Breach, Always In Memory.

by I am Memorial

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Slice of Life, Human, Sad
Length: 3234

A memorial story.

This is the story of my friend 'Breach'. Obviously this wasn't his name, but this was the name of his account.
This story is a memorial to a damn good friend and a damn good story writer. I was requested by note to be his memorial, to never let him fade, and I'll be damned if I allow myself to fail.
This is the story of a friend, who despite all his troubles, never, never hesitated to aid a friend, or to set his own problems aside in lieu of aiding someone else.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-23 01:45:34 UTC

In Memorium

"Fuckin' Irish! Always after mah drink!" Breach laughed, drawing on his old Scottish accent.

"Hey man, I'm only after your drink 'cause your mum had an after taste!"

It was a stupid joke, and normally he hated when anyone insulted his family, but we were practically brothers. I'd known him for most of his life, and he knew I was joking.

He laughed uproaresly at this when his face twitched and he started coughing.

"Oh yeah, sorry, forgot about your pnuemonia." I apologized.

His coughing continued, then seemed to get worse. I looked at his face to find it screwed up in pain as his coughing grew worse. I immediatly yelled for a nurse. I looked back to find him clutching at his chest, and in another fit of coughing his lap suddenly found itself covered in blood. My eyes grew wide as saucers as I turned back out the doorway and screamed for a nurse. As the doctors rushed in I yelled for him to be okay, I yelled for him to know that I was there.

He even managed to wave his hand dismisively, a gesture that he'd perfect in school that said 'I'll be fine, just give me a minute.' before he was rushed out of the room.

He was a truly good guy. Bit of the quiete type when I first met him. It was back in fourth grade. I was new, and he had only been here for the year before. He avoided talking because of the taunts he got for his accent.

The kid was Scottish, and while later in middle school his accent would've been the talk of the girls, it served as little more than something for most of the kids to laugh at.

He didn't let it get to him, now to where you could see it anyways. I mean his eyes would harden and he'd obviously get annoyed, but he didn't really explode or yell. Just took it in stride. I respected that, I would yell at them to shutup, or go tell a teacher at that age, but he just let it roll off his back.

It wasn't until a year later that we started hanging out. His bullying had gotten worse, but he ignored it and always smiled when me or his other friend was around, and he never let his anger slip through. Well, no he definitely let it slip through, but only if me or his other friend got made fun of. We became targets for hanging out with him. I didn't care too much though. If he could deal with it then so could I, and there was no way I'd give up on him because a few kids didn't like him.

Things got worse because kids/teens are insensitive asswipes, and 'Breach' found himself in alternative school after a stay in a teen mental health care facility. It was crap. He had simply been cutting a peice of paper when a kid insulted his dad. Don't get me wrong, 'Breach' hated his dad at that age, and after meeting him I could understand why, he wan't the best idea of a father figure, granted his mom didn't help much either.

But hey, that was him. He could run his mouth off at his family all he wanted, but thats because it was his family. He honestly never said much bad about them anyway, granted he never said anything good about them. I tried broaching the subject once but it got him a little pissed so I let it drop.

Anyway the kids insulted his dad and 'Breach' stood and turned around and told the kid to shut up or he'd beat the crap out of him. He then dropped the scissors and stormed out of the class.

The little jerks used this as leverage to get 'Breach' sent to alt. school and could only return if he got his mental health checked.

I didn't see him for the rest of the school year(about three months) or over summer. But low and behold if he didn't come walking in through those doors on the first day of the next year. I don't know what I had expected, or why, but 'Breach' was the same guy I'd known when he left. When I asked him how he was, and what happened, I'll never forget his answer, "I got a chance to help people, and I took full advantage of it."

I was stunned, here he was, with every reason to hate the world, and he was pleased because he got to help other people.

Course I was also stupid at that age and never saw how much of a toll it all took on him.

High school was rough as hell, not for me though, but for 'Breach". The bullying got worse and even some subtitutes and teachers partook in taunting him. I found it disgusting, but was also awed by the fact that he never seemed to bow or break under the pressure.

Anytime I asked if he wanted to talk, or suggested it he'd wave me off with this signature little hand movement and tell me he was fine.

It wasn't til I told him  to stop telling me that it was fine beacuase I knew he was lying when I got a real answer out of him. It wasn't anything I'd ever forget.

You ask what's wrong. YOU OF ALL PEOPLE ASK WHAT"S WRONG! The tone itself was heartrending. You've known me longer than anyone else here, and you've known me longer than anyone one else I know. My family doesn't count, they don't know me. This school doesn't know me. Nobody knows ME! Oh yeah they know of me. My mother, who crushingly tries to steer me away from being like my dad, or my dad who is disgusted at me because I might be like my mom. These kids at school harrasing me all day, every day! I don't get a break man, I get broke. Everyday I deal with these idiots and never once do I get a day off. Even the teachers and our principal join in half the time, hell the bastard even mocked me at a pep rally. Then there's you. The way he said this, pointed me out, was chilling. I was honestly scared. You have all these friends, you have your bandies, and your basketball buddies. You don't need me. You would be better off without me. Just.....stay away from me.

I was speechless. I'd never seen him go off before, not like that anyway. I was older now though, and I heard the loathing in his voice as he talked about me. But it wasn't loathing directed at me, it was self directed. He hated himself for any and all trouble I'd ever gone through on his behalf. He blamed himself, and merely wanted to distance me, his only friend, to protect me. My mind flashed back to him telling me that he got the chance to help people on that first day of eigth grade.

I ran to catch up with him and replied with a simple 'no'. My mind was set. If he could ignore the way he was treated because he wanted to help others, so I'd be damned if I didn't do the same for him.

Eventually he left towards the end of our junior year. He said it was because of deaththreats towards himself, and he'd definitely recieved them, but I knew better. He'd waylaid a kid for threatening me a few weeks before. The kid had told me that if I wanted to hang with trash I'd be thrown out with it too. It was then that I heard the smash and realized 'Breach' had smashed the kids face into a locker. He stood over him and told him that if he had a problem, then it was with him, not his friends.

I thanked him of course, but when he disappeared from school and then told me he was tired of the bullying I immediatly realized he'd left because I'd been threatened. Damn he was one good son of a bitch.

He was right though, as loath I am to admit it. When he left I immediatly stopped being harrased. I kept contact with him. He was with his dad(which I felt bad about) and was going to a new school.

He was also a lot more upbeat, and he told me of the friends he was making. I was honestly happy for him. He deserved friends.

I always made the off hand quote "If we all got what we deserved...." implying we'd all go to hell(I'm a Christian) but I could never apply this to 'Breach'. He was just so different. He didn't care about himself as much as he did other, and couldn't stand injustice. Looking at it now I realize he would've made the best president.

Ofcourse it didn't work out for him. It hit me hard too, when I found out what happened. Through the summer he'd lost about 5 or 6 friends to various reasons and he went back to living with his mother for senior year.

We hung out whenever we could, and he was a bit more vocal when he was having problems, but he tried to hide it in 'stories'.

Oh yeah, I heard that this musician had a friend that brought him out of deppression and then his friend passed away.

He was subconciously reaching out for help, and it hurt me to know that I had no knowledge on the subject, but that was ok.

He knew this girl, Lissa. She became closer to him than I ever did(and we were practically brothers) and helped him get through so much. We all became fast friends(with them being a little bit more) and 'Breach' definitely grew to be a lot happier.

Despite all this, 'Breach' still felt that he had to not let his family down. Despite my very polite upbringing though, I couldn't help but think his family needed to go screw themselves. It was his life and they were mucking it all up.

Their stupid opinions eventually prussured him into joining the Marine Corp. and it was disasterous.

While in bootcamp 'Breach' suffered from a partially torn shoulder muscle, fracture in both shins and his right ankle and knee cap. He also broke his hand(something about 4th and 5th meta-somethings). While he recovered from these physical injuries easily enough, he was mentally and emotionally destroyed by the death of Lissa, who was struck and killed by a drunk driver when she attempted to send him a Valentines card on February 14th.

This led to him sinking into depression and being rsp-ed for medical reasons from boot camp.

When he got back we hung out once or twice, but I could see the difference in him. He no longer tried to pretend he was happy around friends, he no longer tried to help others either. I can't say i blame him for it. He'd had a rough enough life, and everytime it got easier, it just got ripped away, leaving a larger wound. He stayed like this for much of the past year, and a month ago grew worse.

Lissa's birth day was May 7, and it drew near.

It was about this time I started to notice a positive change in 'Breach'. He started to smile again, to lighten up. He laughed, and to hear it was amazing. He talked animatedly of a website, one that let him write stories, and one that had beautiful stories in it. I just took him for his word. If he was happy, and it was a websites doing, I wasn't going to disagree.

I watched him grow again. He found a purpose, a reason to be happy, and it filled me with joy to see my brother in such high spirits.

He got sick, but wasn't worried about it. He laughed it off as if he didn't care, and I could tell he didn't. I didn't know exactly what had happened, but I was glad for it.

He wound up having a bad bit of pnuemonia, but he was still happy.

I remember him telling me earlier today of a kid that had cancer. He said the kid wasn't going to make it, but still stopped by to make sure everyone had a nice day. I could see it had struck a chord in him.

The day wore on and we had such fun, laughing and talking and just enjoying what life had given us.

I couldn't help but become slightly curious when he mentioned what life had given us, so I asked him what life had given him.

Insights Irish(a nickname due to my red facial hair, despite having brown hair). I have been given the insight to help the world. Even with how my life has gone wrong, I pushed throguh and became stronger for it. I need to help people and I plan on doing just that.

It was amazing, and I could see he meant it. That it wasn't a hollow noise made to cover up great pains, that it was the joyous sound of a 20 year old man who'd found his place in life and was ready to begin it anew.

He reached into a basket beside him and pulle dout a bottle of Irn-Bru.

It was a scottish soda that he'd gotten for me once, and I knew that one of his grandmothers had sent it.

He took a couple of drinks before placing it down. I reached over, knowing he wouldn't care, and took a drink my self.

"Still as good as ever 'Breach'."

Course he got this grin on his face.

"Fuckin' Irish....."

Well as you can see we've come full circle.

I sat in the waiting room for about 4 hours straight when the doctor came out.

"Well, 'Breach' seemed to have a tear in one of his lungs. Did he get hit by anything? Was he in a fight? Anything like that?"

I shook my head at first when I remembered that he would go out 'urban exploring' in old industrial areas like Lissa used to do. He'd probably fallen while he was there. I shook my head though, I didn't want him veiwed as a dilinquent.

"Is he okay though. I mean, you just sewed him up right."

It was then that the nurse came in and said the worst thing imaginable.

"Doctor, we've notified the deceased's next of kin."

The doctor scowled at her, and then she noticed me. She muttered a quick apology and took off when the doctor addressed me.

"I'm sorry, but we didn't know what to look for at first. We scanned for anything pnuemonia related first, and by the time we found out it wasn't pnuemonia related the damage was done. I'm sorry but your friend didn't make it."

I felt hot tears fill my eyes hearing this. They built up in the corners until the spilled over. It wasn't fair. He was finally so damn happy, so ready for this world and it wasn't fucking fair! He'd shouldered everything bad to come his way without hesitation and his reward was to die the minute he was happy? It wasn't right, it still isn't right, but it's what happened.

It was then that a nurse came out to me, holding a peice of paper.

"I believe this is for you." was all she said as I took the paper from her.

"Hey Irish.

Listen, the docs said that they were trying to figure this out. I don't know if I'll pull through so do something for me.

Don't let me go out unnoticed. I still want to help the world. Don't be sad either. I can't stand to upset a friend.

Keep my stories in check too.

Also, i want you to speak at all my memorial funeral event things.  You're the only living person who knows about the real me.

Find love, find friends, and enjoy life, mate!"

After that were various username's and passwords for his laptop, and different websites.

I pocketed the note, realizing that I had been entrusted with something of far more value than anything in the world. I held the very key to my friends entire existance in my pocket.

I held his memory for him.

I was his Memorial.

Bow-Ayn trotted through the clouds, much like she did everyday. She called "hullo's" out to everypony she passed as she went.

She was headed out to a small course she'd built, similiar in use to the old industrial areas she used to explore. She nudged a few ledges here or there with her hooves. She'd done this every week for the past year and a few months, altering her course here or there, making a gap wider for more fun. Stuff like that.

As she went through the course she suddenly found a very familiar cloud shape.

It was set up like the roof of the warehouse were here and 'Breach' had spent hours staring at the moon. She remembered that she had been the only one other than 'Breach'. Bow-Ayn went and sat down on the edge of the roof, hooves dangling off the edge as she swung her legs. She could almost imagine 'Breach' next to her, staring with those loving eyes, reaching over to sweep her up in his hooves. It was then that she realized that she had been, infact, swept up. Opening her eyes and twisting around she found none other than 'Breach' himself.

She fell against him, nuzzling his neck.

Exchanging 'I love you' the two ponies trotted of into the cloudscape, together, forever.

Author's Note: After reading through some stories saved on 'Breach's Laptop I realize that there are people that need shout outs. People who need my thanks for aiding my friend discover inner peace and happiness before his passing.

First is 'coolstorybrony' for his story Against All Odds:Make A Wish. Breach's note implies that you helped him realize that noone can go it alone. Next I'd like to thank 'theswimminbrony' for his story The Things We Leave Behind. Breach makes it quite clear that you helped him overcome the loss of Lissa, and you also helped me after I read your story.

Finally there is a line from a story called Eternal by 'device heretic' it reads 'to many good people withering away because they don't stop and enjoy themselves.' I don't know what it means exactly but it was what he had written down.

I of course owe Breach everything I've got. I based half my life on his actions. His never breaking strength.

Also I had to add the 'ponyfied' bit at the end to pass moderation. I did not have prior knowledge of this so I apologize. I thought the human tag would clear it. Ah but there is a ponyfied part now. I am sure that my friend is probably spending his time in that exact same way, with his girl.

Finally I'd like to thank everyone who read any of my friends stories, and that I will do my best to finish them as per Breach's request.

Rest in Peace Brother, and may You find yourself in the loving wings of those who await you.