Is Forgiveness Really an Option?

Before he knew it he had fallen asleep and was being woken up by his father. He looked at the clock. 1pm. His dad had a tray in his hand. Derrick looked at him and made an effort to sit up. He looked at the tray to see what must be his lunch. His dad handed it to him then sat on the chair and looked at him.
‘Your mom said you were asleep. We’ve all already eaten. She came up to see you. How you feeling?’
Derrick shrugged. The answer was he felt like crap. He had upset everyone pointlessly.
‘I feel ok.’
he put the food beside him. He wasn’t hungry. He couldn’t stand the smell of it. His mom had bought sushi rolls. Usually they would be gone in five minutes. But this time he wasn’t eating. No one could make him.
‘You’re okay but refusing to eat? Derrick.. Your mom doesn’t hate you. Nor do I, that’s the magical thing about being a parent. You forgive.’
He nodded. He knew his dad was right.
‘I know you’re pissed at me though Derrick. I know what you’re thinking. No, I’m not the best dad on earth. I’m far from it. I nearly had you killed. But I do this cause I don’t want you to end up the same. I want you to keep Shane safe even if that means giving your life to do so.’
Derrick nodded. He didn’t need his dad to say this for him to know it. He already did. He would give his life for Shane. Without question or doubt. That kid meant the world to him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if any harm came to him due to something he had done.
His dad got up and walked nearer sitting on the edge of bed putting his hand onto Derricks leg.
‘Son, you can stay as long as you need. Just, try do what’s good for you, try stop drinking. But so you know. The Jack’s in the cupboard downstairs if you cant. If you do that though you wont get Jenny or Shane back. You need to try with her.’
He patted Derricks leg then stood.
‘Eat ya food.’
With that he left the room and headed downstairs. Derrick waited. He heard the front room door close. He moved the tray onto the desk. He looked at the glass which was on it. It was full of a strange yellow liquid. It looked like soda. But his mom had never let him have soda. That’s where he had got his idea of not letting Shane have soda. Even when he was a kid he hadn’t had soda in the house. The only way he had had any was if he was having dinner at a friends and was given some at the table and until he was sixteen that was rare.
He sat up and took the glass drinking a little. He couldn’t believe it. Mountain Dew. But. Where had she got that? She wouldn’t go out and buy it specially for him would she? He wasn’t ill. Only hung over and depressed. Both could be considered as self inflicted. He gulped it down then ate the food. She knew how to get him still. He would give her that. His mother hadn’t lost the ability to be a mother.
He looked around the room. It seemed empty, once upon a time, not so long ago when he was living here this room was covered in his brothers posters. Now the walls were white and bare. It looked boring. Any color would be better than white. Gray would add a bit of life. The room was so empty it scared him. Then something in the corner of the room caught his attention.
It was large, red bodied. Long oak neck. His eyes reached the top and laid themselves on the name. ‘Gibson’ He stood and walked over picking up the guitar. This had been his. His Granddad had bought it for him when he was young. He had been about seven and his granddad wasn’t well. He knew it was the last thing he would buy him.
He had lost that things years ago and all the time it had been in his brothers bedroom? Wow. Well now it had come back to its rightful owner. He carried it back over to the bed. Where was his amplifier when he needed it? He had left it in his studio cause he was loaning it to a band. Oh well. He would have to use it without. That would be if he could even remember how to play.
He hadn’t picked up a guitar to play it in eleven years. Surely it would come back naturally? His family had always said when you learn something you can forget it but it will always be there when you need it. It will come back to you. Naturally. He didn’t believe it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to play. But it was worth a try.
He placed his fingers onto the first E and played the string, Then the B and played, then the A and played, Then D and played, then G and then the last E and played. It was in tune too. He didn’t need to fiddle.
He played the things he remembered starting with the chords. Then to the songs and riffs he had learnt to play. Metallica, Motley Crue, Ozzy Osbourne. The people he had grown up idolizing. He was shredding in hours. He didn’t have a pick but he didn’t care. The strings were flowing over his fingers like water in the bath. It didn’t hurt one bit. It relaxed him. This was what he was missing. His old life how it used to be.
Just sitting in his room and shredding till the sun went down and the nabors complained. Or playing till his fingers bled and a hour after. This is how he had made his pocket money in school. He would go into Jacksonville centre and play. He’d make fifty bucks by the end of it and could buy some new strings to replace the ones he had bust up shredding for America.
He used to dream of being in a band. Where had that gone? He could have done it. He could still do it. Make his own album of covers. He couldn’t write the songs, he could make his own riffs. But what was a riff without lyrics? That’s what he would do. He would take this home with him. Then take it to work and produce his own album. A cover to metallica and the greats. Perhaps he would put a few of his own riffs in there for little extras. It seemed like a plan and the best thing was he had the technology and the power at hand to do so. And that power, it felt good.

The bedroom door opened and his brother walked in and looked at him. He smiled as he saw him playing. He hadn’t heard Derrick do this since he had taken the guitar. He had to admit he liked it when Derrick played. It had always been jealous of his skills with guitars. He made it look effortless. Though he knew his brother had spent years just learning to get to this point he still couldn’t help but think he did it all naturally. At times it pissed him off. At others it made him happy. After all he wanted Derrick to be prosperous and live a great life and be happy, that’s what made him happy.
What pissed him off though was when his brother would show off. When they were young Derrick would show off in front of his friends. That wasn’t so bad. It was when he showed off in front of his families friends. Everyone would praise him and forget his brother existed.
Derrick looked up to see his brother standing there staring. He stopped playing and looked at his brother.
‘Hey, can I help you?’
His brother shook his head.
‘Just came to check your cool. But you are.. Glad you found it.’
Derrick looked at the guitar and back at his brother.
‘Yea. No thanks to you huh?’
His brother blushed. So Derrick now knew he had taken it. So what better than what he had thought till now. He thought it had been taken when he was at school. No his brother had simply picked it up from school for him and forgot to say. Or something along those lines he thought.
‘I guess. Anyways Derrick. I came to talk to you.’
‘Diesel.’ Derrick sighed. ‘I’m busy’
His brother looked up. Derrick hadn’t said his name since they were kids. He’d just call him ‘You.’ He did think Derrick had forgotten what his name was. Clearly though he hadn’t. Diesel smiled and nodded.
‘Leave you too it then bro.’
He left the room and went into his and sat on the bed. Derrick didn’t understand. He would kill to work with his little brother. He knew what It took and he could do it. Happily. He would. But Derrick had never given him a chance to get in. It seemed he wasn’t going to. Which sucked. His little brother didn’t pay attention to him anymore. He just dismissed him like he didn’t matter.