The 158° Plague (The Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 10:Everybody Has A Past...

Ryan's POV

I remember it like it was yesterday.... Even though it was 8 years ago. One of the reasons I think I remember it so clearly is how nice it was that day. It was a shocking 77°F, and I know that seems like freezing I-need-to-get-my-winter-coat-weather. But in little old Youngstown, Ohio you learn to appreciate weather like that.

So it's a beautiful day. I decide that Dylan would probably love to go to the park since it's so nice out. Plus all the kids from his school hang out there. (He's still in middle school at the time, cause we are 4 years apart.) He usually can't go because Dad wants him to work on math (he really sucks at math) but, I asked, and Dad said yes. So he's gonna be so happy, and excited to go I think to myself.

I go over into his room, and find him furiously working on his language arts essay. I say, "Dylan guess what? I asked Dad if you can go to the park with me, and he said you can.". That causes him to immediately look up. I expect him to be happy.... but, I can't believe it; I see shock. Like he's mad at Dad for saying yes.

A second later he squeeks out, "Of course he did.... That's great let's go play some football or whatever. It's been ages since I've been there!". I figure he probably thinks it's because I asked, and Dad always says yes to me. I get that it sucks having an older brother that always has to watch you, and stuff like that.

Well anyways we walked to the park since it's only a street over, and down a block. I saw kids that go to Dylan's middle school, and I pointed them out to him. The kids immediately saw Dylan, and waved him over. I thought well I'll go sit on a swing or whatever he probably doesn't want me hanging out with him, and his friends. You know because that's so lame if you're hanging out with your older brother only. You know instead of some actual friends.

I was just quietly sitting there until I saw one of the kids push Dylan to the ground, and not a sole moved to help him up. I figured he doesn't want me defending him too above all the other things I do for him.... But then I saw my little brother on the ground completely defenseless. No one helping him, or even cheering him on to kick their asses. Just my poor defenseless little brother on the ground crying begging them to stop punching, and kicking him.

So I stood up, ran over barked to the bullies, "Back the fuck up, or I'll make you!". Dylan was still crying his eyes out, or well trying because I just noticed that they are both swelled shut. He slowly told me how those kids have always been this way to him, and that's how he got all those bruises. He basically told me that those kids have done that to him, since kindergarden. I wanted to cry myself after he finished.

Then I got him fixed up, and we came back to the park to sit on the swings, and just talk. I mean we are brothers, and I thought I knew him. But apparently I don't know the 1st thing about him. He told me all about him, and I told him all about me. For the first time since Dylan was born I understood why I had to protect him because that's my job. To protect my little brother became my life's work after that happened.

An hour later we were just talking, laughing about stupid things because we had honestly ran out of things to talk about. Then I heard a gun shot, told Dylan to get up that we were leaving only to find him lying on the ground. I looked across the street, and saw the kid that kicked Dylan in the ribs, who I pushed out of the way because he thought he was gonna be a smart ass, and stand there defiantly in my way. That kid stood there with a smirk on his face, and a 9mm. Gun in his hand, while Dylan lied there under the swing slowly bleeding to death.

I dropped down next to him, and said, "Dylan! Dylan look at me, you gotta stay awake. You can't go to sleep buddy, because there's a chance you might not be able to wake back up...... Okay your gonna be okay, because I'm gonna take care of you. That's my job buddy, and I sure as hell ain't gonna fail now.".

I took my sports jacket, and layed it under his head like a pillow, and took out my dew rag, and used it to stop the bleeding. I looked back up, and across the street. I saw the kid that shot my little brother walk back in his house, like nothing happened. I felt my blood boiling but, right now I gotta take care of Dylan nothing else matters.

I picked him up, and carried him home. Then I called 911, and said, "My brother he's been shot! I need an ambulance now, my address is 27 South Winchester Avenue. Please hurry, I can't let him die.... he's my little brother.". The lady said an ambulance was on it's way now. 

I thought to myself I'll tell the cops, they'll arrest the kid who shot Dylan. I mean the have to right? It's their job, to arrest people who commit crimes. But when the ambulance came to get Dylan, the cops asked me if I saw who shot him I said, "Yes I did. I don't know his name but, I can show you where he lives.". They told me to take them there I did, and I pointed out the kid through the window. They looked at eachother, then finally one decided to speak up after whispering back and forth furiously for a minute straight practically.

They told me that I was wrong, that he was the Mayor's nephew he would never go to jail for that. And that most devastating of all he wouldn't even pay for the hospital bill, at the least. We couldn't afford to pay that bill! He even said We had to stay away from him, not the other way around. I called Dylan, and said for him to come home. And that I would take care of his wound.

Then I went home found Dylan washing his arm where he got shot. I said, "Hey Dylan I'm sorry that I have to take the bullet out of you. I wish we could've just gone to the hospital,& got it taken out. Here," I handed him a bottle of whiskey, "You're gonna need that. Drink up. But save some for cleaning it,& the stiches.".

He slowly agreed. Drank 1/3 of the bottle,& then I quickly yanked out the bullet. He cringed but, I knew it would've felt a hell of a lot worse without the booze. I stitched him up,& told him that I'd be back in an hour... That I had a chore to do.

Then I went to the Mayor's nephew's house, and I beat him. I called him every name in the book. Then hell I threw a book at him. I had a mask on the whole time, and used my cell phone to change my voice. They never found out until I turned myself in when my brother was 16. They all said I was crazy, a murderer... The kid finally woke up just last year.

But I'm not crazy, I'm not a killer, I'm just a protective older brother........