Mirrors

The Blaming Game

Chapter Eight:

The Blaming Game

We all stood in silence. I felt like I was reliving the agony I had felt those so many years ago. Has it really been that long ago, since I’d been nine years old? It almost seemed like yesterday. And it played right in front of me. Emotions began to mix together in this cauldron of mine. It was one thing experiencing a situation once; it’s another thing experiencing the situation again with brand new eyes. That little Irene felt so far away from me, as if I was never her. It was like watching someone else’s life play in front of me. It was definitely weird and I didn’t think I was going to get used to it.

Little Irene stopped throwing punches. She ended up resting her head on Colton’s hard, skeleton chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist.  The tears began to slow down; she calmed herself. Colton held her small frame, holding her in his arms. He kept whispering in her ear, “I’m sorry.”  Little Irene forgave him, but she couldn’t forget Shane.

Oliver had to fill Jaren in with what happened. Jaren didn’t know how to answer him, though he knew what he wanted to do right away.

“We should tell the police about your brother,” he interrupted.

Colton released his hold of little Irene, appalled by Jaren’s suggestion. He shook his head. “I can’t let you do that,” he mumbled through his  gritted teeth.

Jaren and Oliver turned their heads to face each other, bewildered to hear Colton’s reply.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Oliver protested. “He committed a crime that left you and your friend emotionally scarred. Why wouldn’t we call the police?”

“Because,” Colton sighed, “no matter what happens, he’s always going to be my brother.”

“What?” Jaren spat, clenching his fists. Then, he examined Colton’s frail body. Bruises covered his arms, turning black and blue. He was almost skin and bones, as if he was never fed. His clothes were almost too small for him; no one was taking care of this child. His growing feet almost broke through the sneakers he wore. No wonder he was so excited to learn how to play tennis; he might have never played—or seen anyone play for the matter—any sport before. He was kept in a shell.

Jaren hung his jaw down in shock. Colton has gone through much more than little Irene.

“It’s obvious that you’re being hurt by your brother,” Oliver sneered, narrowing his eyes in disgust. “Why would you let him get away with that? Don’t you want him to be punished?”

Colton paused, his eyes looking aloof. Little Irene stepped away from him, looking at him with the same question in her eyes. They waited for an answer.

“Yes,” he replied, reluctantly. “But he’s the only family I’ve got.”

“I’m sure that you’ll find a better family,” Jaren pointed out. “It’ll be a family twice as better as you have now. Your brother can hardly be called family at all.”

“I can’t!” Colton growled. With that, he turned around and ran away. The three children were left baffled.

*****

“What’s going on?” Colton demanded at a policeman that cuffed Shane’s hands together. The blaring screams of sirens disturbed the freezing October night. Flashes of reds and blues swirled around the lot, causing many neighbors to flock on the street. They were as puzzled as Colton, not knowing what to do. The wind lifted the autumn leaves off of the ground. It began to sprinkle. The trees swung their branches along the wind, as if waving to everyone in sight.