Never Coming Home
Chapie 1
I winced as his fist came in contact with my left cheek. Then my right cheek. Then my nose. This continued for a while until I ended up on the floor with him kicking me in my sides. As I heard him exit the room I began weeping quietly.
I want to get out of here. I need to get out of here. I can’t take anymore pointless beatings. I will not be a punching bag for a drunkard I used to call my love. No. I’m getting away from this if its the last thing I do. I need to act now. I need to leave. It’s decided then. I’m leaving. Right now. No, I mean it. I’m honestly walking to the door. Perhaps I should’ve brought a jacket considering its spring and raining a lot but I have no time. This needs to be dramatic. Yes I’m caring about drama at a time like this.
As I walk from the house my mind wanders to where I’ll go. I have no idea to be honest. But I’ll get there when I get there. That’s if I even get wherever I am going at all. Do I even have a destination? No. I thought I went over that already. The pain must be doing something to my brain. Ugh. Stupid brain. Stupid pain. Stupid brain pain. Wow it hurts a lot.
Holy crow the agony. I should not be walking. “Oi! Get back here!” I heard my lover, pardon me, ex-lover call from a ways away. Oh my. I should not be walking, I should probably run. Yes run. And so I am. Running. Too fast. Black spots begin to form on the outside of my vision and I regretted running with a brain injury as my world turned to black. Thats the last I remember of that night.
Gerard’s Point of View
I took my cap off as the casket passed in front of me in the parade. Whoever said parades were light and happy were most certainly wrong. Parades are for military funerals. Parades are black. We grieve during parades. As I am grieving during my brother’s parade. Mikey was his name. I couldn’t save him. I just have to keep telling myself that.
My mind ceases to stop replaying that moment. That moment that he was taken from me. My closest friend. My best friend. My brother. The booming of the cannons as the light was drained from behind his eyes. The medics wouldn’t let me get to him. If I would’ve stayed with him he wouldn’t be where he is now. In a black parade, waiting to be buried six feet under. I could’ve done something. Theres no use lying. I. Could. Have. Done. Something. Anything. I cannot take this pain right now. I need to go home.
As I made my way to my lovely abode all that played in my mind was that moment. Mikey hadn’t been old enough to go to war. Barely 17, but he insisted on coming. As I made my way up to my room I thought of what he would do if it had been me who got shot. As I sat on my bed I tried my best to blink back tears. I never cried. I will not show weakness now. Mikey wouldn’t want me to.
“Mr. Way?” I heard a voice ask. I looked up to find Vivian my house servant standing in my doorway. “What is it you want?” I asked a bit harshly. I was never harsh with her. I didn’t see any need of treating her poorly. Now I just needed to be alone with my thoughts. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for your loss. Mikey was a great person.” she told me.
I stood up and walked over to her my height adding to the intimidation. And I did something I never thought I would. I slapped her. Hard across the face. “You didn’t know him! Nobody knew him! Nobody cared! Only me! Don’t act any different toward him now that he’s gone! I don’t need your pity! Get out of my house!” I yelled at her, venom dripping in my voice. She turned and ran and I heard the front door open and close. I knew she wouldn’t be coming back. And I did yet another shocking thing. Something I didn’t think I’d ever do again my lifetime.
I cried.
