Life as Me: James

James: short story life

JAMES:

Alexander Jones, he was a quiet guy. Not many have witnessed the way his dark grey eyes look almost silver when they glint in the sun. They don't see that when he runs his hands through his dirty blonde hair, he is trying his hardest not to hit something. They don't even see how his nose twitches the same time his eyes squint in frustration, just because a teacher calls his name out in class. Or even when he clenches his hands into fists when someone he doesn't like walks too close to him.

I do. I see all of these little habits of his, because I have to. I hate it though. I hate that I cringe every time he cracks his knuckles, or when he slams a door loudly and I cower in the corner like a little girl. I just wish somebody else would see what he does. That for once, they would catch him pushing me around and not just walk away. To them, I'm the depressed kid, with the bad home life that nobody cares about.

I worry my mother sometimes. Especially on the days I get home at late hours because I've had to wait for the cleaner to let me out of a supply cupboard. She worries the most when I come home with injuries though. Ever since the time I came back with a broken ankle and three broken ribs. Maybe a couple of missing teeth too but I was severely concussed and don't remember much of the night.

Dad doesn't care. I'm the youngest of his kids. 'The runt of the litter' as he so kindly puts it. Dad would prefer my older brother, the stronger child, the smarter child. I couldn't care less. I'll be out of here soon; it will all be put behind me. I can't wait.

Alexander has been my bully for the last six years, ever since I opened a door in his face and proceeded to trip him over into the bin after. I didn't mean to. My mathematics teacher had kept me back to ask about my failing grades. I wasn't worried about those, he was. Alexander had handed me my punishment with a closed fist to the face. I was then reminded of the said punishment multiple times each day. Now is where it ends though. Now is where I give him a form of punishment for the years I endured the pain, the blood and the bruises. No more pain put on me from him. I'm gone.

***

I was standing at my parent’s front door three years after I had run off. I had my own life now. I had my own family. My wife held our 8 month old daughter, Annie. Melanie, I had met as soon as I'd left and spent my first night at her mother's hotel. She'd been visiting. Now, is the first time she will be meeting my family, they weren't at our wedding.

A silver car sat out front. My brother was here. We walked into the house and he greeted us at the door.

"Hello brother," he smiled.

"Hello Alexander," I glared.