Thursday, November 8, 2012

There is no more news.

Even if my hopes and fears are correct (both at once, really), and this is all a really big mistake due to an entirely unreliable narrator and a (literal) game of telephone, wouldn't someone have said something to me?  If I was on the original phone tree, wouldn't I be on the "no, really, it was all a misunderstanding," tree as well?

Or maybe the communication was ordered shut down.  I wasn't supposed to know in the first place, and no one's allowed to tell me, even that, that there is nothing that I ever will know. 

Because, really, I am sure that my mother would want this kept silent.  She would want it kept specifically silent in regards to my father and I.  Information is power.

I don't know what my brother would think.  I don't think he'd care either way.

Red Flag Guy says that I should call the San Diego police department and ask if there have been any calls about a suicide jumper on Monday or Tuesday.  The hospital admittance would be private, but police records wouldn't be.

I want to yell, goddammit, he's my brother.  But it hasn't meant anything before.  I have no right to demand anything because of it now. 

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