It's weird to see Mikael's name scratched into the bark. I didn't approve of them doing it, preferring they didn't harm some innocent tree. But now, I'm kind of glad they did. Seeing his sloppy handwriting is realer than a picture. He touched this, left a mark in a way only he could.
I'm hollow standing before the tree, almost able to imagine every detail about the day he carved his name here. Being in his forest is hard, but standing where he did two years before, looking at his name, is harder.
"Hey, Kitty-Khav." Petr's voice is soft. He stops and stands beside me, nudging me with his shoulder. "You doing okay?"
"Not really," I reply. "I shouldn't be out here with you guys, Petr. I'm totally out of place."
"Yeah you're no fan of camping."
I sigh.
"Mikael would be happy you're here."
"I hope so." Gazing up at him, I look into the face identical to Mikael's. I was always the only one who could tell them a part. Petr smiles and I see sadness in his features.
"He would be laughing his ass off if he heard you were here," he adds.
I roll my eyes, knowing as much. Mikael was the jokester. He used to tease me a lot about being too prissy.
"Baba says you dropped out of school last month."
I shrug. "No worries."
"Katya, if you did it because of the time you spent with me …"
"You're my family."
"I know, but I'm fine and you've got a life to get back to," he reminds me. "I'm not going anywhere. You can go back and get your degree or take more classes or whatever it is you do."
I love him too much to feel burned by his words. If Brianna said something similar, this conversation would go very differently.
"Did you ever figure it out?" he prods. "What you want to be when you grow up?"
"An annoying little sister," I retort.
"Seriously." He nudges me again. "You've spent the past four months worrying about me. I'm worried about you now."
"You shouldn't be. I'm just … me, Petr."
"You could go into child psychology or something. Kids are the only people you get along with."
I elbow him.
"You're good at health stuff, too," he suggests.
"Omigod. I don't need you telling me what to do!"
"Seriously, Kitty-Khav. There's got to be something out there you want to do aside from babysit me. You aren't going to waste your life watching over me," he says firmly.
"I'm not wasting anything," I respond. "I just never knew what I wanted to do. Still don't." It's not entirely true. I used to think I wanted to go into psychology, child or adult, until Mikael died. Now, I don't think I'll ever be able to help other people going through what I have. I can't dwell or see others dwell in the depths of despair and sadness that I have, even if I'm trying to help them.