Like a Dream

Chapter 2

Every few seconds Brooke could hear the thud of Josh’s fist slamming into the wall and even a few quiet sobs. She silently walked down the upstairs hallway to her parent’s bedroom and stood in front of the mirror that hung on the wall. Brooke’s hands slowly shifted up to the top of the jacket she was still wearing and slowly started unbuttoning each button. As if she didn’t want to hurt it like she was hurt that day.

Once all the buttons were unbuttoned, Brooke pulled her arms out of each sleeve, one at a time. The jacket dropped to the floor with a light thud. Brooke stared at her small frame in the mirror, wanting to scream. No one would hear her. Except for Josh. Most of the neighbors worked during the day, and her parents were probably looking at the corpse, known as Brooke’s sister.

Brooke’s shaky hands ran through her messy, wavy hair. She stared at herself, about to cry. As everything started to sink it, the pain started to get noticeable.

Brooke was shaking as she suddenly turned on her heel, running away from the room, running away from the pain. Brooke ran down the hallway and into her bedroom. Her fingers rushed to unbutton the shirt she had on, fidgeting as she went as fast as she could. Once all the buttons were undone, Brooke pulled her arms out of the sleeves and threw the shirt across the room. As soon as the blood stained shirt was off, Brooke’s breathing steadied, slightly and she froze. She just stood there, her shoulders rising and falling with her abnormal breathing pattern. Brooke slowly walked backwards towards her closet, like she was in a scary movie, not trying to be noticed. She quickly turned around and pulled a random shirt off a hanger and pulled it over her head. Brooke pressed herself against the walls as she slowly slid down it and onto the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest and let her tears fall.

Brooke’s sobs echoed through the empty house and Josh’s punches had stopped. Brooke cried and cried, feeling bits of mascara fall down her cheeks.

“B-Brooke?” Josh quietly asked as he took slow steps into Brooke’s room. Brooke pulled her head up from her lap and looked at her brother, her eyes puffy and red, and cheeks soaked with tears. Josh slowly walked over to Brooke and sat down beside her. Brooke leaned into him and stared at the wall as more and more tears fell down her cheeks. Josh had his knees pulled up to his chest, too, and stared straight ahead, just like Brooke.

Josh hated seeing either of his sisters upset. It hurt him. He just wanted to protect them both, like any normal brother would. No matter how much the three fought, they stuck up for each other. Brooke wouldn’t tell anyone that Josh had cried earlier, and Josh wouldn’t tell anyone that Brooke was crying.

To the Hyland kids, crying was humiliating.  So they’d always make fun of each other when one would. But it just wasn’t the time to crack jokes and laugh.

Brooke’s tears slowly continued to flow down her soft cheeks and splatter onto her light blue, baggy T-shirt, which she’d often wear to bed. Brooke slowly stood up and began to walk out of her room, still crying. “Where are you g-going?” Josh asked, breaking the silence and making Brooke stop.

“Just downstairs…” Brooke whispered, her voice cracking halfway through her sentence. Josh nodded and stood up, not wanting to leave Brooke alone, afraid of what she might do downstairs. Josh didn’t know why, he just thought she’d do something stupid to cause more pain.

Brooke had never thought of doing something like that in her life. She knew lots of kids have, but Brooke always had a bit of hope in her. Hope for the better. Ever since Brooke was little, she was always told that everything would be better, that there’s hope, that love always prevails.

Brooke walked down the stairs and over to the couch where she grabbed a blanket and pulled it around her body as she laid down. Josh followed her down the stairs and sat on a chair beside the couch. Brooke pulled the grey blanket close to her face and felt tears come back into her eyes as she looked at the small, pink, string bracelet sitting on the table. She knew it was Paige’s. It wasn’t hers, and it couldn’t be Josh’s. Josh never wore bracelets. Brooke’s shaky hand reached over to it and she picked it up, pulling it over her wrist. Brooke squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears. Soon enough, the small brunette drifted off into a torturous sleep.