A Nights Walk

The fog grew thicker as the man wandered into the cemetery. He had in one hand a bottle wrapped in a brown bag, and in the other a pack of cigarettes. He knew the way to where he was going, so he didn’t need to see his surroundings. He had been out here all too often after the accident. In his mind, their deaths could have been avoided.
He walked under the old willow tree that reminded him of the one parent’s yard, which brought him back to happier times of their youth. The perfect hiding spot for when they were playing hiding and seek. They would laugh after the seekers passed out of sight. The time his first love broke up with him, he hid under it until one of his brothers found him. Their shoulders he could always cry on. Back before that faithful night that split them up, before he was alone.
The cold air sliced into him, making him shiver, reminding him of that night. He remembered seeing the flashing lights of red and blue, people shouting. He saw the site he was heading for. The loud noises of the machine that was being used to pry open the door. He was standing in front of their grave now. Looking down at the two names etched into the reflective surface of the marble. Hands gently pulled him out of the car. He felt a sharp stab of pain, as something was placed against one of his wounds. He opened his mouth to shout about his brothers that were still in the car. He took a cigarette from the pack, placed it to his mouth, and lit it. “Don’t worry, you will be all right.” He heard someone say as they stuck his arm with a needle that eased the pain.
He took the cigarette from his mouth and placed it on one side of the tombstone, under the name of his younger brother, who loved to smoke any chance he could get. He woke up a few days later, his body still aching from the crash. His parents were there waiting for him to wake up. Without having to ask, he knew he was alone. He untwisted the top of the bottle, thinking back to how he could have prevented this. He knew his brothers were not in any condition to drive, if only he would have drove that night, they would still be here now. He turned up the whiskey bottle and poured it on the tombstone. After it was half empty, he placed it under the name of his elder brother. Looking down at their names, he whispered, “I miss you guys. You don’t know how much it hurts with you guys not here.” He laid down the pack of cigarettes and walked back towards the gate.