Redamancy

Prologue

*Two Years Ago*  9:23 pm.

It had been a dark and dreary night, which seemed to be the norm for poor Andre. However, nights like these seemed to be the ones that drove him to his wits end. He had been texting his brother, Jayden, and their conversation had reached its limit. After Jayden moved out on his twentieth birthday, Andre hadn't seen much of him. Every now and again, they would have video calls, which Jay used to check on his brother. But regardless, tonight was another sibling convo where Jay would have to comfort after having yet another falling out with their father.

"C'mon Dre, ya gotta chill," Jayden pleaded. "We both know our old man is fucked up, but you can't keep letting him get you like this."

Andre paced his bedroom while his brother talked, teeming with unchecked rage as usual. Whenever it came to their father, Andre's blood always boiled at even the mention of the man's name. Prowling around his bedroom like a predator in the dead of night, Andre had a stern look that could kill. If you were to see him; his eyebrows furrowed and the veins pulsating on both his neck and temple- he could strike fear into someone's heart. Andre tried to respond to his brother, opting to take a deep breath in order to prevent himself from popping a blood vessel.

"I can't, man!" Andre sighed. "That dude . . . he has some serious shit wrong with him!"

Trying to regain his composure was insanely difficult, and nearly off the table with Andre's previous statement. The young teen sighed breathlessly; feverently pacing his room. Jayden could only look on and attempt to calm his brother's tirade. He let out a breathless sigh, and took off his glasses. Andre knew that when his brother took off his glasses, that he was really about what he was going to let fly from his lips. Regardless of whatever had happened prior, Jayden knew for a fact that he and his brother had to get away from all this nonsense.

"Dre, I'mma keep it a buck with you lil bro; I'm comin' to get you. I'm about to get in my car now, and drive over there. Pack your shit, and don't get into no shit before I get there, man. Dad's been fuckin with you too much and now you're hella fucked up for it," Jayden declared and hung up instantly, giving his brother no way to reply.

That eerily calm silence after Jayden hung up was nerve-wracking, keeping Andre from making any remarks or any snide comments. He was surprised; and for good enough reason.  Andre never got a break around here. He was either stuck playing beerboy or both him and his father walking away from a fistfight with more bruises than either male could account for. Andre never thought of how much he could despise and loathe one man before.

Almost if karma wanted to play a cruel joke, Jayden and Andre's father stumbled in, asking their mother, Teresa; if the 17-year-old had fallen asleep. The boys' mother looked at him; starting to form a reply. Sadly enough, he couldn't wait for her to speak as he had already seen the teen walking downstairs. Andre had pulled his prized dreadlocks back into a ponytail, threw on a black hoodie with faded blue jeans and black tennis sneakers. He looked as though he was ready to go by the time the door opened to reveal not their father, but Jayden's figure.

Jayden had been the older of the two Ogilvie siblings, though sporting a short haircut and a white dress shirt, grey slacks and a pair of jogging shoes on; his dress showed that even though he was a businessman, he still cared about his brother. Andre ran up and gave his brother a handshake, which turned into a tight sibling hug.

"Hey, Jay. Missed you out here bro, I nearly went crazy. Did Dad say anything to you?" Andre asked, peering over his taller brother's shoulder. Jayden shook his head, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. The response didn't trigger a fight or flight response in the younger sibling, but he slightly recoiled from the gesture. Jayden simply pulled his hand back, silently wishing eternal damnation upon the man who made his poor brother feel less than, just because of his own personal failures.

"Damn....I really gotta get you outta here, Dre. You hadn't done that- even when I moved out...let's pack your shit and get you outta here." Jayden replied, running upstairs to pack up the rest of his brother's belongings and would come back for the furniture later. He wouldn't want to bring Andre for that journey, but would have to when their dad wasn't home. As if the universe wished poor fortune upon the brothers, once Andre had packed all of his personal belongings into two separate duffel bags; while he and his brother on the way out, their father walked up to them in a drunken, slurry stupor.

"Ah! Hey there....Adrien! How's my favorite son doing?" The older, darker skinned slurred, his speech really only reasonably understandable at the beginning. Unfortunately, Andre understands the slurry speech of his poor drunken mess of a father.

"....My name is Andre, you drunk fuckwad. I get you might be piss drunk, but at least try to be conscious enough to remember my name. Not to mention you liked Jay more than me anyway. You barely spoke to me after he moved out." The chocolate-skinned teen sharply spat, with just about as much spite and anger as anyone could avoid putting in their voice. Andre and Jayden's father, Bruce Ogilvie had been a well known boxing coach. His fame had died out long after Andre had become a teenager, and Jayden had graduated high school. Originally, his father had been a kind, studious and well-mannered man. But, even the greatest of men become weak and change when a beer bottle waltzes into their grip. Since then, if the poor sod doesn't have alcohol, he's never at home.

Eventually, as he put a large, meaty hand atop Andre's shoulder with a loud clap. Something began to snap in the young teen- Andre struggled to control his rage. Every muscle in the boy's body began to tense up. Rage boiled in the pit of the teen's stomach like wildfire, finding its place to enthrall whatever parts of his body would listen to it, like an accursed puppeteer. It took pleasure in controlling the young man's body. As his father continued to speak as if he was on a loudspeaker, the words began to blend together, mesh and mold into blubbering nonsense from a drunken man's mouth. He shifted his gaze towards his mother, As she stood still out of fear, he raised his voice; something she feared.

"You boys never really have a talk with your old man anymore...." He slurred, his buzz slowly, gradually wearing down. He could tell his father's breath reeked of alcohol, a smell the dreadlock-sporting teen had grown to hate. The boys' mother had already begun to cover her face with her hands and knees, curling up into a ball. The poor woman cowered as Bruce grew angrier and angrier, eventually attempting to strike the boys in a drunken rage.

The alcohol was one of many reasons Andre loathed their father- constantly being compared to Jayden was the other thing that drove Andre up the wall. Constantly having grades, social lives, and even how quickly one picked things up had always been lorded over him, and necessarily it hadn't been his brother's fault. For that one moment; that one brief respite his mind had to contemplate that decision- that choice of whether or not Andre let go of his self-control, blacking out and lunging at the man with all of the sinister intent that his young body could let loose.

The younger male blacked out- and in his blind rage, took his boxing stance and uppercut the older man hard enough that Jayden had heard his father's bones crack. He then moved with a right hook to the man's temple. Bruce fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his body limp; devoid of any life flowing through him. His jaw had been broken, and the blow to his head had been strong enough to kill him. Bruce Ogilvie was dead. And it had been his own spawn that killed him. When Andre regained his senses, the boy screamed.

"No....no no! NO! I swear to god, I blacked out! I swear I blacked out, Jay! You gotta believe me I didn't mean to kill him! Jay I swear...." Andre cried, his whole body shaking furiously with fear and regret. Andre had killed his own father, and now there was nothing he could have done to absolve himself of that guilt.

Jayden proceeds to get all of his brother's belongings; while Andre falls into a stupor. He killed his own father. The saying repeated itself in his head, over and over with his father's ghost now lingering over him. He didn't think it'd be possible for that old fart to croak and die like that- much less by his own hands. On the drive back, silence had been golden- but all that glitters had not been gold on that day.

"Here we are. Glad I bought this place out here. Figured some of your old friends might be around here. Gonna get your transfer papers set up....and I guess I'm your legal guardian." Jayden sighed, hugging his brother closely. Andre couldn't believe the fact his father was gone.

And in that moment, the dark-skinned teen shot up; sweating bullets and screamed. He swore he had been over these dreams since he moved, but it's only ever gotten worse; never any better.