He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother.

I danced down the stairs, jamming to my ipod playing over the restaurant's speakers. Perks of owning your own pizzeria. Or being the owner’s son, I guess.

When I got to the first floor, I found the place to be empty, save for a few giggling girls in a booth in the corner. Unsurprising, considering it was almost closing time on a weeknight.

I spotted Isaac passed out with his face in his arms on one of the tables. So much for keeping on a eye on the place, bro.

I walked over to him and sighed. He needed to get upstairs to his bed, but I really didn’t have the heart to wake him. He hadn’t been sleeping at all lately, thanks to his most recent fight with Nessa, his girlfriend. This fight was pissing me off at this point, both of them were just too stubborn to apologize. Alex and I were starting to rethink our whole “stay out of their relationship” policy and were considering locking them in a closet until they made up.

I pushed his bangs off his forehead and grinned when I heard him snoring softly. When did he get so big? It seemed like just yesterday he was a scrawny eight year old sitting on my shoulders after my graduation. Now he was almost sixteen, all lean muscle and long hair. He looked nothing like me at his age, I was all long limbs and knobby knees; but he had the slightly crooked Barakat nose, just like May, Joe, and me. Quit growing up, would ya?

“C’mon, frérot, I’ll carry you.” I said, pulling my not-so-little-anymore brother out of his chair. I tossed him over my shoulder gracelessly, but he continued to snore. “When was the last time you slept?” I wondered allowed.

“Hey, do you need some help?” One of the girls at the booth asked, looking at my thin frame with uncertainty.

“Nah, it’s cool. I got him,” I said.

I’m strong.
Strong enough to carry him.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.