Wishes In The Dark - A Peterick Fanfiction

Two

All the way to Wilmette, I look out the window and cry.

I am not going to miss my Mom, but I feel so horribly guilty. Guilty for leaving her. Guilty for not comforting her as she cried. Guilty for making her cry in the first place. Guilty for making her feel like there's something wrong with her. But above all others, guilty for being alive.

Kevin doesn't talk to me for the first five minutes of the journey. When he finally does talk to me, he says: "Cheer up, Pat."

I sniff.

"You're finally leaving her," he says. "You're finally doing what's good for you. You'll join Wilmette High School, you'll make lots of friends, you'll have a great time for the next two years. And you'll live with me in my apartment, we'll order pizza at the weekends and we'll enjoy ourselves. Doesn't that sound better than spending the rest of your life looking after the woman who scorned you for the past four years or so?"

He's right, but I'm not in the mood to talk, so I just ignore him.

About fifteen minutes later, Kevin says: "Are you not gonna talk to me?"

I sigh. There's something that's been bugging me for this whole journey so far. If Kevin wants me to talk, that's what I'll talk about.

So I do.

"I just left her," I say, not looking at my brother. "Out of the blue, I got up and left. I'm no better than our father..."

Kevin's grip on the steering wheel tightens. "Patrick, never say that. You're a billion times better than that man. You always have been, you always will be. Don't think of it as abandoning her, think of it as starting fresh. Like I said, this is good for you."

Pause.

"And if you ever mention that toad of a father again, I'll throw you out the apartment," Kevin says ominously.

I don't think I've ever heard him that serious. I know he won't throw me out, but it's the thought that he's so serious about the mention of our dad that scares me.

After what feels like forever, Kevin pulls over outside a tall brick building which I'm assuming is the apartment block.

"This is it," he says. "Welcome to Wilmette, little bro."

We get out the car and get my suitcase, then Kevin leads me into the building, up three floors in an elevator, and along a corridor until we reach his apartment: 602.

Kevin unlocks the door and steps inside his apartment.

"Welcome to my humble home," he says.

I look around his apartment. It's smaller than Mom's bungalow. It's got a lounge with a little kitchen area, a bedroom, a spare bedroom and a bathroom. It's a bit messy, but I'm fine with that. It's not even my apartment, so I can't complain. I'm just relieved that I'll have a restful night without having to hear my mother cry herself to sleep.

"So you'll sleep in the spare bedroom," says Kevin when he's put my suitcase in the spare bedroom. "And we'll have a nice, cosy dinner tonight. What do you want to eat? There's a supermarket down the road where we can get pizza. Or there's a chicken place if you'd prefer. Or I can just make a pasta thing. What would you like?"

At the moment, I'd just like a hug. So I fling my arms around my big brother and smile.

"Thank you," I whisper.

I'm thanking him for a lot: for being there for me, for sorting things out, for saving me, for taking me in.

Kevin wraps his arms around me and we enjoy this brotherly hug for a while. It's the first hug I ever remember having, and it's definitely the most loving. This is the first time in my life when I actually feel cared for. I'm so lucky to have Kevin as my brother.