Status: Please don't tell me how predictable or corny it is, i already know.
Losing To Family
Weirdness of it All
I make a shortcut through one of the neighborhood parks. My hands start balling into fists and I swear I see red. All I’m thinking about is wanting to punch him in the face. I’m literally trying to restrain myself so I don’t go back there and let his face meet my fist. I start walking a little faster when I feel the tears starting to form. My jogging-walking type thing I’m doing turns into running. I make it to my door and rush into the house. I take my shoes off and run upstairs to my room. I start taking off my clothes and getting back into my pajamas when I hear someone banging on my door. I put my shirt back on and head for the door.
When I open the door, Mikey is standing there, trying to explain something to me. I try to slam the door in his face, but his hand and foot stop the door. “Wait, please let me explain. I’m not who you think I am.” I try to budge the door some more. I finally give up and just let him talk. “What do you want, Mikey?”
“Can I come in?” He asks, almost pleading with me.
“No.”
“Please. I just want to explain myself. I’m not who you think I am.”
I don’t know why I do, but I tell him to come in and sit down. He walks into the house and looks around the house. “Mmmmh….cozy,” he says. I point to the living room and he starts making his way there.
I sit down across from him and wait for him to tell me what he needs to tell me.
His face loses the grin and he becomes serious. He looks a little sad. He stares at me.
“Is this the part where you explain yourself, or are you going to stare at me all day? Because if you are, you can leave.” I start to get up and point to the door when he puts his hand in the air and motions for me to sit down. I cross my legs, with my hand crossed on my knee.
“I’m not Mikey.” He shakes his head and looks at me, I guess trying to see my reaction.
“Well….who are you then?” I get a little bit snippy because he’s a little bit creepy.
“Mikey is…was my brother.” He takes a deep breath and looks at the floor. “He died a couple years ago. “
I stare at him, trying to see if he’s trying to pull a prank one me. He just stares at the floor and rubs his hand through his hair. I ask him nicer this time: “what happened?”
“He killed himself. He was diagnosed with some type of thing that made him Bi-polar and crazy.” I stare at him, astonished. It starts to make sense of how he acted that day.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I pause before I ask him my question, wondering if I should hold back because it may be a hard for him….but I have to know. “What was he yelling at that girl I was with that day? Why did he push her?”
He stares at me; I guess not knowing what I’m talking about.
When I open the door, Mikey is standing there, trying to explain something to me. I try to slam the door in his face, but his hand and foot stop the door. “Wait, please let me explain. I’m not who you think I am.” I try to budge the door some more. I finally give up and just let him talk. “What do you want, Mikey?”
“Can I come in?” He asks, almost pleading with me.
“No.”
“Please. I just want to explain myself. I’m not who you think I am.”
I don’t know why I do, but I tell him to come in and sit down. He walks into the house and looks around the house. “Mmmmh….cozy,” he says. I point to the living room and he starts making his way there.
I sit down across from him and wait for him to tell me what he needs to tell me.
His face loses the grin and he becomes serious. He looks a little sad. He stares at me.
“Is this the part where you explain yourself, or are you going to stare at me all day? Because if you are, you can leave.” I start to get up and point to the door when he puts his hand in the air and motions for me to sit down. I cross my legs, with my hand crossed on my knee.
“I’m not Mikey.” He shakes his head and looks at me, I guess trying to see my reaction.
“Well….who are you then?” I get a little bit snippy because he’s a little bit creepy.
“Mikey is…was my brother.” He takes a deep breath and looks at the floor. “He died a couple years ago. “
I stare at him, trying to see if he’s trying to pull a prank one me. He just stares at the floor and rubs his hand through his hair. I ask him nicer this time: “what happened?”
“He killed himself. He was diagnosed with some type of thing that made him Bi-polar and crazy.” I stare at him, astonished. It starts to make sense of how he acted that day.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I pause before I ask him my question, wondering if I should hold back because it may be a hard for him….but I have to know. “What was he yelling at that girl I was with that day? Why did he push her?”
He stares at me; I guess not knowing what I’m talking about.