Chapter Five.
Alex P.O.V.
I sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours as my mom cried into my dad’s shoulder and squeezed me to her like a teddy bear, though most teddy bears don’t cry like the world is ending. I still don’t understand what happened. Sure, Miles had hit his head pretty hard on the coffee table but he had gotten back up. He seemed fine when he finally got to me, panting like a sexy beast, still high on the adrenalin. He had asked me to drive us home, so I did, but half way there he fell asleep…or so I thought. When I got home I panicked, nothing I did could get him up, so I yelled for mom and when she couldn’t get him to wake up we took him to the hospital.
They said he passed out due to blunt head force trauma, so now we had to sit here and wait for a man dressed in all white to come and deliver unbelievable news…news I didn’t believe even after he explained it twice.
“What do you mean amnesia; it was just a bump on the head. He was fine!” I screamed and screamed but no one would listen.
“How much, how much does he remember?” My mother asked.
“We can be sure, but he claims he doesn’t remember anything past his 17th birthday party.”
How, how can you just forget four years of your life like that? But I knew the doctor was telling the truth when he finally let us see Miles. The poor boy looked so lost and confused. I guess some nurses were trying to tell him about his memory loss but he wasn’t taking it well. I wanted to jump into the bed beside him, hold him in my arms and tell him that it was all one big joke, but I couldn’t. Four years ago, Miles didn’t know I was gay, let alone that I was in love with him. So I stood there in the corner and watched as it slowly sunk in. My brother was gone, again.
Miles P.O.V. –Three weeks later
They told me I had joined the Navy, and that’s why I had bad dreams of seeing my friends die, but I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Every time I thought I was close to remembering putting on a uniform I would be attacked my crippling pain. More than once my little brother had had to drag me back to bed because I just couldn’t seem to function right. Everything felt so foreign, even my family.
Mama could no longer stay in the same room as me because it hurt her too much, and dad would always just smile before joining her. They acted as if I died, or murdered someone’s baby, but I knew I hadn’t because the cops would have told me after they tried to get my statement about some fight I was supposedly in three weeks ago.
The only thing that seemed to be the same was my over emotional little brother, Alex, for the most part. Every now and then I’ll catch him watching me with this look of agony as if just sitting next to me is putting him in pain but it turns to a fake smile once he sees he’s been caught. It was slowly eating me alive, but I didn’t tell him that. I was going to let him continue his silent misery until he was man enough to just spit it out, but that all changed late Friday night.
It was hotter than hell, well into the 90’s yet Alex still had a thick red hoodie on, while I on the other hand had on my boxers, and nothing more. Mama and dad had left to go to a party being thrown across town, so I didn’t worry about being indecent but Alex had refused to take off the damn hoodie. Here lately I’ve been finding it hard to keep calm, even over the little things, so this stupid oversize red cloth was driving me absolutely insane, to the point I had to sit on my hands not to rip it off him. I was doing a good job of ignoring it until a small bead of sweat fell down his face.
“No!” He screamed out but was too late. I pounced on him, sending us to the floor as my hands flew to his zipper, desperately trying to get it down as I strattled his tiny waist. Of course he fought me, screaming and cursing but in the end I was victorious in ripping the stupid fucking red hoodie off of his delicious warm body, wait…did I just think of my little brothers body as delicious? I didn’t have time to ponder this thought because when I looked down I became speechless as twenty red gashes trailing his arms laughed at me.
“Get off,” he whimpered, but I ignored him as all feeling left my body.
“What…did you…why?” I couldn’t break any more as I kept him pinned to the floor, slowing allowing the anger to come back until I was down right disgusted with him. No, not him, but the thought of him doing this to himself was what revolted me till I did I didn’t even want to touch him, “How could you fucking do this? What is it, what in your life is so bad that it makes you want to kill yourself?!” I screamed at him as I pulled him up till he was inches from my face sending weird shocks of pain, anger, and something else through me.
“You wouldn’t under stand.” He whispered, looking down at where his arm was turning dark purple under my grasp, but I couldn’t let go.
“The fuck I wouldn’t, I’m your brother!”
“Let go!” he screamed back, pushing hard against my chest, sending me back far enough for him to escape and hide in our room, locking me out of his life.
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Writing Miles's reaction to the cuts was like a bad trip down memory lane for me but it was defiantly in character to Miles. Also, sorry about all the cussing, but it's kinda needed. Thanks for reading!
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Dawson Brothers (boyxboy)
Novela JuvenilHe took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. It was an innocent, experimental, peck on the lips. He had kissed me before, at a Christmas party a few months after my parents adopted him, and when his leaned back to smile down at me, that’s what...