Nothing in This World Can Be Endured Forever

That night, after he’d shoveled the drive way, cleaned the dinner mess up, and picked up the game room, Bill was sent downstairs for the night. The boy obeyed but tried to catch himself as he was pushed down the stairs, the door slamming and locking behind him. Landing in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, Bill huffed, picking himself up and quickly entering his room.

He sat on the mattress and pulled his school books onto the bed. He would at least try to understand the material. Opening his German book, Bill glanced up at the small window against the ceiling. The window faced out underneath the edge of the back deck, providing just enough light through the lattice for him to see the words on the page. But that light would be gone quickly and the pre-teen would be shrouded in a cold darkness that would leave him unable to do anything until he fell asleep.

The only good thing of the window being where it was, was that he could easily climb out of it and hide underneath the deck without being seen. There had been a table in the corner underneath the window for as long as he could remember and it was the perfect height for him to climb onto and out of the window.

Just as he was about to give up with the reading assignment, he heard a creaking from the stairs. His breath caught in his throat and his body instantly froze. His hazel eyes strained against the darkness to see a figure come into view of the doorway.

Bill relaxed. The figure was slight, not the thick build of Jörg.

“Hey,” Kaden whispered. He entered the dark room and sat on the bed beside Bill. “Are you…”

Bill looked at his text book, the white pages almost glowing in the darkness. He coughed harshly into his hand, a wetness covering his palm afterwards. Thinking nothing of it, he wiped the residue off on his pants and ignored the iron taste in his mouth.

“I brought food.” Kaden held out the paper plate. Bill couldn’t see what it was, but picked up the spoon and dug in, nonetheless. It wasn’t much, but it sated the hunger consuming the small boy. Kaden watched his brother shovel the food into his mouth in concern. The younger boy only paused between bites when he had to cough. The sound worried the elder brother.

“Thank you,” Bill mumbled through a mouthful. As Bill ate the food, Kaden shivered, cold in his pajamas. When Bill was finished, he grabbed the plate and stood, leaving the room without another word. The stairs creaked as the older boy climbed them, leaving the small boy alone in the cold darkness.

Bill closed his book, resigning to the fact that he wouldn’t be getting the work started anyway, and set it on the bare floor. He curled into a ball on the mattress, pulling his arms into his shirt and closed his eyes.

The pre-teen wondered if there would be any way to get Jörg to let him stay after school without angering the man. If he asked, he would be punished. If the school called home, he would be punished. If he tried to catch up and his grades didn’t improve before the holiday break the next week, he would be punished. If he did nothing and his grades kept slipping, he would be punished.

Falling asleep, Bill dreamt of the ways he would be able to please his father.

Sneaking upstairs wasn’t as easy as Kaden thought it was going to be. The basement door was right underneath the main staircase, across from Jörg’s office, which Jörg was occupying. The plate still in his hand, Kaden opened the door slowly, peering out to see his father pacing the office on the phone. He was talking so loudly that Kaden could hear him from the other side of the basement door.

“Do you even realize how fucking busy we’re going to be, Simone?” Jörg angrily asked.

Kaden froze where he was and listened in on the conversation.

“I know, I know. I was planning on seeing him Christmas Eve.” Jörg sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. Kaden watched his father as he stopped pacing and gave the floor a defeated look. “Here? For a week?”

Jörg was silent for a long time. He was nodding, listening to the other person. Kaden watched as he rubbed his hand over his face, sighing loudly again. “Yeah, that would work. I’ll pick him up.”

Jörg moved away from the door, out of Kaden’s sight and he took the opportunity to leave his hiding place. The boy darted into the dinning room, safe now that he was out of the hall way where Jörg would be able to see him. He skirted around the dinning table, his hand brushing the surface to keep his balance in the dark and quickly entered the kitchen through the connecting hallway.

He threw the plate away and snuck back into the hallway, intending to head upstairs real quick, then back down to the basement to speak with Bill. After the conversations they’ve had, he was sure the blonde would want to know about the phone call he’d overheard.

Up the stairs he went, his bare feet padding across the hardwood flooring. Once on the third floor, he quietly opened the linen closet and pulled out one of his old sheets and blankets from the back. He wouldn’t miss them and he was sure his parents wouldn’t either.

Yawning, Kaden took the blankets back down stairs, keeping his ears and eyes strained for the sound of his dad. He paused near the staircase as he heard Jörg cough and lock up his office, the hallway light flicking on. Kaden’s heart stopped. Jörg would be coming up the stairs that he was standing next to, in plain sight, with blankets in his arms when his bedroom was clearly in the opposite direction.

Panicking slightly, Kaden hurried back to the staircase and on the other side. Waiting with batted breath, Kaden peered around the corner, holding onto the blankets tightly as Jörg climbed the main staircase and turned towards his bedroom after turning off the lights.

Once the doors latched, Kaden let out the breath he’d been holding. He relaxed, but waited in his hiding spot for a few minutes longer. Once he was sure the coast was clear, the teenager slowly made his way down the stairs, carefully avoiding step seven that had a slight creak to it.

Once in the basement, Kaden hurried to Bill’s room and was about to tell Bill that it was just him and he’d brought blankets to keep him warm, but his eyes had adjusted to the darkness in time to see that Bill was curled into a ball.

A ball that was shivering slightly.

Frowning, Kaden put the blankets over his younger brother and tucked them around his small frame slightly. Bill sighed, relaxing into the mattress in his sleep. The elder boy’s frown deepened and he felt a pang of guilt. He should have brought the blankets down much sooner.

He headed back upstairs after wishing his brother a good night.

Tom lay awake in his bed staring up at the poster on his ceiling. His eyes trailed over the image illuminated from the moons light shining in through his window. His mind wouldn’t stop thinking.

And the more he thought, the more unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Tom couldn’t keep his mind off of Bill. The boy – no his brother, his twin for God’s sake! - was… so completely different from who Tom had imagined him to be. From the things his dad had told him over the phone, he was strange, but not… this.

He was not expecting, once finally meeting him after all these years, that Bill would be the complete opposite of him. No, he’d thought they’d at least have one thing in common.

After the divorce, Tom remembered (but really it was more of the things his mom had told him), Bill and Tom had been separated. Tom had lived with his mother and Bill with their father. At that time, they had lived in the same area of town, so the boys had been together nearly everyday, if not at a parents or relatives house, then at their daycare.

Then Simone had met Gordon. Tom’s stomach turned at the thought of him mom’s boyfriend. He was a good man, Tom had come to accept over the years, and he wasn’t overbearing like Tom had expected him to be when they moved in together.

But he wasn’t Dad.

And when they had moved when Tom was five, the visits with Bill had slowed to nothing. They had moved only a few towns away, a trip that took no longer than a half hour, but nothing was ever the same.

Tom remembered the phone calls. His mother in tears and being angry with Dad and Bill. Always Bill.

And Tom began hating his twin, too. He never came to Christmas and Easter. Never came over. Never was at Dad’s or with Dad when he visited.

It was as if he didn’t exist.

And after some time, Tom figured he didn’t. But the pictures on the walls, the only reminders that he was only half, told him something different.

And every time Tom looked at himself in the mirror, he wondered how his elusive brother was. He wished on every birthday candle, Christmas list, star and that special time of day that he would be able to see his brother again because those once a year school pictures weren’t enough for him. That was not enough proof that his brother truly existed.

He could only side with his Mom when time after time he was let down by Dad. Time after time he was left waiting for a father who would never show, for a brother he would never have, and for a war that would never end to do just that.

World War Three was way worse than the previous wars he’d learned about in school. WW3 was a day to day frustration of being the messenger when his parents wouldn’t speak to each other. Of hearing the fights over the phone (he would often pick up the other line). Of being stuck in the middle all alone when he wasn’t supposed to be the only one, by natures will, and yet he was the only one wanted.

Oh, yes, he was fully aware. Bill wasn’t a part of his family. He’d rejected their mother, had found a new one, and yet spent more time at Uncle Mike’s than at Dad’s. He was fully aware that he was the desired child. He had heard the words right out of Dad’s mouth plenty of times about how unfair it was that he ended up with Mom and he got stuck with Bill.

That’s what left Tom confused. He couldn’t count on his own father to be there to pick him up, and yet his father had wanted him to live with him. He wondered what Bill thought, because seeing him at school, he wasn’t as defiant as Tom thought he would be.

And the last time Tom had asked his dad about Bill…

Tom sat in the passenger seat of his dad’s SUV, watching the scenery go by on the return trip from a weekend at Dad’s. It had been just the two of them, like it usually was, and Tom wanted to know.

“Where’s Bill?” he blurted, his brothers name sounding wrong on his tongue. Turning to look at his dad, Tom knew right away he shouldn’t have asked. His father’s knuckles tightened on the wheal, his jaw flexed and his expression hardened.

It was silent for a long time. It wasn’t until they had taken Tom’s exit off the autobahn that Jörg finally spoke. “He’s fine. He spends more time at my brothers than home these days. And when he’s not there he’s with those friends of his.”

When they’d arrived at Tom’s house, Jörg said goodbye gruffly, not looking at him and barely waited for Tom to get out before he sped away. He didn’t return Tom’s calls for a month, missing his birthday once again.

When Tom had gotten home that night, Simone shocked him. Dad wanted him to spend Christmas break with him and his family. For once, Tom felt so excited to see his father, but he just hoped that his father would be able to keep his word this time.

He would get to spend two entire weeks with his father. Two weeks during a holiday that was normally father-less and full of disappointment. He would get to see Bill. No, he would get to know Bill, outside of school.

Bill.

Tom frowned at the thought of Bill’s appearance at school. He’d seen Jörg’s home, had met the rest of the family plenty of times, but Bill was the odd one out. He was not well groomed, not well put together and not up to the standards his father had expressed that every Kaulitz was supposed to have.

“You can’t just let your hair go like that, Tom,” his dad had chastised when he first let his hair grow out. “You’ve got to be well put together if you’re gunna be a son of mine. Your rats nest is far from that, Son.”

But why, then, was Bill such a mess? He couldn’t believe that Bill would be allowed to leave the house if Jörg took one look at the pre-teen. His mom wouldn’t let him out of the house if he looked like that. Why would it be any different for Bill when their father was definitely stricter that Simone was?

Tom’s brows furrowed even further as he thought. Why would Bill be enrolled into public school? The rest of Jörg’s children were enrolled at a private school in the city, so why would Bill be the exception? His father surely could afford it; there was no question about that.

Tom fell into an uneasy sleep full of dreams just as confusing and conflicting as his brain was.

Bill awoke slowly, blinking his eyes open and burying his face into his blanket. The pre-teen’s eyes shot open. He was warm – well warmer than usual – and a weight rested over his body. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he sat up and sure enough, he was covered in a blanket.

Bill sat staring at the material for a long moment. How did this get down here? Had Jörg let him have some bedding? No, Jörg never let Bill have that amenity.

The light filtering in through the window, creating a pattern on the blanket, made Bill stand and carefully fold the bedding. He would have to hide his amenity. If Jörg had found him in possession of the blankets and he had not authorized Bill to have them…

Bill quietly padded across the cold cement and stashed the bedding away in an empty box on the grey metal shelves by the stairs. For as long as Bill could remember, Jörg had never touched the items on those selves, nor would he notice that a box of bedding may be out of place.

Bill was just changing into his spare set of clothes when footsteps were heard on the stairs. Freezing in place with one leg lifted to put in his pants, the other already in, Bill watched the doorway with wide eyes.

Jörg frowned at the sight of the boy mid-dress. “Take a shower. Breakfast is on the island.” Jörg stood in the doorway for a lingering moment, watching the boy carefully as he continued to stay frozen in place, looking at Jörg’s feet. Satisfied, Jörg turned and walked up the stairs.

Bill quickly stepped into his pants and barely finished buttoning them up before he was up the stairs. He didn’t know what to do first. Eat or shower? Gauging himself for a brief second, he chose to shower first. He didn’t feel as if he was going to pass out yet, but he did feel disgustingly slimy.

In the bathroom across from the kitchen was a pile of clothes. Inspecting them, Bill realized that they would fit him. Quickly, the pre-teen disrobed and showered, savoring the warm water cleansing his skin for a minute longer that he normally would have been allowed.

Dry and in his new clothes (which Bill was happy included a turtle neck and dark blue hoodie), Bill walked into the kitchen. Jörg was leaning against the countertop, a red coffee mug in his hand. Bill instantly stood up straighter, his head bowed to the floor. He waited for Jörg to acknowledge his presence.

“On the island. Hurry and eat, the bus will be here soon.” Jörg grumbled, his voice deep and harsh.

Bill looked up and grabbed the bowl off the island. Inside was oatmeal, enough to make Bill’s eyes widen at the amount. Grabbing up the spoon that had laid beside the bowl, Bill began shoveling the cold oatmeal into his mouth. He ate quickly, enjoying the unflavored breakfast that was truly his first in years.

But a nice shower, new clothes and food were not something given without reason. Something was going on, and that made Bill nervous. The last time he’d been treated this way had been after the first accident. Kathleen had been there and given him a bath and food to calm his crying.

Glancing over at Jörg, Bill tensed. The man was watching him gobble the food down. He felt uneasy as he finished the meal quickly. Setting the bowl down, Bill put his hands in his lap, unsure on what he was supposed to do now. He could hardly wash the dishes he’d dirtied like he was sure he was expected to do because Jörg was standing in the way of the sink and had no intentions of moving from his place by the looks of him.

Sitting there for a few more agonizing moments, Bill was about to address the man on what he wanted him to do when Jörg spoke. “Go. The bus is here.”

Bill scrambled out of the room, quickly shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his bag from just inside the basement stairs. He hurried out of the house, running down the icy drive and toward the bus stop just as the bus was closing its doors. Panting and trying to push himself faster despite the cold freezing his muscles, Bill managed to make it to the shelter just as the driver was about to pull off. He stood there, coughing roughly as the driver stopped and opened the doors once again.

Thankful that he wouldn’t have to walk, Bill clambered on the bus and scanned the seats. Shoulders slumping, he walked down the isle, pausing here and there for other students to move out of the aisle so he could continue. He passed Tom and glanced at him. He was sitting against the window, talking with two guys in the seat behind his. Both Bill didn’t recognize, but gave it little thought as he moved passed and sat in the very back.

Unfortunately, he was stuck sitting next to Joey, after the bus driver had yelled at the boys to move so they could get on to the next stop.

“Oh, look guys! Jew here has new clothes!” Joey exclaimed as the bus took off down the road. “Did your daddy finally get a raise?” The boy nudged Bill roughly. The smaller boy looked at bag in his lap, heat creeping up the back of his neck.

Derek, one of Joey’s buddies, leaned over the seat and grabbed the younger boy’s hair, roughly pulling his head back. Joey laughed and pulled down Bill’s collar, exposing his yellow skin. “Looks like you’re out of trouble now.” Bill struggled to get away from the bullies.

“What do you think he did, Joe?” Derek asked, gripping Bill’s hair tighter and pulling his head up further, exposing more of his neck for the boys to see. Fading bruises of various colors, from yellow to a faint blue, patterned his exposed skin.

Tears of shame welled up in Bill’s eyes as the boys speculated the scenarios on how Bill got his bruises. Releasing his grip on Bill’s hair, Derek pushed his head away forcefully. “Who else is beating you up, Fag?” Derek asked, leaning over the seat, crowding Bill. “I bet he beats you, doesn’t he? Pry is ashamed to have you as a son. Who’d want a Jewish fag for a son, anyway?” Derek probed, punching Bill in the back of his ribs.

Crying out, Bill hacked roughly into his sleeve. Tears escaped despite his eyes being clenched shut in pain and the taste of iron filled his mouth as the cough attack wracked his sore body.

“What is wrong with you? I didn’t hit you that hard!” Derek exclaimed, patting Bill harder on the back as he breathed heavily.

Hunched over himself with his hand pressed against his rib cage, Bill breathed cautiously, grimacing from the pain and taste. Joey looked down at his seat mate with knit eyebrows. What was wrong with this boy?