I Will Not Kiss You

The two boys were very noisy and kept running around the apartment, pretending to shoot each other. They ran into my room several times without knocking and then left the door open when they got bored of my room. I shouted at them after the fourth time and they kept doing it. I guessed they were doing it to annoy me, like when Ellis makes fun of me.

“Stop it!” I yelled.

Harry mimicked me, making his voice all high and mocking.

“Stop that.” I said calmly.

“Stop that.” He copied.

So I decided to be smart.

“How much wood could a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?” I chanted as fast as I could.

He blinked but didn’t copy me. A triumphant smile spread over my face. I used to do that to Mikey when he was a kid because he couldn’t do it. Actually, he can’t do it now. He’s asked me to teach him several times but I won’t because I’m nasty. I’m not really.

“Can you go away?” I said impatiently to Harry, lying back on my bed.

“Frank!” Dad yelled from the kitchen “Be nice to the boys.”

“I will when they’re nice to me.” I mumbled.

Harry went running off and I heard him telling tales moments later. I rolled my eyes at his nine year old logic and lay back on my bed, resting my head in my hands. Dad knocked on the door moments later and came in after I said ‘Yeah?’. He sat on the end of my bed and stared at me.

“What?”

“Why are you so resentful about the boys, Frank?”

“You what?”

“Why are so against them being here?”

I know what resentful means but Dad sometimes re-phrases his questions because he thinks I don’t know what he means.

“I’m not good with kids, Dad.”

“But you could try, y’know, make an effort.”

“I don’t like them.” I whined.

“I know, Frank,” He said “I know you find it hard but…please? Try for me?”

I didn’t say anything. He was starting to annoy me. It’s not that I don’t like kids, it’s just that I’m not used to them. It’s always been me. I don’t have a brother or a sister so I’m not used to other kids being around the house, unless Mikey comes over for dinner. I followed Dad out into the living room and settled down on the couch. The TV had been left on some children’s channel but Harry and Ben weren’t watching it so I changed it and began channel surfing.

“Hey!” Harry suddenly cried, pointing at the TV.

“What?” I snapped irritably “You’re not watching it.”

“So?” He demanded, trying to snatch the remote from my hand “We want it on!”

“Well I don’t. Plus I live here and you’re not watching it!”

“Put it back on.” He ordered, trying to pull the remote from me.

I retreated back from him, keeping a firm grip on the remote. He followed me and gripped my arm, trying to wrench my hand open. As soon as he touched me I shoved him as hard as I could, shouting ‘Get off of me’ very loudly. He stumbled backwards, lost his balance and fell onto his backside. It wouldn’t have hurt very much but he still burst into tears and went running into the kitchen to find his mother. I wondered if they were false tears and he’d just thought of sad things to make himself cry; like I do sometimes. Dad came out from the kitchen and started shouting at me.

“Why did you hit Harry?” He demanded.

“I didn’t!”

“So why the hell is he crying and saying you did?”

“I pushed him because-”

“I don’t care,” He interrupted “You really hurt him.”

“I pushed him because he touched me!” I cried, standing up “It wouldn’t have hurt! He only fell onto his ass. And why do you care so much? They’re not your kids! They’re hers. Why should I be nice to them? They’re not my brothers. What’s with the special treatment they’re getting, Dad? Prefer them to me do you-“

“Maybe I do!” He yelled, making me jump back “Maybe I do prefer them. ‘Cause they’re not picky, finicky retarded brats who make my life a living hell and don’t appreciate all the damn sacrifices I make for them, unlike some people round here!”

I knew that he was talking about me when he said ‘Some people’. There was a lump in my throat and a wetness was rapidly spreading through my eyes. I shook my head firmly, disagreeing with him. The first tear fell. And then another. And another. Dad was just a blurred outline through the tears of hurt.

“Frank? Frank, I’m sorry.” He said softly.

I ignored him. He swore under his breath and held his hand out as if he wanted us to shake hands but I hit it away.

“I hate you.” I said quietly.

Neither of us said anything and then Nadine made it worse by rushing in to see what the shouting was about. I stared at her accusingly through tear stained eyes.

“This is all your fault!”

Then I turned on my heels and went into my room, slamming the door. Of course I was thrilled to find Ben in my room. I was being sarcastic again. I wasn’t really. I was furious to find him sitting on my bed and holding, in his grimy little hands, my guitar. He ignored my presence and plucked hard on the top string. The top string is actually the bottom of the guitar. I always think of everything to be backwards on the guitar because of the strings and when you move your hand ‘down’ the neck towards the body of the guitar, you’re actually moving up the neck.

“Put that down and get out of my room!” I commanded.

He ignored me and over plucked the top string again. I told him to put it down again, saying ‘please’ to be polite even though I didn’t want to.

“My Mommy and your Daddy said I can do what I like.” He said.

“I don’t care! That’s my guitar you’re playing with. It’s not a toy. It’s an expensive musical instrument.”

“Your Daddy said.”

“Put it down.”

He plucked hard on the string again, making me wince. I blew a fuse. That means I got very, very angry. I pulled the guitar from him, roughly yanking the strap over his head and holding it out of his reach. He shouted angrily but I shouted louder, opening the door and shoving him hard out of the room and slamming the door shut.

I carefully put my guitar back on its stand and threw myself onto my bed, crying loudly into my pillow. I hate my Dad. I hate Nadine. I hate Harry and Ben. I hate me. I hate everyone. The only people who have never made me sad are Mom, Mikey and Gerard. They’re the only people I don’t hate. But I hate everyone else. I hate them all. I wish they didn’t exist and it was just me, Mom, Mikey and Gerard. Then we’d all be happy and wouldn’t ever fight because we all make each other happy.