Sickness

My brother didn't know that I was dying.
none of this is his fault.
only I knew I was dying.
slowly being strangled by suppressed feelings I had locked away.
I thought I was being strong.
I was just losing it.
I thought I could hold out, until that night.
It was the same as all the other nights.
brother had done dinner, because I cant cook to save my life.
mom taught him how to cook.
I walked downstairs and gave him my well-practiced fake smile. he was handsome now.
he looked like dad.
I was hiding my hands. for some reason I couldn't get the red off them tonight.
terrin and kit were there too. my brother and I had grown up with them, raised by their grandfather. they were smiling too.
it looked so perfect.
my insides seemed to be bent on twisting themselves into knots.
it was so perfect.
I was so evil.
a filthy cockroach in the middle of a wedding cake.
a blood stain on white table cloth.
it was so perfect I wanted to destroy it.
so perfect I wanted to die.
I continue walking, the smile plastered on my face.
I felt something dripping from my eye.
brother saw it and his grin faded.
my legs failed me, and I was on the ground.
brother and the other two rushed over, trying to do something to help.
I coughed blood out, still smiling and crying.
my arms and legs began to twist and flail wildly.
was this a spasm? a seizure?
or something else...?
I laughed like a madman and continued withering on the ground.
my wide eyes met my brothers.
mine wide in insanity.
his wide in horror.

~

I woke up tied to a hospital bed. brother was asleep in a nearby chair.
surely he had seen the red stains on my hands?
I felt drowzy and groggy.
sedation of some sort, so I wouldn't hurt myself.
everything was white in here. even my brother was wearing white.
he woke up and gave a weak smile. "you feeling alright mike?" he asked.
he knew the answer was no.
"did they find out?" I asked.
his pitiful attempt at smiling vanished.
so he knew too.
he knew about the stains.
"why did you kill them?"
I didn't know myself. for some reason, I had decided that killing them would fix things.
or maybe I just needed to satisfy a violent urge that had grown inside me.
I tried to fight the ropes around the bed.
"stop it mike."
I fought them harder.
brother pressed a button on the wall and it buzzed.
a man walked in with a needle.
I knew it was more sedation.
I began screaming and laughing hysterically,
until the the drugs kicked in.
my head fell to one side and my eyes flickered shut.
"you should leave before he gets upset again."
the man.
"I just want to talk to him. maybe he'll adjust to me."
brother.
"I'm sorry sir, but right now isn't the best time for that."
the man.
footsteps leaving.
brother.

~

brother has tried to help me for nearly a year now.
I can see he's crumbling.
one day he comes in with a hurried look.
he's leaving for good.
"mike, I'm talking a little trip. I'll be back later."
a lie.
I nod solemnly.
he turns to leave and I speak.
"the truth."
he turns in surprise.
"what?"
"tell me the truth" I repeat.
brother's eyes fill with tears.
I said the same thing to dad years ago, before he left for the war.
-
he had taken us onto his lap.
we were still really young.
"I'm leaving on a little business trip, ok boys?"
brother had nodded and accepted.
I had nodded thoughtfully.
"the truth?" I had asked.
dad had looked at me sadly, then told us the truth.
brother cried.
i didnt.
my first big suppression of feelings.
how proud I was of myself.
-
brother sobs and tells me the truth.
that he cant handle me being like this.
that he cant handle the pain anymore.
he just needs to leave.
he cries into the sheets of the bed, clutching them like they were his last hope.
I reach my fingers up and touch his hand.
he stills himself and look at me, still sniffing.
"you can leave, like dad did. just promise me you'll come back this time.
come back when I start getting better, because I fully intend to."
he smiles at me and wipes his face with his sleeve.
"yeah. I promise mike. I swear I'll come back."
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