‘He made the effort for you and you nearly threw it back in his face. He knows what those pictures mean to you.’
I hadn’t been able to shake the voices away. I never could. They were always there. Always. I felt so guilty for what I’d said. ‘Is that all you wanted?’ As if that didn’t sound like I wanted him to go away. I had wanted him to stay, but I didn’t have the chance to cover up the latest cuts on my arms and I could feel the blood soaking through my hoodie.
‘They offered to talk to you. You’re bringing it upon yourself.’
It was like having a personal demon living in my head. I always knew I was different, but now I wasn’t just different, I was that kid no-one like. The kid who everyone took the piss out of. That kid with ‘problems’, or so they all said.
Frank had never been in my room before; he didn’t know how dark it was, how I liked to hide away from the world. It was how I disappeared. He chose his moments. I’d only just come in and found my razor blade, only just drawn it across my arm when I heard him knocking. He probably heard me rushing around, hiding the blade and dragging a long sleeved garment out of my closet. Hopefully, he didn’t suspect anything. I didn’t need him telling everyone I was a cutter. They’d find something else to call me at school; emo.
‘You’re starting to get selfish, Way. Did you even bother seeing if your little brother was okay before you grabbed that blade? No. He gets bullied too.’
It was only nine. Mikey would still be awake.
‘You need to start helping him instead of wallowing in self-pity. You’ll mess him up.’
I took out the band-aids I kept in my school bag and made sure all the cuts were covered before I grabbed my pyjamas. Plain black, that way if anything started bleeding, no-one would notice. I didn’t bother closing the door behind me; things were well out of sight. I walked slowly up the stairs and gently knocked on the door.
“Mikes? You awake?”
“Just come in, Gee.” What had happened now? He sounded fed-up. I suppose that’s kid-brothers for you.
“Are you okay, after today, I mean?”
He shook his head. He’d taken his glasses off and was sitting on his bed. Turning to look at me, I felt that rush of guilt again.
“Where were you? They put me in the locker again.”
‘And where were you? In the bathroom, crying. Selfish.’
“Sorry, Mikes. I was real busy, y’know?” I was lying through my teeth. My horribly crooked teeth.
“But I’m your brother.” Oh, God. He was gonna cry. That boy sure knew how guilt-trips worked. I sat next to him and put an arm around him.
“I’m sorry. They didn’t hurt you too much, did they?” He released a pitiful sob.
“I’m sick of it though, Gee. You’re meant to look out for me.” Shrugging me off, he punched me in the stomach, and I had to stop myself giving into the pain and squealing. I suppose I deserved it. After all, that’s what I’d been doing while he’d been shoved in someone’s stinking locker.
‘He’s right. You’re meant to look out for him. You’re family.’
“Just go away, Gerard. You’re no help.”
‘See? He doesn’t want you here messing things up.’
“Do you want to talk to mom or anything?” Maybe I should try and shut the voices out, try to make things better.
“JUST GET OUT!” Mikey yelled. He never shouted at me. Jeez, he must have felt so damn bad earlier. I looked at him, then got up.
“Sorry, Mikey…”
‘Sorry? Is that all you’ve got? He’s getting bullied because he’s your brother.’
What was I supposed to say? ‘I wish I wasn’t so self-absorbed and depressed?’ He grunted and lay out, turning his back to me.
“Goodnight, Michael,” I whispered softly. With that, I went back to my room and back to the torment inside my head.