Dear reader,
On the page before this one, I introduced you to my daily life. Now, let's look at some flashbacks, shall we?
I was sitting alone in my room that day. Probably lighting old junk on fire. My mom was gone. My dad was gone. It was just my brother and I , alone in our small house. My brother was 20 at the time and I was 12. My family consisted of alcoholics. So it was common for us to have some type of liquor, beer,ect at home. That evening, my brother decided to drink some Jack Daniels. He drank because he was as angry and sad as I was. Life for the both of us wasn't some kind of walk in the park. It was like walking into boiling fire and rivers of acid and convincing ourselves that we were fine. So there I was, lighting shit on fire snd watching Submarine ;a documentary of Oliver Tate. When suddenly my brother came stumbling into my room. He looked like he's been crying. His eyes weren't necessarily pink, but they were a light shade of red. He mumbled hey and I ignored. He asked if I was okay and my only response was, " Do I look okay? " He ignored me and left my room. My brother knew that I smoked. It didn't bother him. So I lit a cigarette and continued to watch Submarine. Minutes later, I heard a loud noise and got terrified. I opened my door to see my drunk brother crying in the floor. I looked to see what made that noise, and only found that a huge painting on the floor. I slowly walked up to my sobbing brother. I stood in front of him asking what was wrong. He screamed. I asked him if he was alright, which was a bad idea. " I told you to leave me alone, you rat!" I remember him throwing a chair at me and then he started punching me.
Then I knew nothing more.
Sincerely,
Alex
