No Bravery
One
Shouts from the living room jerked Charlie from his slumber. He opened his eyes groggly and looked at his alarm clock that sat atop the night stand: Two-twenty-eight in the morning. A small groan escaped his lips as Charlie rolled onto his stomach, pulling his pillow over his head in the hopes of blocking out the yelling, to no avil. The shouts were now mixed with a few swears. About once every week Charlie's older brother, Dale, would amble through the front door drunk or high or on some other type of drug. Resulting Charlie to be jerked unexpectingly awake by Dale aruging loudly with Mom. Often Dale would bring a girl home and they'd quitely -- or so they thought -- sneak into Dale's room and spend hours having sex.
Mom loathed that Dale would come home late like this. Hated the way Dale yelled and punched holes into the walls that never got repaired and slammed doors. Hated the way Dale called her an awful mother... and Charlie hated it, too. He absoultely hated the way Dale treated Mom. He didn't give her the respect she deserved. Mom was doing the best she could. It wasn't her fault Dad walked out on them two years ago and married someone who was younger and more beatiful than Mom. Dale wasn't the only one suffering like he thought; everyone in the house was, but no one more than Mom. Dad had been Mom's high school sweetheart. Her first love. She was hurting that he chose to leave and find someone else. Of course Dale was too blindsided to see this the way Charlie could.
More on one occasion Mom had Dale arrested. It seemed no matter how times he was sent to prison once he was released he went right back to partying on school nights, bringing home girls, and doing drugs. Then come home have a late night yelling match with Mom to which Dale would holler something about Dad and insult Mom. Punch the nearest wall or throw the closest thing near him. He'd leave, slamming the door as hard as he could on his way out. The second Dale would leave Charlie would hear Mom crying. Sometimes when he braved it he'd slip out of bed and make his way to the living room to console Mom. After a few minutes, when Mom regained her composure, she would gently push Charlie back off to bed so she could phone the police, she'd never let Charlie witness Dale getting arrested.
Sercertly Charlie feared Dale would snap one day and kill someone. Presumably either Mom or Charlie or both.... The sound of the front door slamming abruptly brought Charlie from his thoughts. He removed the pillow from his head staring at the dark wall. A minute had barely ambled by and Mom was already on the phone with the police. Once again Dale would be crated off to prison.
'Hopefully this time he'd stay behind bars longer,' Charlie thought as he closed his eyes.
Mom loathed that Dale would come home late like this. Hated the way Dale yelled and punched holes into the walls that never got repaired and slammed doors. Hated the way Dale called her an awful mother... and Charlie hated it, too. He absoultely hated the way Dale treated Mom. He didn't give her the respect she deserved. Mom was doing the best she could. It wasn't her fault Dad walked out on them two years ago and married someone who was younger and more beatiful than Mom. Dale wasn't the only one suffering like he thought; everyone in the house was, but no one more than Mom. Dad had been Mom's high school sweetheart. Her first love. She was hurting that he chose to leave and find someone else. Of course Dale was too blindsided to see this the way Charlie could.
More on one occasion Mom had Dale arrested. It seemed no matter how times he was sent to prison once he was released he went right back to partying on school nights, bringing home girls, and doing drugs. Then come home have a late night yelling match with Mom to which Dale would holler something about Dad and insult Mom. Punch the nearest wall or throw the closest thing near him. He'd leave, slamming the door as hard as he could on his way out. The second Dale would leave Charlie would hear Mom crying. Sometimes when he braved it he'd slip out of bed and make his way to the living room to console Mom. After a few minutes, when Mom regained her composure, she would gently push Charlie back off to bed so she could phone the police, she'd never let Charlie witness Dale getting arrested.
Sercertly Charlie feared Dale would snap one day and kill someone. Presumably either Mom or Charlie or both.... The sound of the front door slamming abruptly brought Charlie from his thoughts. He removed the pillow from his head staring at the dark wall. A minute had barely ambled by and Mom was already on the phone with the police. Once again Dale would be crated off to prison.
'Hopefully this time he'd stay behind bars longer,' Charlie thought as he closed his eyes.
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