Nothing Ever Changes

Between thoughts

After having a delicious milkshake and some pancakes covered in Nutella (Mr. Stevenson always made me eat them, and although many times I told him I didn't want them, I would end up eating them anyways because... well, because pancakes, that's why), I decide I should just go home and wait until tomorrow to fix things, to talk to him and be kind. Or not, just move on with my life like he doesn't exist... shit. Goddamn it, I'm overthinking it again. 

As soon as I open the door, I hear my brother calling me from the kitchen.

- Yeah?

- I made pasta, you want some?

- Nah, not hungry yet.

I turn around, heading to my room and a sudden thought hits my mind. What happened to my relationship with my brother? I feel cold and distant, when, just a few years ago, we were like flesh and bone. Then, another thought appears. Duh, my Dad left us. That had a huge impact in both of our lives, but especially in his. He had to forcefully become a sort of 'parent' , a figure he wasn't prepared to be. Of course, I could somewhat take care of myself, but still, I became a burden to him. 

Having an answer for that question I had just encountered was relieving but, at the same time, destructive. I learned to defend myself against negative thoughts because I couldn't afford any type of mental breakdowns. But, sometimes, I feel the wall breaking just a little. And, in those moments, I just fix it with duct tape.

- Ant? - I suddenly call. What am I doing? The last time I asked my brother something was like two years ago, when I lost my house keys and had to get his key.

I hear his footsteps getting louder and closer until he's standing in front of me.

- Do you want the pasta, after all? - he asks, a little confused.

- No, no. I wanted to... to talk to you.

He widens his expression slightly.

- Have you been into trouble at school?

- No, Ant. - I deny again.

- Are you pregnant?

- NO! - I raise my voice, a little annoyed. - Jesus, Ant, let me speak!

He gets surprised, but immediately signals me with his head, with a 'go on' motion.

My heart skips a beat. 'Chill, Sam. It's your brother. It'll be fine.'

- Hum.. I... I wanted to ask you... - I breathe deeply. - I'm sorry.

- You haven't asked anything yet. - he points out, like it was an obvious statement.

- I know. I'm sorry. For what you have been through. And I'm specially sorry for not realizing the pain and suffering you were in, after dad left. I could hav-

- Stop. 

His voice is like a cold ice cube, slowly sliding down my back.

- I don't need your apologies. You had nothing to do with what Dad did, so, why worry? I got over it. It's done, let's just move on.

- Yeah, but I could-

- I SAID I don't need excuses or any kind of explanations, Samantha. - the way he said Samantha made tears form on my eyes. - We are done here.

He turns his back on me, ready to leave the house when I scream:

- I know you think Dad never liked you!

He freezes.

- I know you always wanted to feel affection from him, to do father-and-son activities. But he never gave you those things. And you thought something was wrong with yourself. But no. You were never wrong. He was the one who had something wrong. He was jealous.

- Jealous? - Anthony says, with a cracked low voice, still facing the other way.

- Yes, Ant. He saw you made Mom the happiest woman in the world. Her eyes shined everytime you walked into the room. And he was never capable of giving her that. So, he unloaded his frustration on you.

- It's different...

- IT'S NOT. Dad never showed much appreciation towards Mom. But you and your kind soul were always ready to show Mom she was special, and that you loved her. In the end, your love was what was keeping their marriage together. 

He finally turns. He's looking into the floor, with nothing in his eyes. And, out of nowhere, he falls on his knees.