My Severe Brother

ch 36: Stop crying

Peter's pov

He stood up, and I couldn't hold back the rage boiling within me. "And if I don't?" My hand slammed onto the table, the sound reverberating through the room.

"Stop it, Peter. Don't act out like this," his voice was firm, but I wasn't about to back down.

"Or what?" A surge of misplaced bravery surged through me.

"Are you gonna hit me again?" I yelled, challenging the storm.

"Yeah, and if you don't shut your hole up, you are gonna get hit worse." His words cut through the air with a no-nonsense tone, but I refused to be intimidated.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" I bellowed, standing up so abruptly that the chair crashed backward. "Are you crazy? If you have a problem with me, write it on a piece of paper, fold it, and stick it up your—"

"Peter." His voice seethed through gritted teeth, and with it came a storm of threats and warnings. 

But I was engulfed in a red haze, unable to think rationally. "I can't stand it. The way you've treated me—it's unbearable. You've confined me like some damn prisoner, dictating when I can come and go. Cameras stalk my every move, and Luke shadows me. I can't visit my friend's house, meet girls, or even breathe without your scrutiny. You've labeled me with names—trash, lil shit, douchbug. You didn't flinch at reminding me I'm worthless, that you don't care, that you hate me. No hugs, no comfort, just expertly inflicted pain. I thought it would change, that enduring a little would make you different. 'Be a good boy, don't provoke him,' they said. But what have I gotten? Doom and gloom. I can't muzzle myself any longer. You're driving me insane, locking me in this perpetual torment. You're my brother, my sole hope, my only family, but I can't endure it any longer. You're cruel, more like a father, though one draped in hostility. Despite the hate and spankings, I love you. I can't bring myself to hate you. Every lesson and truth I thought I knew unraveled into a web of lies. Yet, amidst the intricacies of falsehood, you emerged as the one, unquestionable truth. Can I... umm... I'm..." The words escape me, leaving a painful void. 

I finished my words, and the courage that fueled me moments ago evaporated, leaving me empty. How I wished it had abandoned me sooner! 

Scared to confront his reaction, I hesitated to look at him. As I summoned the courage to meet his gaze, I was surprised to find an unusual expression—compassion. A rare occurrence in this house.

"Sit down, Peter," he said calmly, pointing to the vacant chair.

Slowly, I collected the chair and took my seat. Petrified, I couldn't predict his next move. Despite my fears, I refused to accept that he harbored no anger toward me. It felt like holding a ticking bomb, uncertain when it might detonate.

Cole reclined in his chair, repeatedly running his hand through his hair, a thoughtful expression on his face. The room was enveloped in a suffocating silence until he shattered it with a commanding tone, "Stop crying." 

I looked up, caught off guard by Cole's harsh comment. It dawned on me that I hadn't even realized I was crying. My face flushed red from embarrassment. How pathetic I must have seemed!

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, aggressively wiping away my tears.

"I have a meeting now. We will talk about it later."

I just sniffled without daring to say anything. He stood up, put his hand on my hair, and ruffled it softly then he left. I went to my room, took a quick cold shower, and then drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I dragged myself out of bed and trudged into the dining room. Cole was absorbed in his iPad, devouring news, and Sofia greeted me with a casual, "Good morning, sunshine."

I mumbled a response and plopped down on my chair, intentionally avoiding eye contact with my brother. The clinks of breakfast dishes filled the air as I mechanically consumed my meal.

Following the morning routine, I followed Cole to the car. The silence between us hung heavy until he finally broke it, "I got in late last night, and you were already sleeping, so I figured I'd let you be. About the party, forget it. No party for you, and this weekend, you're grounded from hanging out with your friends too."

"Why?" I shot back, unable to resist the urge to question his decisions.

"Peter, are you arguing just to push my buttons?"

"Fine, I won't say anything. Can I get out now?" I sighed.

"Yes, let's go," he replied, and we stepped out of the car. I shot him a defiant glare before heading to my class. Today just didn't feel like a day for studying or learning anything.

At home™

In the living room, my brother was busy doing some paperwork. I settled on the couch, flipping through channels after completing my homework when David, our usual pizza accomplice, barged in.

"Hey, Pete," he greeted, and I couldn't help but notice the tantalizing scent of pizza wafting from the box in his hands.

"Hey Dave, pizza like always?" I quipped, already excited about it.

"Yes, babe, come on, let's eat," he declared, and we exchanged a triumphant high-five before diving into our cheesy feast.

As we relished the pizza, the doorbell rang, interrupting our foodie bliss. Curiosity got the better of me, and I wandered over to answer it. A hulking figure, adorned with tattooed arms, loomed on the doorstep.

"Hey, where is Marco Carnell?" he demanded. 

My mind buzzed with questions about this strange. I answered, feeling uneasy,"He's here, just a minute."

I ran to the living room, " Cole, someone looking for you."

"Let him get in," Cole ordered.

I complied, allowing the mysterious man to enter our living room. The atmosphere shifted, tension hanging in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Peter, your room," Cole instructed, a hint of seriousness in his tone.

"Oh, why? Just do your stuff," I retorted, attempting to play it cool, throwing a wink at my brother. But David pleaded with his eyes to just listen to him.

"Peter, please," he implored.

"Ugh, fine," I conceded, sensing an undercurrent of significance in their conversation. 

I made my way to my room, catching a snippet of the stranger's remark about me. "He's a good kid. I like him," the man commented.

To be continued...