While all these thoughts swam in my head, the one thing I've been waiting for all week finally arrives and it's a letter from my brother. I'm ecstatic because today was the day that my brother's letter was supposed to arrive in the mail and it's the 90th letter since he moved away.
The letters used to come in every week but recently, they started arriving later and later so some weeks disappointment washes over me when the mail man rides right by our front porch. I wanted to ask my brother about it but I also didn't want to bother him so much so I just settled with being grateful that he writes to me at all given his busy schedule.
When the mail man arrives to drop off our mail, he honks his horn three times to let us know that we had mail because he knows how excited I get each time a letter from my brother arrives. He says its cute but sometimes I call it desperation. I get a little desperate for human communication sometimes aside from the fact that I actually really miss having my brother around. Honestly, I get lonely sometimes because I don't have many friends.
I ran out to the porch to collect the letter from the mailbox before planting myself on our couch right in between of both my parents who were watching the documentary so that we could read the letter together. I didn't want to waste any time at all. Not even a second.
While reading the letter, I saw my parent's expressions rise and fall but I didn't really know why. All I knew was what my brother said to me. It went along the lines of "hey kid, you doing good? Sorry that I can't be there for you and please hold out for me."
Honestly, it made me cry a little because my brother was the only one who knew that I was getting bullied. My parents don't screen my responses to him so they didn't know. One thing that made me happy this week though, is the fact that I found out about my bullies moving away. They used to beat me up so bad in places where no one would notice and the pain was often excruciating. I passed out a few times too but I never dared to mention it to anyone due to the fact that I worried about my brother's scholarship getting revoked.
Unfortunately, my bullies had the wealth to do that and sometimes that fact alone would hurt me more than they did. Sometimes, it feels like getting hit by a jackhammer when you know how little control you have over your own life.
YOU ARE READING
The Andromeda Boy
Short StoryHis name was Shiki but I didn't know that. I didn't care and I still don't because I didn't change, he did. Now, here's his story. Read it, digest it and forget it. It's his story, don't make it yours.
