Unforgiving

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I jumped as the bars slammed shut in front of me. They were a glistening silver, having just been installed. To think I used to work here. Ugh. I looked down at my hands, the dark brown color of dried blood underneath my fingernails. I picked at the stubble on my chin. It was growing in uneven from lack of grooming. I'm a fucking mess.
"Don't cause any trouble." the guard barked at me. I held his cold gaze, his grey eyes stinging my brown ones. I glance down to his badge, big letters spelling: Detroit Police. The badge ID number was '900'. I kept a mental note of it.
I grunted, averting my eyes and crossing my arms. I sat on the block of cement with a cloth on it (not really but that's what it fucking felt like). I stared at the wall, looking at the small holes carelessly created when pouring the cement. I watched him leave out of the corner of my eye, his steps echoing down the corridor. My thoughts drifted to why I was even sitting there, my job, gone. My home, gone. My family...gone.

"Elijah, come on! Give it back!" Gavin yelled across the living room. His little 6-year-old legs carried him over to the couch that Elijah was hiding behind, "Eli, give it back."
The small laughs of Elijah are muffed in the back of the couch. His face was stuffed into the cloth, trying to be quiet. Gavin slowly crept toward the laughter, attempting to tackle the giggling boy.
"It's mine now!" Elijah leaps over the couch before Gavin can get to him and runs down the hall. He slams the door to their room. He jumps up onto the ladder and climbed the bunk bed. He tries to hide in the sheets, but Gavin can still see his 9-year-old figure. So, he claims up to his brother, rung after rung, and scrambles over to him.
"Hand it over!" he screeches into his face.
"Never!" Elijah pushes Gavin back and he flops onto the bed. But like a spring, he bounces back up and wrestles the toy out of Elijah's hands. It a fleeting moment of trying to keep it from Gavin, Elijah pulls his leg back and strikes, harder than he meant to, on the side of Gavin's torso.
His little body goes flying off the side of the bed, and down to the floor. They really should have listened to their mother about picking up their room, because Gavin hits the ground, rather, one of his toys. He lands face down and just screeches. But poor Elijah starts screaming, watching the blood pour out of his little brother's face, pooling on the floor, staining the carpet. He's frozen for a few seconds before he comes back to Earth and nearly falls trying to get down to Gavin. Their mother ran into the room as Elijah flips Gavin over in his arms. They look at the boy, the bridge of his nose sliced open to reveal a nasty gash. The blood-covered toy Gavin had been cut on, his mother, the blood on the floor, himself. None of that mattered. Only Gavin, dying in his arms.
They took him away.
Put him on a cot.
Put him into a van.
Pulled Elijah into the van.
Sirens.
Blaring.
In.
His.
Ears.
The smell of blood, strong.
Gavin's rigid breaths almost non-existent.
Elijah wouldn't listen to anyone.
His mother was crying.
Elijah was crying.
He did this.
He. Fucking. Did. This. To. Gavin.

And I never forgave him. I reached up to my nose and ran my finger over the scar, letting a tear fall from my eye.

An
This was just a little one-shot I've been working on. I'm proud of it, even tho other people probably think it's shit. Anyway, I'm going to bed because it's fucking 3 o'clock. I'll see ya lattterrrr byeeeeeee

Unforgiving {A Gavin Reed One-Shot}Where stories live. Discover now