This Is Our Fate

I don't know how it happened. One second my legs are dangling on a swing set, the next I'm curled up next to a quiet, naked form draped across my matress. My stomach rumbles and I realize I haven't eaten anything today. I crawl out of bed and pull on a pair of discarded jeans, trying to keep the noise down. I close the bedroom door silently, taking one last glimpse at my older brother sprawled across the sheets. His face is one of utter bliss, but even in his peaceful slumber, there's a look of pain and apprehension etched into his features. I walk quietly outside, slipping into my car and starting up the engine.

I decided to go grab something for dinner. Gerard was too exhausted to go anywhere, I can't cook for shit, and I'm pretty sure whatever was in my fridge wasn't fit for human consumption.

That's when my phone rings.

"Bob?"

He's breathing fast and sounds panicked, "Mikey! God, Gerard's gone missing and I can't reach his phone. I'm freaking out."

I sigh and lean over onto the roof of my car, "He's with me Bob. He had a rough night last night."

His voice drops and his breathing seems to be easier, "I know he had a bad night... I-I... when did you find him?"

I roll my eyes and walk back into the house, shrugging off my jacket, "What happened last night?"

There's a tangible slice of silence, the sounds of crackling and traffic flowing out of the speaker, "I walked in on him doing drugs, and we got into a fight..."

He's holding something back, I can tell. Might as well go in guns blazing.

"Did you hit him, Bob?"

More silence, and I can hear Gerard rustling around in the bedroom. "Bob, fuckin' answer me. What the fuck happened last night?"

"I... he... he was snorting coke, Mikey! What do you expect?!" he screams, and I can practically see his face flush red with anger.

Rage bubbles up in my stomach, but it's quickly washed away with the realization he'd actually abused my older brother.

"You know what, Bob? I could give two shits what he was doing. He's your fucking boyfriend. Get the fuck out of his life or I'll call the cops."

I snarl at the end of the sentence, my fingers trembling with the overwhelming urge to slam the phone shut and go back to my bedroom. He coughs and starts stammering into the phone.

"Lemme talk to him, Gimme another chance. I love him!"

I rub the bridge of my nose, and huff a furious 'fine' into the mouthpiece. I stomp into the bedroom, slamming the phone down in Gerard's hand and storming out into the kitchen. I grab a beer out of the fridge and slide down the wall.

Even when he's asleep, Gerard can find ways to fuck up my life.

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"Mikes? You awake?"

I crack open an eye and run a hand through my hair. What time is it?

"It's 11:34, Mikes."

Did I say that out loud? Fuck, my back hurts. I sit up, realizing I've fallen asleep on my couch. Gerard's leaning over me, eyes dark and bloodshot. He looks like he's been crying, or toking up on my balcony. I massage the back of my neck, yawning loudly.

"Whaddayu want Gee?"

He sniffles quietly, "A ride home, Bob's at work until 1. He's been working overtime... y'know, for some extra money."

I roll my eyes, "I can't believe you're going back to that bullshit."

He crosses his arms and glares darkly at me, "It's not bullshit, Mikey. He loves me and he's gonna get help. And I'm starting my second job on Thursday so we'll have more money and a nicer place to live."

I scoff at his feeble excuses, "More money for what? For drugs? I'm pissed that he hit you, but goddammit Gerard. Cocaine?! What's wrong with you?"

He lowers his head and tries to form words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. For years I'd put up with his mistakes, cleaning up after him when ever he fucked up and didn't have the energy or power to fix it. He looks down and starts playing with the frayed ends of his boxers. All of his clothes are ratty and torn, he can't afford the nice brands I'm used to. The more I think about it, he can't afford any of the things I take for granted. Gerard shifts, rubbing his bare chest and nibbling on his puffed lower lip. I rip my eyes away from his nearly nude body and stare out the window, watching lines of traffic whiz through the intersection.

"I need it Mikey... it makes me feel normal."

I stand up in flash, pushing him away from me, making his topple backwards over my coffee table. I ignore the loud crash and the sounds of him whimpering for me, making my way back into my bedroom. I sit on the edge of my bed, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my palms. The entire house is silent for a few tense moments, until I hear him stir and stumble around. There's a heavy thud from the kitchen and it's silent again.

"Gee?"

Nothing.

Fuck.

"Gerard? Come on, answer me..."

I stand up and walk shakily out of my room, eyes scanning for my brother. The front door is still closed. The noise came to the kitchen.

"Gerard, fuckin' come on."

His cell phone starts ringing in the living room; the shrill, electronic shriek filling the tiny space. I think it's Bob calling, I dunno, I'm kinda afraid to go check.

"Gee, your phone is ringing."

"Nnn-uhhh"

I tear my eyes away from the pile of glass and wood that was my coffee table, and look towards the large marble island in my kitchen. There's a red smear across the left side, and taking in a deep breath, I creep around to the other side.

Oh fuck, what have I done?