The Reason

The Reason (Original)

Silence. The tick of the clock echos through out the hall. My arms are cuffed behind my back as the authorities escort me away. I turn my head and there’s my mother. Her face angered yet terrified as she curses me with her voice pained and hoarse from crying. Her voice become quieter as they drag me farther away and into the distance. As I leave the court room I know what everyone’s thinking, they hate me. They wonder how I could do such a thing, but I’m inoccent. I lied in the court room today, claiming that I actually did something so terrifying to someone of my own flesh and blood, but I had to do it.

           

            If I hadn’t I’d find myself back at square one, going to the hospital every other week and lying about some accident I had when really it was no accident at all. It was no accident all those times when mother took the broken beer bottle and threw it at me. It was no accident the time she grabbed the sharpest knife in the kitchen and slashed at my body until I was in critical condition and had to be hospitalized for a month. Nothing she did to me was an accident because she blamed me for everything and that was her punishment, her revenge. She’d regret it, but not now, not after it seemed that I’d done something worse. Not when for the first time, I actually was the one to blame.

           

            I hated that woman with every fiber in my being but at the same time I loved her no matter what she did to me. Things with her hadn’t always been terrible, she used to be so loving and caring. I used to consider her my most favorite person in the world. Her and dad meant everything to me. I loved the joyous weekends we used to have, going to fair, getting ice cream and just enjoying each other’s company. My parents were so in love back then, you would’ve thought they were perfect soul mates, but things changed. Life took over and our world turned upside down.

           

            I sigh as the authorities open up the cell and push me in. Turning around I look up in enough time to see the digusted face of one of the authorities as he spit on the ground I’d just previously walked on. He glared at me once more before leaving me completely alone. It was dark and cold inside that cell but people like me didn’t deserve light or warmth or any kind of comfort. The only comfort that could be found in the cell was the small window as the miniscule sunlight shone through it. That sunlight was about the size of any hope or justice that I had or would receive. Those things were so small but I didn’t need them. I didn’t need justice or hope nor did I want them not for what I was doing.

            I was sacrificing myself for justice. Not the justice of me but the justice of others. There was someone who needed out more than I did and it was my brother. I watched him, he was there the whole time, every time my mother did something to me. I watched him grow up seeing my mom hurt me and destroy me. He sat there watching, crying and begging for her to stop and she never did. I watched him as he slowly succumbed to mom’s ways, they only ways he’d ever known. He started to become like her, angry, mean, and abusive. He thought the only way to express himself was to hurt people because he knew of no other way. I tried to change him, to make him understand that there were better ways but there was not much I could do unconscious in a hospital bed.

           

            It saddened me to think all this happened because of me and the only thing I could pathetically utter was sorry and I was. I was sorry that my brother was the product of a rape that I couldn’t stop even though it happened just a few feet away from me. I was sorry that because my mom got pregnant my dad thought it was infidelity and left her. I was sorry that because of me my mom developed a drinking problem and resulted to abuse. I was sorry that because of me my brother had to grow up in a dysfunctional home. I was sorry that my mom and brother had to be the victims. It had been all my fault and now I was paying the price, I was sacrificing my life for there’s. That’s why I did it, that’s why I did everything.

            That’s why I faked my brother’s murder to get him away from my mom and to keep him safe with foster parents that I knew would love him more than my mom or even I could. That’s why I lied in the court room today and told them that because of my mother's abuse, I murdered my brother. That’s why my mother had now been sentenced to rehab and why I was sitting in a jail cell to await my death. Simply because I deserved it, I deserved all of it. I had to do it for them, the people I cared about the most. Because I was the reason, I had been all along and now I was accepting the blame and the punishment.  I was truly sorry that I had caused so much pain to my family, I never meant to. I was sorry that the world didn’t give second chances to people like me. I was sorry that I could save everyone but myself.

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