Dedication Takes a Lifetime but Dreams Only Last for a Night

Alex POV:

The rest of the day I couldn't stop thinking about Jack. The panicked look in his eyes, the way he ran, how terrified he looked. I couldn't stop running what had happened through my head again and again, trying to find a way to help him. After Tom I can't let anyone hurt himself next to me. He intrigued me.

In French I met this kid called Rian. He looked really nice. He had one of the brightest smiles I've ever seen and brownish hair. He seemed really nice. I was happy just to make a friend. He invited me to sit with him at lunch. I learned we liked the same music and he played drums. His smile never seemed to fade from his face. He was so caring and friendly. I immediately thought we could be great friends. To be honest, I was happy just to make friends. It was hard at my old school.

When I inquired about Jack though, asking how was he, Rian smile disappeared for the first time and he said "He's just a idiotic douche. Don't even bother. He cares more about popularity and his hair then basically anything else." I couldn't help but think the Jack I met today wasn't like that but after all, Rian probably knew better than I.

The rest of day was pretty much a blur. I met a few new people, managed with Rians help to navigate around the school, seeing as Jack didn't help me at all and thankfully finished the day. When it was over I started to walk to the bus station listening to music. It always helped me relax and lose myself.

I got home, to our small house with the hardly kept bushes and two small stories. The house looked empty which immediately made me relax. Maybe my dad wouldn't be home and I could just sneak in. I opened the door hesitantly. The hallway painted a light cream color, with the door by the side to the basement, the terrifying basement, the kitchen peeking at the end of the hallway, another door for the bathroom, and our small empty living room with our three couches, one for my dad, one for my mom, and one for Tom and the staircase that lead to my parents room. Not that I really knew how it looked. I haven't been allowed there since I was twelve.

The house was eerily quiet. Maybe he wasn't here. Then I heard footsteps coming from the kitchen.

Maybe he wasn't drunk, maybe he was in a unusually good mood, maybe he was just about to go look for a job after making me lunch.

But of course he wasn't. I heard his uneven footsteps echo through to house. He was as drunk as always. I prepared myself for the blows that would surely come. As usual my mom was working, which meant I wouldn't even get her flimsy protection. It would just be him and me. Some dad son bonding time, I joked to myself weakly, trying not to appear too scared. He terrified me.

He slowly stumbled into the room. He looked at me with his brown eyes, apparently similar to mine. His white balding hair was a mess, along with the stubble growing on his round face. Apparently he was handsome once with eyes that twinkled happily, a easy smile, and combed dark hair. He had gained a lot of weight since Toms death. I remember him when Tom and I were young, smiling and joking with us. Playing with us in the playground, making us sandwiches, just being a great father.

But that was not the man in front of me. The man in front of me was not a loving father, but my worst nightmare. The man in front of me hated me and he intended to show it again. The loving dad from my memories was dead, gone with his son, forgetting he had another one that was still alive. I readied myself for the blows.

But instead of hitting me as usual he ran to me and hugged me. I was so baffled by the odd turn of events. He smelled like stale alcohol. It was disgusting, but this was the first time he'd hugged me in the past few years. I hugged him back, still wondering what was behind this. My dad was drunk. It was obvious. I didn't know what he was going to do and I was scared.

"Tom! You're back! My beautiful son." My dad slurred. That's when I realized he thought I was Tom. It hurt as it always did when the name Tom was mentioned. Right now it even hurt more as for a few seconds I couldn't help but think that maybe my dad was actually hugging me.

I wasn't sure what to do. He was just grabbing me, sobbing on my shoulders about how much he missed "me", Tom. Should I shake him off? Or hug him back? What would end with less pain and violence from my dad? I wondered feeling lost.

But then the choice was made for me as my dad suddenly stopped hugging me and stared at my face.

"You're not Tom! You're his ugly stupid idiotic less talented fag of a brother!" He yelled angrily.

I just closed my eyes waiting for this to be over.

"You tried to fool me, you stupid piece of shit! Killing your brother wasn't enough, now you're pretending to be him! I'll teach you a lesson."

He started to punch me, my face my upper body. I just wanted it all to end, for him to just stop. As he hit me again I let out a gasp of pain, hugging my upper body, trying to defend myself. He just smiled and said "You deserve this pain." as he hit me again. I fell to my knees, curled up into myself just wishing for it to end. It hadn't been this bad for a few weeks.

"Dad please stop!" I said, knowing it wouldn't help but having to try.

"You killed my son! You knew! You could have stopped him!" He yelled, slurring his words as he kicked me again, spreading a dull pain through my body.

There wasn't even a point to argue. I'd tried so many times. In my dads drunken head I killed Tom. Ever time he reminded me of it hurt just as much as the physical pain. As if the guilt wasn't enough, there reminding me every day that I could have helped Tom, my dad was as kind as to remind me of it every day, again and again.

Finally, feeling weak, with my body throbbing full of pain, I felt my dad drag me down to the basement which was my room for the past few years. Just getting dragged down the stairs hurt and made me gasp from the awful pain that spread through me body.

He threw me on the floor. I didn't even resist him, knowing it would only be far worse. It was better just to let him do whatever he wanted so he wouldn't hurt me more.

He then locked the door and yelled "Don't bother coming up for dinner." I heard him vaguely fainted outside the basement door. My mom when she came home late from work would put him to bed. She didn't even seem to really care about the chaos that was her house as long as her work as good.

I slowly dragged myself up to my mattress my whole body throbbing with pain. This would happen every few days. Sometimes it was worse. Sometimes though, my dad would pass out before I got home or he'd be as generous as to just yell at me instead of hurting me. When my mom was home she'd weakly stop him when he hurt me. She'd just stand next to him and say "Peter maybe you should stop." in a gentle voice, as if to a child as I bled on the floor. Most of the time she worked to insane hours, immersing herself in work to pretend nothing was happening.

I took of my shirt and stared at my body. I was small,thin and frail. It scared me. You could see my ribs easily. My entire upper body was filled with old and new bruises. It was all my dads doing. I wanted to yell, to scream at him, to run away from him.

But I knew it would never happen. They were my only relationship. More than anything I just wanted to return to how we were before Tom died, when we were a real family. I missed him more than anything.

As I started to ice the new bruises, hoping that maybe if I ice them quick enough, tomorrow they won't be seen. One of the main reasons I got bullied was because of all the bruises I'd come to school with. I was happy I managed to get my mom to let me move schools, hoping that maybe now I wouldn't get bullied. But with the fact my dad had already bruised my face I doubted t would happen.

I let my mind drift to Jack. The way he looked at me when I asked him about cutting. I couldn't let him end his life. He seems to have everything. He's popular, has friends and his parents never beat him probably. He had to be hiding something. Why would he cut? The question drove me insane and I told myself I would try to figure it out.