When I awoke, I was standing up. Over my bed. Dark as night. My hair was wet in my face. Was that sweat? My wrists ached as they were being held tightly behind my back. I was struggling to catch my breath. My body was buzzing and ready to go and pained in every muscle.

The bone crushing grip on my wrists was quickly attributed to my father. I felt the knick in his thumb that he got when he was playing hockey at my age. His sour smelling cologne that was wearing off on his clothes. His heavy, angry breathing.

He shook me and pushed me down onto the bed in front of me. I spun around to face him. “What did you do?” he yelled in my face, spitting and seething like a grizzly bear.

My head was racing for an answer. It was pointless, I had no idea. Did he catch us together? Did you lie again? Was this the end for me?

I felt the feeling of failure wash over me. This was my end. I wasn’t going back to Reynard’s . I felt the tears well up knowing that life was drawing to a close.

“What are you talking about?” I screamed back, letting go of all my fears and frustrations. I was so defensive cause it was my only defense.

“To your brother. What did you do?” he shouted, pacing the room with an agitation I only saw when he was really furious.

This was too much. I needed an explanation. I needed you by my side. I got up and ran for the door before Dad could stop me.

The house was dark except for a stream of light from the hall bathroom. I ran for it. I stopped in the doorway, peering inside.

That’s how I found you.

Sitting on the toilet seat. Mom hunched over you with a wet rag. You looked straight at me. Your face was swollen and turning all sorts of purple and blue shades. Your bloody nose was dribbling down over your lips and chin. A trail of tears reflected in the bathroom light. Your wonder eyes might have been the only thing I recognized. But now they were filled with sadness and hurt and tragedy.

“Get away from him,” Dad shouted as he caught up to me. Shoving me against the wall.

“Stop!” you shouted from your seat, and everyone turned to face you, confused. “It’s not his fault,” you said after a moment. “He was sleep walking.”

Everyone processed the idea. “Gerard, is it true?” Mom’s eyes turned towards me and for the first time, I noticed that she was crying too.

“I have no idea what just happened,” I said. What else could I say? No combination of words could make this better.

“Mom, Dad. Let me talk to him,” you said.

The parents looked at you again. I could feel their doubt in me. They thought I would hurt you again. As if I ever really meant to.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Mom asked you. She was so sad.

“Positive. He won’t hurt me now that he’s awake.”

Mom exited the bathroom and her and Dad began walking slowly down the steps, staring back every now and then to make sure you were still alive.

When they were out of sight, you opened the door all the way. “Please come in.” You seemed to be begging me. The one with the black eyes and bloody nose was begging [i]me.[/i] The Monster.

I sat down on the edge of the tub, across from your seat. You shut the door before sitting down. “Are you okay?” you asked.

“Are you seriously asking me if I’m okay? Have you seen yourself?” I was shocked and mournful. I couldn’t stop staring at the things I had done.

“My injuries are only skin deep. Yours, as I have come to know, are to the bone.”

I couldn’t deny that. I was fucked up. That’s for sure.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You were sleeping and I was watching. You began to stir and I tried to talk you back to sleep. But you just got up and started yelling at me.” You went silent. It scared me.

“What did I say?” I prodded.

You sighed aloud. “You were all, ‘You ruined everything! I could have had a perfect life, but you threw it away. You had to be sent away for an incurable disease. Can’t you see your relapsing? Can’t you see your never gonna change? You’re never coming back. I hate you.’”

I sat silent for a moment. Wishing that that wasn’t true. That this was all a joke or a dream.

“Gerard,” you spoke again. “You thought I was you.”

I nodded. I knew that. “I’m so sorry, Mikey.”

“What can I say?” I heard the tears in your throat. “All I want is for you to be better. That’s all I want. And you’re doing all these awful things and setting up all these walls around yourself and I can’t even hate you for it. You’re so innocent, yet the only one I can blame.”

I hung my head, ashamed. I couldn’t apologize again. The sorry’s meant nothing. It was too late. “I’ve already lost myself. I can’t lose me [i]and[/i] you in the process. I’ll have nothing else left.”

“What do you want from me, Gerard? Put in to plain words, what I can do to make this better.” You were so focused and ready to follow my lead. And I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

I was repulsive. A shell of a real boy. What had I done? What I become? That the most perfect boy in the universe had to ask me what to do?

“Kiss me,” I said simply. The words had little emotion in them.

Your face softened. “What?” you whispered.

“Kiss me,” I said again.

You starred at me and I saw the static channel reflect in your pupils. You were speechless.

But I wasn’t paralyzed. I got up off the tub and went to you. I grabbed your bruised cheek and laid my lips upon yours. The feeling was so electric that all I could do was buzz and brim and sing on the inside.

You seemed to be frozen in place. Unmoving. Even your lips felt flustered and shocked against mine. The taste of blood still present.

I pulled away from you. Looking deep into your eyes. Seeing them break from fear to a coldness I never saw before. Distant. You looked away from me, uncomfortable.

“Go to bed,” you whispered to me.

“Mikey,” I said without faltering.

“Please, Gerard. Leave me alone. Go to bed.”

I backed away from you. Taking my hand off your cheek. I watched you hunch over your knees as I reached for the doorknob. What was wrong? I wanted to say something. I wanted to do something. But what?

With ideas ran dry and sadness overflowing from my heart, I opened the door, turned down the hall and cried myself into a deep, relentless sleep.