Shattered Sight

A Broken Shoulder

            Many siblings have complex relationships; some are best friends, some are sworn enemies, others could care less about eachother. Joey and I, well, we fit into none of those categories.

There are many times where I recall the days when we were little. We ran around the fields, bathe in the sunlight, or swim in the pool until our fingers got pruney. Other days we would sit inside in front of our Xbox and play whatever game was popular at the time. Many days, I wish that those were the only memories I ever told; the only ones I ever had. Much to my despair, I still remember how the sunny days became rainy and my sight became cloudy. I soon began to wear glasses, but there wasn't a prescription strong enough to completely correct my vision.

Over the next couple of years, I grew into quite a social butterfly. I struck up conversations with just about anyone and everyone. People would smile and wave when they saw me, even the popular kids, and I would do the same to them. None of them ever minded the geeky look my thick glasses gave me; I guess they just assumed that I was smart.

On the other hand, Joey was quite the opposite. He would sit quietly in the back of the classroom, looking down at his feet. He knew all of the answers, but would never raise his hand. I was the only person who would ever talk to him, and in fifth grade, I figured out why.

"Back off weirdo!" Gregory Fishers said as he flicked Joey back, then wiped his finger on his jacket as if it had just contracted an abundance of germs.

"But I only wanted to talk with you. What's wrong with that?" Gregory snickered as Joey looked up at him with wide eyes. For the first time ever, when I adjusted my glasses, they focused perfectly. I could clearly see the words forming on Gregory's lips and the creases on his forehead when he slanted his eyebrows down.

"Ha, what a stupid question to ask! What isn't wrong with that? You being the outcast of the school and all." For some reason I am still unsure of, Joey had been punished by a social hierarchy that had been determined by everyone when they were all so young that they probably didn't even remember. These children had never said a word to him, yet treated him like trash because of their false assumptions. If they knew him like I did, then they would see him as an amazing friend; my blood began to boil.

"Hey Gregory!" I shouted as I marched up to him, not caring that he was a head taller. "Don't ever talk that way to my brother, or else you'll get my fist!" I narrowed my eyes and crumpled my hand into a ball. However, he laughed again and put his hand on top of my head. I gulped as I realized the extent of his height.

"Aww, adorable little Cody, how sweet of you to care for your brother. Now how about you run along home and take him back to the trash where he belongs."

That was the last straw. Before me or anyone else realized what was happening, my fist sent punches to his nose left and right. It started to bleed a little, but he ignored it and grabbed me by the collar bone. He slammed me into the wall of the school, my hearing temporarily lost when my skull smashed against it. He then flopped me on the ground like a fish and continued to blow punches until a teacher came.

Suddenly, all of the bystanders scurried off and out of sight, leaving me on the ground with a pair of smashed glasses and broken shoulder. The teacher was shouting words at me, but I couldn't hear her or read her lips. Besides, it didn't matter because my attention was on Joey. Through squinting and pushing my dark brown hair out of my face, I could see him looking out into the distance in the direction Gregory took off in. Was that hate in his cold, unforgiving eyes? With my love for him seeping into my thoughts, I shook my head and decided that my injuries were just playing tricks on me. And that's what I kept telling myself until the world turned to black.