I lie in bed, heart thumping gently against my ribcage, as I listen to the echo of raised voices reaching me through the floor. It is all too familiar, these arguments that now seem to happen on a daily basis. The pleading of my mom, desperately trying to reason with the volatile and broken shell that remains of my one and only sibling and the frustration of my dad as he berates Connor for his continuous irresponsibility. It's a classic "good cop, bad cop" approach and as valiant as their efforts are, I know that they are in vain. From experience I can tell you that trying to extract any kind of rational conversation from Connor in this state is futile. Little penetrates the heady fog that he returns in each night.
It is hard to pinpoint at which point Connor first began to tread the path that would lead him into such a rapid downward spiral. Straightforward is not a word that I think anyone would ever have used to describe Connor, even at the beginning. Somewhat enigmatic: apparently perfectly normal, but the smallest thing could trigger him to fly off the handle. His unpredictability frightened people, driving the few friends he ever had away until it was rare to see him in anyones' company but his own. A lone wolf, I suppose. Eventually, loneliness turned to depression. The drugs are his sole means of solace: a way to escape this world in which he existed so miserably. Little by little my brother disappeared, giving way to this angry and intensely violent person that I hardly recognise.
I roll over, grabbing my headphones and setting them to full volume. My form of escapism is somewhat less destructive than that of my brother.
YOU ARE READING
No Requiem
Fanfictiona retelling of Dear Evan Hansen, but from Zoe's perspective. She didn't get as much character development as she deserved in the show so here I am :)
