Securing Your Place in Bedlam

Sing a Song of General Sadness

"Feel like doing anything today?"

Silence.

Looking over, Ferrell could see that his older brother was staring blankly at the fabric of the couch beneath them, vaguely running his hand over the surface.

He jostled him slightly. "Fabio. C'mon." Ferrell didn't feel frustrated at him these days. No point in it.

Dark brown eyes looked up to meet his own. "...sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he muttered. "Did you wanna go out for a while? Seems nice out." Indeed, the days had been gradually been cooling and shortening throughout the month- and Ferrell was certain he would suffocate if he was to remain in the body-odour-and-misery scented house.

"I dunno."

Ferrell grunted. "You don't have to...but wouldn't some fresh air be good?"

Fabio sighed. "Ferrell, I'm sorry. I...I just really don't feel like I can. Not today."

He never could. Not for months, anyway.

Ferrell felt shame for the wave of disappointment that rode his back. It wasn't like his brother had chosen to be where he was now. "Right. No problem, Fab. I'm just gonna hang out in the yard for a while, yeah?"

"Ferrell, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry 'bout it."

His brother awkwardly adjusted the knot closing the arm of his shirt. "We'll hang out later. Promise."

"Okay."

Neither of them addressed the obvious lie that was now suspended in the air. Ferrell excused himself.

Outside, Ferrell encountered a thin figure equipped with an almost comically large sunhat. His other sibling glanced over, making room on the small bench.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Silence.

Ferrell glanced over. Trevor's pale eyes were already closed. "I saw this weird bird earlier today. Looked like he had a mullet."

"Hm."

Ferrell would take being in school over this.

Things were better now. Of course they were. But that stupid heavy atmosphere had never really left. Of course it hadn't. How's work?"

"Fine."

Ferrell's appetite for the beautiful outdoors was rapidly transforming into a desire to sit in his room and sulk. "I asked Fabio if he wanted to come out for a while. Maybe take a walk, y'know?"

"He didn't."

"...yeah."

"What else is new."

"I don't think he can get up."

"He lost an arm, not a leg."

Ferrell's face was warm. "You know what I mean. It's not just that, either."

"We're doing better."

"That's different."

Trevor stood up. "We need groceries, don't we?"

"Not really."

"We need something. You're in charge, Ferrell."

"Fine."

His brother walked off. It would be a long walk, Ferrell knew.

He stretched out on the bench, not thinking about anything.