Oh Brother!

Why does life hate me? I groan as Jonah pulls on my arm again. Those small blue eyes glowing. He jumps up and down, pointing to something in the kitchen.

"Come on, Zach, come see," he whines.

I sigh. He always did this. Something stupid he made or did that I have to go look at. Mom says I should as his big brother, but what's the point of driving up his hopes if whatever it is sucks? It's not gonna help him get any better.

"I'm busy." I shake him off my arm and continue playing on my small game system. The gameplay, strategy, and achievements help drone out the boringness of life. Including Jonah.

He keeps on me. Why is he such a pain? I know he's six, but he can at least take a hint. Jonah shrieks. I shove him away.

"Mommy!" Jonah yells.

"Zach, stop hurting your brother!" Mom calls.

"I'm not hurting him. He's being a baby!" I shout.

"Come see, Zach, please?" Jonah said.

This wasn't gonna stop anytime soon. I pause the game and get up from the couch. Jonah claps his hands. He races towards the kitchen. I trudge in after him.

I could barely see the table. Crayons, drawings, toy cars, paint, and whatever else he uses to play with is all over the table. I wait at the edge of the kitchen as Jonah reaches for something. He pulls up a plate with some blue putty stuff on it.

"For you," he says, holding it out for me.

I really didn't know what to think. Some blue person, I think, with green eyes and black hair. It was holding something gray. It looked like my game system.

"Is that supposed to be me?" I ask. Jonah nods. "I'm not blue, you know."

"It was my last color," he says.

He's still holding it out to me. What am I gonna do with it? I don't need anything like that making a mess in my side of our room. It doesn't even look like me.

"Uh, no thanks. Put it with your other ones," I said.

Jonah looks down at the thing he made. His lips quiver. No, not again. Don't cry just to get what you want. It won't work on me.

"Zach. Jonah. I'm leaving," Mom calls.

I turn and hurry out of the kitchen. Jonah follows after me, still holding the plate of putty. Mom sees him and smiles.

"What's that, Jonah?" she asks. "You make something else?"

"I made Zach," Jonah says.

"Really? Did Zach see?" Mom asks.

"He wants me to take it," I say. "I don't have any room for it."

"Well if you bothered cleaning your side of the room and throwing a few things away you might have some space," Mom says.

"Nah. It would just end up on the floor," I say.

She glares at me. I don't want to take it. It's gross and ugly looking. Jonah looks up at me. His eyes aren't watering, but the sadness still lingers.

"It's very good, Jonah," she says. She hugs Jonah. "You listen to your brother while I'm gone, ok?"

"Ok."

"Go make something else," she says.

Jonah ran off into the kitchen. Mom put her hands on her hips. "He just wants you to like it. All you have to do is say good job. What's so hard about that?"