Scars • hood au

03

a l e x a n d r a

MY walk home was nothing much of a story. I had crossed my arms tightly, clutching my blazers together as the cold breeze blew. My hair was annoying me too because it wasn't tied and was flying every other way possible.

Even though school was living hell, I hated being home more. Screw that. The only reason I wanted to be home was for my ill brother.

He was the only person I loved in that house. I didn't even love myself. Yet I'd sacrifice anything for him. He's all I had left and I wouldn't let anyone take him away from me or even lay a finger on him.

I took a deep breath whilst slowly turning the doorknob, praying with every ounce of energy left in my body that no one was at home (except for my brother.)

Closing the door and locking it behind me, I tip-toed to the kitchen and stalked the room: no one.

The living room was empty and everything was in place so I took that as a sign that nobody was home. Breathing a sigh of relief, I ran up to my brother's room and the door croaked as it opened.

"Luke..?" I quietly called out and received no respond, resulting that he was asleep so I locked the door behind me. "My poor baby."

I put my backpack down at his study table and caught myself in the mirror. I always wondered why I couldn't be perfect like every other girl out there...

My blonde hair was a total mess on my head and down my shoulders. My body wasn't skinny and my curves were wronged. Due to my short skirt, my oh-so-attractive legs were exposed and I put my feet together: not even a teeny-tiny gap.

Hell, my stomach wasn't flat either. I wasn't anorexic because, well, I loved food. So I was no where near eating disorders.

Before my fist connected with the reflection in the frame of glass, I retreated and slowly crept on the bed to Luke, my beloved baby brother.

He was only younger by a year but he was still my baby brother.

"Luke..?" I looked at his sleeping state and stroke his blonde hair out of his pale face. He seemed to shift and slowly opened his eyes.

I greeted him with a smile as he returned it genuinely. I loved how strong he was even in his condition and it was all for me. It clearly was the reason why I was trying my best to stay strong too: him.

Luke was not my real brother. But growing together made our bond stronger. He loved me too, and that made me love him even more every day.

"Hey... Have you eaten?" I continued stroking his hair and his blue eyes glowed due to the sunlight coming from the window.

"Mma... Mm-"

"Shh... Don't try, Luke. It's okay." I wanted to hear him speak. But I guess I never would.

He was disabled. He couldn't talk but he could hear normally. He was not physically disabled but he still needed help in a little moving.

"Have you eaten, Luke?"

Luke shook his head and I sighed out of frustration. I knew my so-called mom didn't feed him. He was her own blood and meat yet she didn't even give two shits about the poor boy.

But I was there for him.

And he knew everything about me because I would come home every day and tell him the things that'd happened throughout the whole day.

My problems, my secrets, my clinical depression... Everything.

But he couldn't tell me his.