll face in your entire life. And I felt guilty to impose that to my parents. They both died a few years later as my brother’s death exhaust them from inside.
I was the only one left to carry the coffin.
And Sweet Mario
The predetermination is the idea that everything was already caused before they happen. It was all arranged way before my brother’s death, way before the Gameboy was even created, maybe. That idea made it a little bit easier for me to deal with the pain of losing my family.
I kept the yellow Gameboy in his remembrance, but I’d never turn it on again. It’s the last game he and I ever played that is still in the machine and I like it that way.