Struggles

Despite dad’s threats and warnings, seeing Michael again was great. After the initial meet-and-greet I got us all some ice tea. I was going to enjoy this time with him, even if I paid for it later.
At around ten dad said he had to get some sleep because he had to work in the morning. "I'll leave you two boys to get reacquainted." dad laughed, with a special look to me, reminding me to keep my mouth shut. Once he was gone Michael punched me playfully in my arm, a big grin on his face.
"So, how's my little bro been?" he asked. I took a sip of my tea, analyzing a safe answer.
"Good." I answered, hesitating. Michael picked up on it.
"Come on, show me where I'm staying." he stood up. I followed suit and led him to my/his room. He looked around, stopping on the desk with my journal on it.
"Anyways, so this is where you'll be staying for the next two nights." I said in as cheerful a voice as I could manage.
"Mark, sit down okay?" Michael said motioning to the bed. I did as he told me and he joined me. "How are you really?" he asked.
"I told you, I'm good." I said, looking at my hands and not him. Even I didn't believe my lie, for some reason it was harder to lie to Michael. As much as I've lied to people before, it wasn't as easy with him.
"Marcus, don't lie to me. Is dad still hitting you?" Michael asked, putting his hand on my knee. I shook my head no, eyes closed, trying to not cry. Being with Michael was great, but he made me feel like dirt for lying to him.
"No." I said, my breath shuddering. Michael shook his head in disgust; he didn’t believe me for a second.
"Marcus, when was the last time dad hit you?" Michael pushed, now looking at me with such sincere and sad eyes that I had to look away again.
"B...before you...left. Before...your last warning to him." I stumbled. Michael crossed his arms. "I...I swear!"
"Okay, fine. I won't push you anymore, you'll tell me when you're ready to tell me I suppose." Michael whispered sadly. Hearing him be so sad made me want to cry for him.
"I'm gonna go to bed, okay? I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." I said standing up.
"Hey, this is your room, right?" Michael asked. I nodded. "If I'm sleeping in here where're you sleeping?"
"The attic, there's a bed up there. I offered dad for you to stay in my room so he wouldn't hurt his back in the attic." I said, hand on the door frame. Michael shook his head.
"Let me sleep up there, I don't wanna kick you out of your room!" Michael offered. I shook my head.
"Nah, it's ok. Besides I haven't been really sleeping in the bed lately anyways." I said before I left the room. I went up to the attic and lay down to go to sleep. The only thought in my head as I drifted off to sleep was that I still left my journal in my room downstairs.

I woke up as the sunlight came thought the small attic window and hit my face. Groggily I got dressed in the same clothes as the day before and went downstairs to make dad and Michael breakfast. Dad was sitting at the table, eggs and toast in front of him, steaming hot tea in one hand and the newspaper in the other; he was all dressed for work. When I turned to the kitchen I saw Michael, spatula in hand, eggs in frying pan, frying pan on hot stove.
"I was gonna make breakfast." I said to him. Dad grunted.
"Michael wanted to make us his special eggs again, since it's been so long. You can make breakfast tomorrow Marcus." dad said, setting down the newspaper and standing up. "Well Mike, and I hate to eat and run, especially from my own house and son, but I gotta get to work." dad said with a chuckle, Michael chuckled with him. Dad left and Michael finished mine and his breakfast.
"So, how're you this morning?" Michael asked as he got me some orange juice.
"I'm well rested, how did you sleep last night?" I answered, looking at the eggs in front of me.
"Not too well, had a lot to think about." he said sitting next to me.
"Like what?" I asked, taking a small bite of the eggs.
"Marcus, I'm sorry. I didn't originally mean to...but I couldn't help it, you were lying to me." Michael apologized. Slowly my brain grasped what he was saying. I stood up quickly, shoving my chair behind me. I walked to my room and found my journal on the little table next to my bed. I grabbed it and held it close to my chest.
"How could you?!" I screamed. I knew it was my fault for leaving it out and not taking it up with me, but he still read it!
"Marcus, you were lying to me, you had no intentions of tell me what was really going on here! I had to know!" Michael defended himself.
"You had no right! You don't really care, and you had no right to go through my stuff! Just cause you're sleeping in my room doesn't mean you can read my shit!" I yelled, my body swaying a little.
"Marcus I do too care! I worry about you all the time!" Michael yelled back. I shook my head.
"Oh, is that so? Then where the hell have you been? You haven't visited us in God knows how long! You were the only one who could stop dad, even for a little, and you abandoned me for that girl! I'm happy you found true fucking love!" I screamed, now pissed at him for leaving me alone with dad for all this time.
"Don't you dare talk about her like that! She's my fiancé and will soon be a part of this family, so you better treat her with respect, even when she's not here!" Michael yelled more pissed that I insulted his 'fiancé' than about anything else I said.
"Well congratulations for her, she's gonna join a fucked up dysfunctional family! Oh, wait, you don't intend for her to really join us, do you? You're main concern is you joining her family, that way you can ditch us, ditch me!" I yelled, swaying a little more.
"You know nothing about our plans for the future! You don't know my..." Michael began before I cut him off.
I yelled. I placed my hand on the set of drawers next to myself, so I could stabilize myself. Everything in front of my started to spin and I dumbly wondered why.
"Marcus, what I was going to say was that you don't know my reasons for staying away! She's pregnant and I've been helping her out! So don't you go...Marcus? Marcus!" Michael yelled as I tumbled to the ground, head swimming. I could barely hear Michael before my mind went blank.

I slowly opened my eyes, trying to remember what had happened, and why I was in my bed. Suddenly everything that had happened came slamming into my mind. Then I became aware of a warm hand on my arm. I looked over to see Michael looking at me with a worried expression on his face.
Even though I wanted to rip my hand away from him and yell at him again for reading my journal, I couldn't. No matter how mad I was at him, or how pissed he was at me; I knew I'd messed up.
"I'm so sorry Michael." I said sitting up. He looked at me sullenly, his feelings plainly sketched on his face. "I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over you reading my journal. Yeah, it's my private journal that nobody's ever laid eyes on but me, but I guess in a weird way my leaving it in the room and forgetting about it was my subconscious yelling at me to tell someone." I said, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
"You should rest for a bit." Michael said as though he hadn't heard what I'd said. Seeing my expression he added "Don't be sorry. I wanted you to tell me yourself, brother-to-brother, but I guess nothing works out that way. I shouldn't have stressed you out like that, I'm the reason you passed out." Michael said, trying to get me to lie back down.
"No you're not. I know I shouldn't exert myself, getting worked up isn't good for my health." I said simply. Michael shook his head, so I grabbed my journal and started flipping through it, looking for a specific entry.
Finding it I read "Today I passed out during an English test. I didn't get any sleep last night 'cause dad locked me up again without dinner. Then he woke me up and flung me out of the closet so that I could clean bright and early in the morning. I didn't clean good enough or fast for him, so he slapped me around some. Anyways, I was taking an English test and all the words started getting mashed together and my desk started to spin. Next thing I knew I was waking up in the nurses’ office. She told me it was stress related and that I needed to calm myself down. I nodded, and quickly ran away the second I was allowed. I know she'd seen the bruises." I closed my journal and set it on my lap. "It's happened a few other times too, mostly when dad's not around, y'know? I've been pretty good at controlling my stress levels." I didn't look him in the face, I wasn't sure I'd be able to.
"Marcus, you should get medical attention. There can be long term effects to the amount of stress you're always put under. I'll take you, if you want, right now I'll take you." Michael said, putting his hand back on mine.
“I can't, you know what will happen." I said, pulling my hand gently from his and hugging it to my chest, trying to stop it from trembling. "I can't risk that Mike, I really can't."
“Marcus, I know it’d be hard, but there is protection for abuse victims. You’d be completely safe, I promise, but first you have to take the first step. That first step involves telling someone, besides me. I could report it, but I’ve got a feeling you’d hate me, even for a little bit, so I’m not gonna do it…Unless you tell me to, of course.” Michael said; his eyes a blazing fire.
I shook my head; I didn’t want to risk it. (Now do you see what I meant by I had tons of chances to do something but never did?) I slowly got out of bed and went to my door frame. “Don’t worry Mike, I got this.”
I heard Mike follow me into the kitchen as I got a glass down for some water. As I was sipping the water there was a knock on the door. I looked up, knowing who it was, and went back to my water. Michael walked to the door and opened it.
“Oh!” an exasperated gasp came from the open door.
“Come on in Ms. Bridge!” I called out. Michael stepped aside, a bewildered look on his face. Ms. Bridge came in and looked from me to him. “Ms. Bridge, this is my older brother, Michael.”
“Hello Ma’am.” Michael said politely closing the door.
“Oh, um, well…Hello! Marcus…was he in a…similar situation to you?” Ms. Bridge asked, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck. Michael looked at me, wondering what she knew.
“Um, not exactly Ms. Bridge. Michael’s my dad’s…uh…favorite.” I looked at my feet as Ms. Bridge shook her head. “But…don’t think bad of him!” I defended. “He’s a good guy!”
“I…I believe you Marcus.” Ms. Bridge hesitated. “But, that’s not why I’m here.” I motioned to the living room couch and we all sat down.
“Go on.” I said warily.
“Well, Marcus, I’ve already discussed with you how I’m going to report your father for abuse, correct?” she began. I nodded, avoiding Michaels gaze. “I also want to put in a request for the immediate termination of parental rights. Essentially that means…”
“That dad can in no way have anything to do with me until the day of my eighteenth birthday. I know what it means.” I said shortly.
“Uh, yes exactly so. Now, I want to do that so badly, but I won’t without your consent.” She continued.
“Ms. Bridge, I’ve already told you my opinion on the matter.” I stood up and went to the ice cold mantle. “I gotta go; I’ve got chores to do if you don’t mind.” I walked off into the kitchen to do the morning dishes.

“Ms. Bridge, may I speak with you?” I heard Michael ask. I guess Ms. Bridge nodded because then he continued, “You intend to report my father, right?”
“Yes I do, and nothing you say will stop me.” She answered firmly.
“Don’t worry; I have no intentions of trying to stop you. I already told Marcus that I myself would report our father if it wouldn’t cause him to hate me so much, Marcus I mean.” Michael amended.
“Why would it cause him to hate you?” Ms. Bridge tried to understand. I rolled my eyes.
“It’s complicated. When I used to live here our father would beat Marcus until he could no longer stand. Marcus never once blamed me for any of it, at least not out loud anyways. Our father wasn’t so bad when I was home, he likes me you see, cause I don’t remind him of our mother. When I moved away Marcus voiced his blatant opinions of my and our fathers’ relationship, saying that I intended for our father to kill him.
“During his voicing of opinions he told me that I didn’t care what happened to him. I protested of course, saying that I intended to report our father for his abuse. Marcus lost it, he yelled at me saying if I ever did that he’d never forgive me and he’d hate me for all of eternity. I know it’s been two years since all that, but I still feel like he would hate me.” Michael explained.
“Well don’t you worry Michael; I’ve got it taken care of. I’ve already reported it. It’ll be taken care of before the summer break is over.” Ms. Bridge said. Then I could hear the clink of her glass being put on the table.
“Thank you.” Michael whispered so low I could hardly make it out. The rest of their conversation was short and quick and full of simple pleasantries.
“Well then boys, I’ve got to go. It was a pleasure meeting you today Michael, good to see you’re okay Marcus. I’ll be seeing both of you very soon I hope.” Ms. Bridge set her glass in the sink. Michael shook her hand, I nodded my head, and she left.
“Don’t even.” I said as I washed her and Michael’s glass.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” Michael lied. I shook my head and he laughed as he, get this, actually ruffled my hair, like adults do to the pathetic kid in movies and books. I whacked his hand away and he dodged, jumping back and playfully punching my arms. I held my hands up in boxing position and we messed around for a bit, then he ran his hand over my head and I ducked and he laughed. Then he put on his big brother face and asked if I had any summer homework, I nodded and he told me to get in my room and do it.
As I read The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, Michael sat on the floor looking over some business homework he had. And that’s how dad found us when he got home from work, both of us working on summer homework.