𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑮𝑳𝑼𝑬

𝑱𝑼𝑳𝒀 12𝑻𝑯, 𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟑

Michael sat on the couch, his brother's sitting beside him, watching cartoons. It was a cold evening, the clouds were a deep grey, which was surprising as it had been the polar opposite in the morning. But they didn't feel a thing as they were all under Jackie's fluffy red blanket that he had brought down for this special occasion.

You see they really didn't get time like this very often. Their father made the band rehearse as much as they could; whether it be before or after school. He also made them carry bricks back and fourth in attempt to make them remember 'where they are and know where they could end up'. So they cherished these moments and tried to make the most of it.

But then, the door opened, causing the cold breeze to sweep in, chilling the children. Their father had came back from work in the steel mines of Gary and seem to have brought desolate energy with him.

All joy they had been feeling was replaced with fear and disappointment as they knew something was gonna go wrong. That man was very rarely pleased.

He mumbled a greeting to his wife and sat down, wiping the sweat of his forehead. "Did everyone rehearse today?" he asked Jackie, since he was the eldest he was pretty much in charge of the band when Joeseph wasn't there. His father believed it was a privilege but it mostly stressed the boy out. "Yes we did but Jermaine can't get the double turn right - but he's trying!"

The 12 year old awnsered truthfully, perhaps too truthfully as he earned a glares from his band members. He was terrified of Joeseph, just as much as the rest, even though he tried to hide it. He just didn't want to risk him finding out it was a lie or first hand the next day as that would be a terrible whooping for all of them.

"...Who's shoes are these? You know this is not the place for shoes!" he yelled. Everyone froze, rushing through their thoughts, desperately trying to remember where they placed their shoes.

He seemed to dismiss Jermaine's failures which was incredibly odd as he would flip out at any little mistake, and care more about whoever misplaced their footwear.

"...Michael!" Joeseph yelled. The 4 year old picked himself up and walked nervously to his father. He knew he had made a mistake but he didn't understand why he had to get beaten for it, in all the cartoons they had watched the characters got a warning at most, so why wasn't it the same for him.

Before he knew it his father had punched him in the face, this was the first of many though. No matter how many times he apologised, no matter how many time he or his mother begged for mercy, no matter how many times he screamed out in pain, Joeseph wouldn't stop.

"Jermaine!" the child touched his bloody nose as his brother stepped up for his beating. Michael dazily looked up, barely able to watch his brother and father go into a separate room.

Katherine came running, picking her child up from the floor. "My baby!" she yelled, rocking him back and fourth with tears in her eyes. She hated that Joeseph punished them like this. She was raised with a heart of gold and he was raised with an iron fist, two completely different worlds.

Sometimes she even wondered how they fell in love on that faithful spring of 1948. But then she notices that it was all he knew and at least he made it apparent that it was out of care.

"Oh baby I gotta go!" the woman whispered, kissing her son on the cheek before going off to her other duties. Michael just sat there though, feeling numb, empty and dazed. He was still bleeding, albeit not as heavily but it still gave him that stunned feeling.

All of a sudden Jermaine came crying from the room. Bizarrely enough this wasn't the first time this happened, in fact, everytime Jermaine did something wrong Joeseph would pull him into another room and do something that made him cry.

When he asked why his brothers wouldn't tell him, he figured it was big boy business and that he'd know when hes older.

"It's ok Jermaine." Jackie whispered with tear drops in his eyes. He always comforted him – or anyone who needed it, he was a very sweet and soulful person.

Michael then felt something against him, it was his baby brother randy hugging up on him. He held the baby close, kissing his forehead lovingly. But eventually the love fest had to be destroyed by none other than Joeseph arguing with Katherine over parenting methods.

The shouting, the crying, the tv and everything in between were too much for little Randy so he began to cry.

The 4 year old didn't like that his brother was getting his shirt wet, or the fact he was being loud. And the negative energy that the whole house was admitting rubbed off on him.

So, Michael slapped Randy across the face, leaving him with a bright red mark that would surely form a nasty bruise later on. Even at 1 years old it made him feel horrible, both inside and out, and confused on why he had been hit.

On the other hand his brother felt both empowered and guilty. Empowered; because he had oneuped Randy at something he couldn't get back at. And guilty as he had just hit someone simply for expressing themselves – something he himself had just been doing but a minute ago.

He stopped crying but was it worth it? Was it worth the guilt? The hurt? The punishment that he'd surely get if someone saw or found out about this?

But still, it taught him a lesson right?

A lesson everyone, even the girls needed to learn.

"Stop crying, and be a man!"