After a long day, Dwight got off the bus, heading straight home and listening to old rock music with his earbuds. Passing by the neighborhood, he noticed a little black cat rummaging through trash cans. Before he could react, the cat hissed, running away.
A couple blocks later, Dwight arrived home, grabbed a drink out of the fridge, and headed straight to his room. To pass the time he continuously tosses a ball at the wall, lying in bed contemplating the whole day, including what happened with Violet.
"Such an idiot! She was asking for some help, and I froze. Now between us is awkward. How am I that much of a coward talking to girls? I am literally friends with one!"
Dwight says to himself, realizing how loud he's been. Suddenly there was a knock on his door. Getting up off the bed, he opened it to see his little brother, Ethan.
"Hey Dwight, I wanted to check in to see how you are doing. I've heard that ball hit the wall more times than I can count. Are you okay?" Ethan asks, wearing a superhero t-shirt and basketball shorts.
That made it harder for Dwight; usually speaking with people about the day was easier for him with people his age, but Ethan being so young made things difficult. He often worded things differently or did not say the full truth, never wanting to put his little brother under pressure. Even though there is a lot Ethan should know, Dwight didn't have the heart to tell him yet.
"Today's like any other day. No need for worrying, little brother." Dwight says, Keep it casual.
Ethan had a questionable expression, having trouble believing his older brother.
"This isn't how we handle things." Ethan says catching onto Dwight's stubbornness is what's limiting him from opening up. "We agreed after Mom and Dad passed that if something is bothering us and needs someone to talk to, we're right here."
Barely any words were exchanged; Ethan had to accept defeat. He walks towards his own room, places a hand on the doorknob, and looks at Dwight.
"Listen, Dwight, I am not going to force you into talking with me about your problems, but don't push me away. We are brothers who only have each other pretty much." Ethan says, shutting his door behind him.
Dwight shut his door behind him without a word. Lying in bed, there now was more on his mind; it felt suffocating. Needing some type of relief, Dwight reached over and grabbed something off his bedside table. He pulled out a small box cutter, contemplating what should be done next.
Then a sudden ring on his phone caught him off guard. Consistent buzzes popping up over and over show an incoming call from Fred. Dwight usually never got calls from his friends, especially out of the random. Not thinking much into it, he reached over ready to press accept when the front door of the house opened and slammed shut, startling Dwight and Ethan.
"ETHAN, GET OUT HERE! DO NOT MAKE ME ASK AGAIN." A voice yells out.
Dwight sighs and creaks open his door, turning the knob just enough to peek through, seeing that Ethan looked worried. They noticed one another and gave awkward waves, getting hit by a strong scent of alcohol.
Their late fathers' step-brother, 'Aiden,' is seen hovering near the kitchen, barely standing up straight. He wore torn-up clothes, holding a half-empty beer in his hand.
"DO NOT MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN, ETHAN! GET OUT HERE AND TELL ME WHY, AFTER A LONG DAY, I COME HOME TO A HOUSE THAT IS BARELY CLEAN!" Aiden yelled, taking another big gulp from his bottle.
Typical behavior that Dwight became used to. The only things that kept him in check were watching sports on the television, eating pizza, and drinking alcohol. It usually worked, but only a handful of times. Ethan walks a couple of steps into the living room, already being berated for dirty dishes.
"KEEP THIS AS A REMINDER, ETHAN. I GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO STAY HOME TODAY. WHILE YOU ARE HERE SITTING ON YOUR ASS, THERE ARE STILL CHORES THAT NEED FINISHING. START PULLING YOUR WEIGHT AROUND THIS DANG HOUSE!" Aiden yelled, getting more furious by each passing second. Ethan, noticeably overwhelmed, starts having trouble explaining himself.
"I—I am really sorry. I did not get to the dishes. There was a lot of cleaning to be done in the closets and bathrooms. I—I guess it slipped my mind. How about I do it now and take them off your hands?" Ethan said, shaking, wanting no issues.
Aiden, becoming angrier, slams his bottle into the sink, smashing it on impact. Dwight jumps back, startled, as Ethan's eyes begin to water. Panic is shown on his face as he braces himself for the worst. Tension starts to grow thick every passing moment, feeling more tense than the last. Out of nowhere, Aiden roughly grabs Ethan's arm and pulls him a few inches closer.
"I WANT YOU TO HEAR ME VERY CAREFULLY, ETHAN. NO ONE IN THE FAMILY TRIED HARD ENOUGH IN TAKING YOU AND YOUR BROTHER IS IN. THEY RATHER HAVE SPENT THEIR HARD-EARNED CASH ON BETTER USES."
Dwight, who has been overhearing this, finally had enough. Ethan's uncontrollable sobbing makes Aiden's patience slip even further.
"STOP YOUR CRYING! I'M NOW AT MY LIMIT WITH THE TEARS. START ACTING LIKE A MAN, STOP MAKING EXCUSES FOR YOURSELF, AND START OWNING UP TO YOUR SHIT!"
Before anything could happen, Dwight got in the middle and aggressively shoved Aiden away from Ethan.
"YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT OWNING UP TO SHIT, AIDEN? THAT IS FUNNY COMING FROM YOU. SOMEONE WHO DROWNS HIS SORROWS IN A FUCKING GLASS. NOW TELL ME, WHAT MAKES YOU ANY BETTER!?" Dwight yells, keeping Ethan behind at all costs.
Ethan acknowledges how bloodshot Aiden's eyes were and tries to stop the situation from escalating. Dwight did his best to avoid any harm occurring, leading him to turn away and focus his full attention on Ethan.
Before realizing, Aiden saw an opening, and right when Dwight could even react, he felt a hard smack across the mouth knocking him down to the ground. The room went completely silent. No words were exchanged. Dwight held his face, hearing a ringing sound in his ear. He slowly looks up at Aiden, his guardian; a person he's meant to trust and rely on is now towering over him.
"DO NOT DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT AGAIN IN MY HOUSE!" Aiden yells, clenching his fists in anger.
"This is not your home. It never will be! You may be Dad's stepbrother, but this will never be your home. It belonged to our par—" Dwight is cut off mid-sentence as Aiden raises his hand once more.
Dwight trembles, expecting another swing across his face. Aiden stares at him, breathing heavily, and places his hand down.
"JUST—KEEP THAT MOUTH SHUT! ANYMORE BACK TALK WILL BE YOUR ONE-WAY TICKET OUT THE DOOR. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?" Aiden turned to face Ethan, who was standing in the corner, shaking. "THAT GOES FOR YOU TOO!"
Ethan nodded. Dwight in the moment realizes how much his actions affected his little brother. Having no other choice, Dwight held back everything he still wanted to say and decided to swallow his pride and say what needed to be said.
"Yes, yes, Sir, I understand..." Dwight says.
Due to Dwight backing down, Aiden stares in shock; his demeanor is noticeably less aggressive.
Ethan runs over to Dwight and comforts him. Aiden tried showing no remorse, grabbing another beer from the fridge. Dwight and Ethan watch as he goes back into the living room; Aiden raises his voice once more, attempting to intimidate them.
"FINALLY, YOU DO SOMETHING SMART. DO NOT EVER TEST ME AGAIN—I WILL PASS EVERY TIME. YOU BETTER REMEMBER WHAT I SAY GOING FORWARD! AND THAT GOES FOR BOTH OF YOU!" Aiden yells, looking at himself in a mirror, noticing his eye bags and dirty clothes while glaring at Dwight and Ethan.
Shrugging off any feelings, Aiden threw away his half-empty bottle into the garbage. He demanded both boys head into their rooms while he sat on the couch watching TV. Dwight sat by his desk with a journal, grabbing a pencil, taking time, and writing about how he is feeling after the incident.
"Once again, tonight happened like usual. I held out hoping things would have gotten better. It just seems like my luck ran out a long time ago. It proved to me over and over that nothing truly changes. I have to remind myself sometimes that Aiden was never our first pick. Surprisingly, he chose to be our guardian. The reason? We still do not know. Cousin Shawn has not messaged me either. It's been a couple of months since we heard from him. He promised when he reached twenty-one that there might be a chance for him to take me and Ethan in. Grandpa has been fine as well. Not many problems with his health. I hold no resentment towards him, but I do still wish he took up my offer on staying with him. It's stupid, but sometimes I wonder what he would do when dealing with Aiden's drunken state. Maybe beat him with his cane. Mom always told me stories about his old days, a literal tough cookie to crack. Other family members rarely message after what happened. Even her. Ethan asked me two days ago about if she tried to contact us. I did not want to tell him the truth, so I lied. It's kind of hard writing this. But it would hurt worse having Ethan realize how much of a worthless piece of trash loving, caring sister Leyley really is. Besides that, Ethan does not know this, but I believe a shelter would have not been a bad choice. Back to what happened, he swung at me when I was not looking. Literal coward. Although one thing he said was correct: no one volunteered to take us in."
Dwight places his pencil down and looks out his window, staring at the bright moon surrounded by sparkles. It was like a view that you wish could last forever.
After a while he started having trouble staying awake; his eyes felt heavy, and before knowing it he began to fall asleep. Soon any background noises had faded into the abyss, drifting him off within his thoughts.
Meanwhile, Aiden had begun his usual routine of cracking open a beer and flicking to the sports channel. Ignoring the noise, Ethan quietly crept into Dwight's room, making sure he was doing okay after the argument.
The dim glow from the living room spilled through a small gap in the door, just enough for Ethan to see Dwight fast asleep, one arm dangling off the side of the bed, slow and steady breaths rising from his chest.
He turned to leave, but before grabbing the knob, something caught his eye. There was a small box cutter lying on the edge of the bed.
Confused, Ethan stepped closer. As he picked it up, examining how scratched up the texture appeared, Ethan figured it must have been Aiden's work tool. But what seems strange is why Dwight had it in his possession.
While backing away, his attention shifted to the desk nearby. That is where Ethan saw Dwight's journal sitting open. He didn't mean to snoop and did not want to betray his brother's trust, but the first few lines on the page were in plain sight.
Before he could take in more personal information, Ethan closed the journal, attempting to suppress them. Dwight, who is still asleep, adjusts his sleep position and shifts to the other side of the bed with a low murmur.
Startled, Ethan gently stepped back, pulling the door part way and closing it behind him. Just before leaving completely, he looked back once more at his sleeping brother and whispered softly,
"Good night, Dwight."
( A few hours later )
Awakened by sudden dings on his cellphone, Dwight noticed a message pop up from Oliver in big bold letters.
"Hey, pal. Are you still coming? Tonight we are heading into the woods. Bring a flashlight and get there as soon as you can— stat!"
Dwight, without question, makes a move; taking a peek outside of his room, he notices Aiden passed out on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes and beer cans.
Dwight sneaks towards the kitchen cabinet in pure darkness, collecting multiple snacks, portable chargers, and flashlights. Right when he made his way to the front door, he accidentally bumped into a shelf, dropping a picture frame.
Aiden, drunk and barely conscious, ignores and continues snoring his life away. Dwight lets out a sigh as he creeps towards the front door; another door creaks open from behind, causing him to freeze in place. He turned around, and Ethan stared directly at him, arms crossed.
Knowing things are no longer simple and planned out, he decided to change his original plan into a duo mission.
Once outside, Ethan glances towards their house and puts up a middle finger. Dwight usually would have stopped him from doing such an act, but instead of interfering, he decided to let this one slide.
As they walked a few steps in silence, something stirred in Dwight's mind. A voice that was faint and distant, like it was calling him from underwater. Even though he could hardly understand, it sounded familiar and painful. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as if that could make him forget, possibly force it away.
"Hey, Dwight?" Ethan's voice cut through, sounding calm but uncertain. "Do you ever think we're going to be okay?"
As Dwight let the question officially set in, he hesitated. The truth sat heavy on his chest. He didn't believe normally in a positive mindset, which would have made the question simple. But as he looked at Ethan, staring at the young boy who made every day of his life worth living. He looked down and smiled.
"Yeah," he said, reassuring Ethan. "I-I think we will."
In the distance, police sirens echoed throughout the entire neighborhood. A common pattern that has been going on ever since news broke out of bodies being found stabbed to death.
Dwight placed a firm hand onto Ethan's shoulder, his touch warm and steady. His reassuring smile conveyed encouragement that subtly urged Ethan to continue moving forward.