Blood Brothers

I followed the small crowd out of the courtroom with a heavy heart. A seven-year sentence may have been a gift of the law, but it was completely unfair to him. Never before had I wanted to tell his story to someone just to keep him from suffering the punishment. This whole thing was nothing more than a product of the life he’d been forced to live and the life he’d come so short of living.

I heard soft crying next to me and knew who it had to be. Both Ms. Way and Alicia were fighting to hold back their sobs, but neither one was succeeding. I gave a deep sigh, knowing that Mikey’s mother had to be going through the same mental torture I was, though it must have been multiplied immensely. She looked up at me with tearful eyes and looked as if she was about to say something, but she remained silent.

I visited Mikey as often as I could while he was in prison. He seemed incredibly out of place there, and I could tell he was losing hope day by agonizing day. Before long he was on anti-depressants and quickly growing dependent on them. I tried to help him, but I could only do so much. I had become one of the editors of a publishing company in the city, and while it wasn’t the easiest job I’d ever had, it did take up a lot of my time, as I expected it would. My visits slowly dwindled from once a week to once a month as I became buried beneath my work.

As Mikey’s life plummeted further into the depths of misery, Frank’s situation improved considerably, if that were even possible. I attended one of his political rallies as he campaigned against the current aging governor of the state. It was almost certain he would win. He had married Jamia Nestor, a pretty and popular socialite, but I knew it was hardly what he wanted. His mother had to have had a hand in it somehow. Marriage for money seemed to be her favorite thing.

Three years passed uneventfully. Frank only became more successful with time, as I expected. I was coming home from work one day when I saw a familiar person trudging down the street ahead of me, staring listlessly at the sidewalk. I slowed my pace when I neared him.

“Mikey?”

He looked up at me, startled. I was a little taken aback by his appearance myself. His eyes had darkened and dulled, now filled with fear instead of the lively spark they had once had. He seemed years older than he should have been. He said nothing in response; I wondered if he even recognized me.

“…you’re that teacher,” he said absentmindedly. Before I could say anything else, he kept walking. Curious, I followed him. He lived not more than two blocks from me. I felt sick when I realized what part of town it was; not exactly the worst, but now his mother, in her small, quaint house in the country, was better off than him. He didn’t even seem to realize it as he walked up to one particular door and opened it.

“Hey,” I heard Alicia say as he stepped inside. One of the windows was partially cracked open; I assumed it was due to the abnormal heat of the late summer day. The sun had nearly fallen, but the air had been thoroughly baked throughout the last several hours and hadn’t cooled down yet.

“Daddy!” a young girl’s voice cried as she ran forward to embrace him. I smiled sadly at this.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go pick out a movie for us to watch, okay?” Alicia said sweetly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay mommy.” The girl ran out of the room, and the atmosphere returned to its ominous state. I listened as Mikey walked across the floor to something. It sounded like he opened a door, maybe a cabinet, and began looking through it.

“What are you doing?” Alicia asked, sounding more than a little accusing.

“Looking for my meds,” Mikey answered slowly.

“Listen, Mikey…I’ve told you. They’re just garbage. You should stop taking them.” I could tell she was trying to euphemize it as much as possible. Her pleading face was clearly audible in her words.

“Why?” he asked blankly. “I need…I need to take them.”

“Mikey, you’ve-”

“No!” he said in a frightened tone. “He said…the doctor, he said…about my nerves, and how I get depressed…and I’ve gotta take them ’cause they make me better…”

“I get depressed,” Alicia said, struggling to control her voice, “but I don’t take those. You don’t need those, Mikey.”

“Leave me alone,” he insisted sharply. “I can’t deal with this. I’m not well. The doctor said, didn’t he, I’m not well…I can’t…I can’t do things.” He sighed. “Where did you put them?”

“Mikey…you promised…”

“I know I promised, but I can’t do without them,” he said stubbornly.

“Look,” Alicia said darkly, “we’ve managed to sort ourselves out this far, but what’s the use if-”

“We sorted ourselves out?!” he shouted, cutting her off. “Do you think I’m really stupid?”

“What?” she asked quietly. Mikey’s tone became low and accusing.

“You sorted it out. You and…and Governor Frank Iero! Now give me my pills, I need them.”

“And what about what I need?” she countered. “I need you…I love you.”

Her statement was met with silence. I heard her sigh and walk a few steps, then take the bottle of pills out of wherever she had hidden them. Mikey gratefully unscrewed the lid and took however many he thought he needed.

I turned and walked away, the ginger glow of the sunset blinding me as I tried not to cry.