Family Ties

Chapter One

I continued to walk beside my younger brother, keeping a gentle expression on my face as I lifted my head to look up at the slowly darkening sky, blocked slightly by the tall trees with orange, gold, and red leaves covering the dark branches. I stopped, looking back down at him, and he stopped after me, turning to face me as well. Though Soda-pop was just eleven, he was already very handsome. He was short, even for his age, just barely coming up to my chest. He has rich golden hair that he keeps combed over, silky and a little longer than my own. In the Summer the sun bleaches it to a mellow, shining pale gold. His eyes are bright, a bold red that suits him incredibly well,  reckless but sympathetic. Soda had his arms tightly crossed as he looked up at me with a puzzled expression, his nose and cheeks blushing a soft rosy color from the chilled evening air. I noticed him shaking slightly from the cold, and so I took my hands out the pockets of my jeans, carefully unwrapping the scarf from around my neck and putting it around Soda's to help him keep in at least a little bit more heat, the blue-gray fabric contrasted against his eyes.

"Maybe it's about time that we should head back, kid."

His eyes widened just for a moment before he closed them tightly and shook his head, opening them once more and looking up at me worriedly.

"H-huh..? What? Do we have to??" He asked this quickly with a desperate and uneven voice that broke my heart.

I really didn't blame him for not wanting to go back to the place that we had to call 'home', but, I knew that we also didn't have any other choice. I worked part-time because I was only sixteen, and I already hated the amount of time I had to leave Soda alone. I needed to save up the money for us to eventually be able to live comfortably by ourselves, as soon as possible, while also having to worry about being there in case things got any worse, and being there for Soda. He'd always kept to himself at school up to this point, staying quiet and as out of the way as possible. Every time that I've gone to pick him up, he's always either been sitting alone, getting picked on by older boys-- which I'm undoubtedly sure was because they were envious of how stunningly handsome Soda is.--, or uncomfortably being surrounded by some gaggle of girls fawning over him. The only reason those girls wanted to be close to him was because of his looks, and he knew that. So, he didn't have much of a choice for half-decent friends, even if he hadn't been so self-conscious.

"Hey, we have to go back at some point anyway, right? If we get it out of the way now, we can take another walk tomorrow."

I kept smiling, gently combing his hair back over with my fingers to try to comfort him. If I'm honest, I didn't want to go back either. Things had been getting worse, and neither of us could understand how such kind people could change so much. Our parents went from being considerate, gentle, and sweet, to gradually becoming more and more bipolar, manipulative, and argumentative. I was having a hard enough time dealing with it myself, and I couldn't imagine having to be as young as Soda during all of it.

"...I don't want to have to go back, Lem.."

He said this under his breath, in almost a whisper, just barely loud enough for me to be able to understand what he had said.

He spoke up again, slightly louder, looking down at his feet as he spoke with a shaky voice. This time, his voice was uneven due to fear more than the cold. "Wh-What happened to them..? Do you think it's my fault.? I've never been good at school.. it just gets so.. So hard to focus sometimes. I hate it. Is that why? I-I, I don't.. I don't want to be a probl--"

"Soda, you're not a problem." I interrupted him, taking both of his hands into my own. I hated how their issues were making him feel like he was the issue. Our parents-- at least, our mom-- were supportive and loving for most of Soda's life. But, eventually, small problems between our parents had built up, and bit-by-bit it just kept getting worse over time. It didn't seem like it was going to get better anytime soon, either. Which, is one of the reasons why I'd been so eager to take Soda and leave. If things were to get any worse for us, it'd make escaping it even harder than it had been. "They don't mean what they say. You know how it gets with them, one minute they're all gentle n' sweet, and the next minute they're out for blood. You have nothing to do with that."

He paused to consider what I had said, nodding with a nervous smile, his round eyes not hiding his fear whatsoever. It hurt to know that someone as caring and pretty as him is self-conscious. He'd always picked himself apart, criticizing himself for every single small mistake, a bad habit that I hate to admit we share. But, he very obviously does it much more than I do. It got to the point where he couldn't do his schoolwork in class out of fear that he'd get it wrong, or that his handwriting wouldn't be good enough, or a hundred other things that nobody else there would've worried about for more than a moment. So, now, instead of letting the incomplete work build-up: he usually brings all of it home and has me try to help him with it. I try my best to get all of mine done in class; I want to be able to have as much time on my hands as possible. He needs me.

And, I need him, too. He's my motivation. I want to be able to get to see him grow up, he deserves that. Since our parents clearly have too much to deal with on their own, it's up to me to make sure that he gets a chance at life. If he weren't here: I can say with complete confidence that I wouldn't be, either. And as much as I want Soda to be able to be independent without me, I think he needs me just as much. That's not something I ever plan on letting myself ignore. If nothing else, he's the one I need to keep going for.

"w-well," Soda-pop stuttered quietly before clearing his throat and forcing a smile, albeit a very concerned smile. I'm certain it was just to comfort himself more, now, looking back on it. But at the time, I'd hoped it was real. For his sake, and mine. "It's getting really cold. If we're gonna head back in, could you maybe save your spacing out for later and start walking already?" He said this teasingly, but he did mean it.

"Yeah, I should probably do that, kid." I smirked in a jokingly condescending way, leaning down to be his height, ruffling his hair and messing it up. He blushed and lowered his head, hiding more into the scarf.

"I'm not six, lemonhead."

"Really? I can still remember when you were, with chasing that one poor girl around schoolyard for the whole period, all while yelling about how you were gonna marry her and have seven kids, live in Florida-" I could tell that he wasn't focusing on how bad it'd be when we got back to the house anymore, instead he was focused on my patronizing of him. Hey, what kind of an older brother would I be if I didn't take up the chance to remind him of something embarrassing he did as a little kid?

Soda blushed even redder, lowering his head more and covering most of his face with the scarf, interrupting me with an embarrassed; "stoooopp,," while turning back around with his hands stuffed into his pockets, starting the walk back home with the warmly-colored dry leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walked back down the sidewalk.