Brothers
Four years have gone by and you're thirteen now. You've been to countless councilors who attempt to get you to talk about what happened. They say that once you talk about it you can start to heal. But you don't talk about it. You never talk about it. You probably never will. Talking about it hurts too much. Talking about it brings everything to the surface. You've worked too hard burying it down to have it exposed now.
You go through the motions of life without really experiencing anything. You've locked yourself away in your head.
Your brothers look out for you, but you really wish they wouldn't bother. Sometimes you want to kill yourself, but you're not sure that you want to do anything that requires that much effort. You've already hurt your family enough anyway.
You blame yourself for the state of your family. Your father is an alcoholic now, and your mother is almost as much a recluse as you. Your brothers are left to deal with these figure heads as best they can. Mikey makes jokes to hide his pain, but sometimes it's evident. When no one else is around but you, he cries. He's apologized for not saving you countless times. But it wasn't him who did it, it was you. You got in the car. You did this to your family.
The kids at school hate you. Everyone hates you. You can't really blame them either. You hate yourself. Sometimes they shove you into lockers, to the floor, against walls and windows. When they aren't harming you physically they mock you. They are always mocking you. The polite ones simply snicker when you walk by.
Life is hardly worth living.
One day while you are walking home from school with Mikey, two of the bigger kids approach you. They have come to mock you.
"Hey look, it's the mime." One of them says.
"Leave him alone." Mikey tells them.
"He can talk can't he?!" The other boy says.
"Leave him the fuck alone." Mikey says. He's become fond of that word lately.
"Or what?" One of them says. His friend grabs Mikey from behind and restrains him from interfering with what is about to happen. Mikey struggles, but the kid holding him is bigger and stronger.
The boy who talked to you first bends down to meet your eyes. "Why don't you say something?" He doesn't seem to be requesting it but ordering it. "I know you can talk."
You don't say anything. You rarely do. You only speak out of necessity, and pleasing this brute is hardly necessity.
He punches you in the stomach and you feel your breath leave you as you drop to the ground clutching at your stomach. "Say something to me! I want to hear what you sound like." The kid says as he picks you up to stand you back on your feet.
He punches you in the stomach again. "Come on! Say something, kid!"
You glance over to see Mikey struggling to get free, kicking and stomping and jerking his body around. The kid restraining him is too strong, though. And Mikey cannot get free.
"You leave him the fuck alone you fucking shit head!" He keeps saying over and over.
The kid punches you again. You spit up a little blood.
"Say something, you little shit." He says to you. "Say something and I'll stop."
You go through the motions of life without really experiencing anything. You've locked yourself away in your head.
Your brothers look out for you, but you really wish they wouldn't bother. Sometimes you want to kill yourself, but you're not sure that you want to do anything that requires that much effort. You've already hurt your family enough anyway.
You blame yourself for the state of your family. Your father is an alcoholic now, and your mother is almost as much a recluse as you. Your brothers are left to deal with these figure heads as best they can. Mikey makes jokes to hide his pain, but sometimes it's evident. When no one else is around but you, he cries. He's apologized for not saving you countless times. But it wasn't him who did it, it was you. You got in the car. You did this to your family.
The kids at school hate you. Everyone hates you. You can't really blame them either. You hate yourself. Sometimes they shove you into lockers, to the floor, against walls and windows. When they aren't harming you physically they mock you. They are always mocking you. The polite ones simply snicker when you walk by.
Life is hardly worth living.
One day while you are walking home from school with Mikey, two of the bigger kids approach you. They have come to mock you.
"Hey look, it's the mime." One of them says.
"Leave him alone." Mikey tells them.
"He can talk can't he?!" The other boy says.
"Leave him the fuck alone." Mikey says. He's become fond of that word lately.
"Or what?" One of them says. His friend grabs Mikey from behind and restrains him from interfering with what is about to happen. Mikey struggles, but the kid holding him is bigger and stronger.
The boy who talked to you first bends down to meet your eyes. "Why don't you say something?" He doesn't seem to be requesting it but ordering it. "I know you can talk."
You don't say anything. You rarely do. You only speak out of necessity, and pleasing this brute is hardly necessity.
He punches you in the stomach and you feel your breath leave you as you drop to the ground clutching at your stomach. "Say something to me! I want to hear what you sound like." The kid says as he picks you up to stand you back on your feet.
He punches you in the stomach again. "Come on! Say something, kid!"
You glance over to see Mikey struggling to get free, kicking and stomping and jerking his body around. The kid restraining him is too strong, though. And Mikey cannot get free.
"You leave him the fuck alone you fucking shit head!" He keeps saying over and over.
The kid punches you again. You spit up a little blood.
"Say something, you little shit." He says to you. "Say something and I'll stop."