Hollow Hearts

I Still Don't Get It

(This story is somewhat complete, I'm just looking for someone to take a look at it)

I didn't get it, never got it. The joke. The same damn joke that my brother tried playing on me when he started taking everything from me. He started first with my friends, saying that "its just a joke, man." He graduated to risking his freedom to get me in trouble by basking in lies while my parents yelled and punished me although I was innocent of any crime my brother committed, telling me later that night that it was just a joke.
I fell in love with a girl and we had a kid about a year after I asked her out. I never told my parents, and hers weren't okay with us being dumb but fine with letting us keep the baby. My brother found out about it and took her away from me as well as my kid. I'm not allowed to see my son because my ex and her new boyfriend don't want me to.
He eventually told my parents and I was grounded until graduation, which was two years away. He told me that was a joke, too.
Each day faded away slowly with every turn of the minute hand. The seconds ticked by sluggishly, and it seemed like the hours never passed when I watched the clock. I wasn't allowed to hang out with my friends or watch TV.
Yeah, it was bad.
My brother took my parents from me after I came home from college. I had no friends by this point because my brother went to the same school. He graduated a year before I did. When I walked through the door, I didn't find a mother and father waiting to congratulate me. Instead I found them sitting in the living room with my brother in front of two suitcases.
I should have known who's cases they were, but I asked them what's inside.
"Your things." My father spat.
"Wh-why are my things packed?" I asked them. It was weird, the way he said it. It was like he was blaming me for slapping someone's grandma, though not a single one of us actually did that. There was a certain amount of venomous hatred in his voice that definitely showed that I wasn't welcome in the house.
"You're brother told us about that girl last semester," continued my dad, "Jennie Partwell. Said you two had a little 'get-together'."
I instantly knew who he was talking about, but not what. "Dad, she died last semester. I haven't talked to her in over a year either." I tried. She was found in an alley where she was apparently raped and strangled. I didn't know much of anything. All we were, if anything, was acquaintances. We talked a few times, had study group, but because of my history with my older brother, I always shot the chances I ever had with her.
"Jonathan said you raped her before that happened. Since we've been hard on you, we are giving you a chance to change. You're moving out."

I haven't spoken to them in over two years. It's kind of hard when you've taken every last punishment without fighting back and not having a chance to vent. My brother is going to show up tomorrow, who knows when. Time isn't an aspect of everyday-life anymore. All I do now these days is pretty much nothing. I like to walk, it helps me think. I've failed most of everything life has thrown at me this past year. I haven't held a steady job.
Hey, my brother is here early. He's never here a day earlier. I watch as Jon takes a knee in front of the grave and see his body shake with emotion. I walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder like I always do. He looks up at me, past my face and up to the sky. He says the same thing he says everyday: "I'm sorry. The joke got too far." He got up, put some flowers on the stone slab that marked my place of rest, and walked away.
I look at the graves opposite mine that belonged to mom and dad. I wonder why he doesn't visit them. Is that because he killed them, or is it because I hung myself before he could get to me?