TW: CHILD ABUSE
My brother is the oldest of us siblings, next being me then my sister. He had the black sheep label for as long as I can remember, mainly because he was constantly getting in trouble, running his mouth, and causing mischief. When he got older, things worsened. He began to hang out with the wrong crowd and was expelled for being caught selling cannabis to some classmates.
I remember being in my room with my sister beside me, trying to drown out the yelling from across the hall. No matter how loud I dared to turn up our cartoons, the angry shouts of my father and mother berating my brother were hard to ignore. They punished him severely - grounding him, taking away his computer and comic books. They said if he didn’t learn discipline, he would be on his own once he turned 18. My brother took this and decided to call their bluff, running away a week later. He was found at a friend’s house, but he made it clear that he wanted to emancipate himself from the family, or he’d only get much, much worse.
At that time, many of my friends and peers who heard about my brother assumed he was an awful person. A degenerate punk who thrived on mayhem. And while I can’t argue that he wasn’t a “punk” in his own way, he was never unkind.
Despite all his rebellious tendencies, he loved my sister and I more than I’d expect an older brother would. He helped me with my homework whenever I asked (he was actually incredibly smart, just lacked a care to apply himself). He’d play dolls with my sister and never seemed to find it “lame.” He’d pick us up from school in the family van and sometimes on Fridays take us to get ice cream. For some reason he couldn’t stand our parents but had no issues with his little sisters. So when he returned home from being found at his friends, I thought maybe I’d have a chance getting through to him.
I entered his room and he let me in. I found him lying on his bed, rolling a baseball around in his palm while staring at the ceiling. With his grounding, his room had been stripped of everything but his bed, desk, and clothes. They even took his posters off the walls, which I found to be ridiculous.
I was nervous to get any closer than the foot of his bed, and he caught me staring and sat up. “Are you mad at me?” He started, cutting to the chase.
Suddenly tears welled in my eyes, leaving me embarrassed. “Why do you hate Mom and Dad so much?” I asked. “Why do you want to leave us?”
He looked at me with sad eyes and sighed.
“I’m sorry, Beth.” He replied. “I wish I could tell you everything, or take you and Jules with me. But it wouldn’t be fair.”
“Bullshit.” I swore, surprising us both. I definitely wasn’t old enough to curse, but the words felt right. “Just stop this! Act like a good kid so things can go back to normal!”
His face was so solemn and defeated, I hated it. I wanted him to change his ways or at least give me an answer as to why. Before things became too broken to be fixed.
Then, he slid off the bed and placed a hand on my shoulder with a firm grip. He looked behind me, then knelt down.
“Bethany,” He began, voice dead quiet and serious. “I will come back for you. I promise. One day I will explain everything to you. And if you hate me-“ He began to choke up mid sentence, which shocked me. “-I don’t blame you. I never meant to make you unhappy with how I am. Just… wait for me. Okay?”
Next thing I knew, strange men entered the room, with my mom and dad watching from the hall. I’d been so engrossed with my conversation I hadn’t heard their footsteps approach, nor the door be slammed open and my sister wail into my mother’s skirt. They grabbed my brother aggressively and pulled him off of me, holding his arms behind his back.
“What’s going on?!” I screamed, turning to my parents. “What are you doing??” They carried him out of the room, down the hall, and to the front door. Outside was a car waiting by our driveway. They threw him in, and my brother gave me and Julia one last look before they threw him inside.
My father had to restrain me from running after the car down the street. I kicked and screamed and said a flurry of expletives in frustration.
The next day, my parents woke us up for school as if nothing ever happened. My mom was all smiles and tried to tickle me as she explained I’d need to get ready for the bus.
“I’m not going.” I grumbled, shrinking away from her. I could feel her grow silent as I hoped she’d understand my feelings and leave me alone. “Bethany,” She said slowly, letting my name hang in the air.
“What?” I replied, but in an instant she had grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me upwards with inhuman strength.
Immediately I cried in pain and tried to free myself, but she brought her face to mine and I was frozen in fear. Her face was pulled into this maniac, sinister snarl, so unlike the mother I knew.
She looked menacing and feral and otherworldly. I could swear her pupils were dilated far beyond normal, that her teeth were twinged with black saliva, that an eldritch growl could he faintly heard unfurling from the recesses of her throat. All I could do was whimper as she began to speak, which came out as more of a hiss.
“I am sick and tired of being disrespected in this house.” She snarled. “And so help me, Bethany, if you do not get dressed and go to school and behave I will beat you till your skin turns raw and bleeds. Do you understand me?”
My lips trembled as I tried to mutter out a “yes.”
Then she released my hair and a switch flipped. The tension dropped and her face was as placid and gentle as it was before, as if I imagined the whole thing (I would’ve thought I did, looking back, if not for the undeniable ache of my scalp.) “I made pancakes,” She chirped, then left me to sit in a stunned, horrified silence.
The next few weeks were similar to that morning. My parents acted like nothing ever happened, and all was right as rain. My sister once made the mistake of asking Dad when our brother would be coming back from his, as I was told, “behavior camp.”
My Dad smacked my sister so hard, the sound is permanently etched in my mind. Her face began to welt and turn red as I rushed to her aid, holding her sobbing form in my arms.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I snapped, unable to restrain myself. He didn’t blink an eye at my swearing, just stared daggers at us with hand still outstretched.
“Would you girls like to go swimming tonight?” He asked, with a voice that wasn’t explicitly threatening but tinged with a hidden malice. I looked at him like he lost it. It was winter in Ohio, a good 23 degrees Fahrenheit at best. Our pool would be an ice box. “You can take a dip for an hour or two.” He continued. “Three if you don’t watch your mouth.”
It clicked then what he was implying. He was asking if we were going to behave, or if he would have us trapped in our pool for hours in the cold as punishment. The very idea of such a thing sickened me to my core, and it shattered my heart to hear my father say those words with such uncaring venom.
I decided not to test his patience and swallowed. “Sorry, Dad.” I replied. “We’ll do better.”
He gave us a once over then stood.
“They’re all yours, Sarah.” He said to my mother before making his way to the basement. Ever since my brother went off to “camp”, he’d been spending most of his days down there. I hadn’t even seen him go to work, and I’d been strictly instructed not to disturb him. No worries there, though. My parents had suddenly become these hostile, violent entities that shed the layers of kindness and warmth I once knew them to have. Never in my life had our parents hit us, even when Riley, my brother, was in trouble.
No. No, that wasn’t true. I never saw them hit him, but Riley used to have such awful scars and refused to explain where he got them from. I heard once Mom bring up how he acquired them from “rough-housing”, and then dismissed the topic like it was trivial. At the time, I had no reason to believe otherwise. But now, things changed. My parents had become cruel imitators of their formal selves, and I had to sincerely ask myself if it was some drastic change as a result of Riley leaving, or if they had always been this way and I’d been too clueless to pick up on it.
Whatever the case may be, I decided in that moment two things.
One, I was going to protect Julia with my life, no matter what consequences I may face. I was thirteen then, and now I’d become the eldest, so I felt the need to step up to the plate. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was why Riley had always been a rebel, to make my sister and I saints in comparison.
If my sister ever complained about not wanting to eat dinner or if I ever did poorly on a test, Riley could be there to make sure they’d have their hands full with him to do anything severe. Or maybe Riley knew our parents true nature all along and wanted to make their lives hell. Whatever the case may be, I knew deep down he had his reasons, and I was going to honor that by protecting Julia.
The second thing I decided was to find out more about what really happened to Riley. Did he really go to behavior camp? Why are we not allowed to ask any questions? Why are we being expected not to mourn his absence in our house? Since he’s been gone, I swear I’ve never seen my parents happier. Did something sinister happen to him? Is he in trouble?
I let Julia sleep with me that night. I had grabbed an ice pack and wrapped it in a hand towel for her face, but now she had finally fallen asleep. With her head atop my chest, I let her breaths soothe me as I thought about my next steps. But I didn’t have to think too hard, as the next morning I awoke to the door practically being kicked off its hinges. I startled awake and instinctively held Jules to my chest as my father stood, a grin beaming on his face. “Get up, girls.” He said enthusiastically. “Your brother is here!”
Alarms sounded in my head, alerting me to something not being right. But I didn’t care in that moment, cause I missed Riley and couldn’t stand another second without him. My sister and I leapt from our beds and ran towards the kitchen, where our Mom sat at the table with a cup of coffee in her hands. “There you are.” She smiled, looking elated. “Riley and I wanted to let you sleep, but we were too excited to wait any longer.”
He looked to my mother and turned around, grinning just as enthusiastically as her.
“I missed you guys so much.” He said. “I’m so happy to be back home.”
“Go on, girls.” Dad spoke from behind. “Don’t be shy. Give your brother a hug.”
But I didn’t move.
I couldn’t move.
That was NOT Riley.