Ch.2: Where'd You Go

Recap: (Ch. 1: I Promise)

We were about 20 minutes away from being home and we, well I, was jamming to "Party" and the whole time Joshua was laughing at me singing off key. "If Beyonce heard you singing her song like that she would sue you."
     "Shut up punk! I can sing," I said while laughing.
     "Yea, If you say so..."
     I was about to make a left turn and out of no where...
"BOOM!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     "Fuck you bitch!"
     "No fuck you! All you care about is your fucking drugs Josh! You don't even care about your own children!"
     "That's not my fucking daughter! Shit with a whore as a wife that may not be my son!"

     That was the first time I heard my mom and Josh really argue. I was locked in my room, only 12-years-old holding on tight to my 3-year-old brother as I sat Indian style, rocking, with him on my lap. I didn't understand why my mother was accusing the man I saw as my only father figure of doing drugs; and, I definitely didn't know what type of drugs they were. 
     But soon enough, after hundreds of fights which were once before about my mom wanting Josh to stop using then later turning into who snorted the most coke up their nose and who's next check would pay for more, I grew to hate the man my baby brother called "daddy" and my mom married and got strung out on cocaine with. 
     Hell, after so many years and all the times I had heard him not claim me and make me feel like I didn't belong in their "happy little family," the more I grew to loath even the sound of his damn voice. And the more I listened to him beat on my mother because they had run out if drugs the more I really knew that I actually didn't belong in their family.
     I knew my brother and I just didn't deserve this much dysfunction. Every since then, I vowed to ALWAYS protect my brother and somehow I would figure out how to get us out of their family. Even if it's just me and him, that's all I need for it to be a real happy family. Me and my brother..."MY BROTHER!!!"
     "Mam, are you ok? Mam, can you hear me? What's your name?"
     "My brother! Where's my brother?!?!" I could feel my head pounding and I just couldn't seem to control the warmness running down my face. I didn't know if all of it was just my tears or if the pounding side of my head was pouring blood down my face, but I didn't care. For now, forget about the pounding, forget the stinging feeling all over my face and hands. I just needed to find my baby brother.
     "Mam, we need you to calm down and stay still..."
     "But where is my brother!?"
     "Ma...m"
     "No! Stop calling me mam! I'm 16, my name is Brooke Michelle and I want to know where my little brother is now! His name is Joshua Grey!"
     "He is on his way to the hospital, just calm down. We will take you as soon as a paramedic gets you patched up."
     "Oh no! What have I done??? God please. God please. God please let him be ok. Please. Please. Please."
     As the paramedic checked me for any other possible wounds I just sat there slightly rocking the way I did with Joshua back in my room with warm salty tears that burned the small scratches and scrapes on my face tumbling slowly down the blank slate once known as my face. All I could do was mumble what was to me the only version of a prayer that I could utter, "God please...God please." 
     "Brooke??? Do you want to go to the hospital?"
     "Yes! I have to see my brother!"
     "No, you. Do you want to see a doctor?"
     "I just want to check on my brother. Then I can check on me."
The officer and the paramedic agreed that I was in a good enough condition, physically to go see him. Even if they didn't agree, I think they knew that they wouldn't be able to stop me from seeing him.
     As we walked up to the clerk's desk at the hospital, I informed them of my name, my brother's name, and for what use, I don't know, I gave them my mom's name and number.
     The doctor came up to me and informed me that My little brother was in the ICU and that he was stable.
     "He has a few bumps and bruises here and there but for the most part he seems to be doing fine. He's heavily sedated due to the medicine that will help ease the pain because he has a broken rib. So, he probably won't be awake for a couple more hours or so."
     I looked into this man's eyes as if he was the savior of my soul. I just needed him to tell me good news and that it wasn't as bad as I expected because I just couldn't handle the thought of something being wrong with my brother, and I was the cause of it.
     The doctor led me over to the window that framed the the saddest view of my baby brother hooked up to tubes and cords.
     The tears began to fall as I slowly walked into the empty hospital room of a 7-year-old little boy with no mother or father standing by his bedside, hopelessly waiting for their child to regain conscientiousness. It was just me alone with my brother, listening to the subtle yet so reassuring "beep beep" of his heart on the monitor. So, I pulled up a chair and I let the tears flow from my eyes as I held his little, barely warm hand.
     All that I could think of was my mother getting high with Josh while we were sitting here alone and in pain. I wanted to call my grandma back in New York so bad, but something inside of me was happy still. Everyone would finally know the truth behind "our happy little family"  and my life with my brother could begin. I didn't know where we would go besides back to New York, but I didn't care. 
     Maybe then I could go somewhere without having to think that my brother might be getting beat, yelled at, or worse; he gets into the drugs that my mom leaves in the urn that used to be filled with Josh's grandfather's ashes until she decided to make that her hiding spot because Josh just always talks to to it, never even touching it. No one else is supposed to touch it either, but hey, someone's got to "clean it." But, she keeps the real ashes tucked away in an old Oxy-clean  bucket in the cleaning close; so, she can put them back when the urn is "low or empty."
     After sitting with my brother for three hours he finally opened his eyes only to tell me that he loved me for always being there and that he was still really sleepy; so, I told him he could go back to sleep and I would still be here. Finally, after two more hours passed with me in the same spot holding on to my brother's hand, in walks my mother.
     With her hair in a loose bun with sections of hair flowing around her face and neck, she repeatedly sniffed and rubbed her nose, "So is he okay Brooke?"
     Looking down, trying really hard not to feel hatred towards the woman that gave birth to me, I mumbled, "Yes, but he has a broken rib."
     "Oh that's good," she said with a slight smile and started a quick motion towards the door to leave.
     I quickly stood up to confront her for even having the thought, "All you ca say is 'that's good'? Your children, you hear that multiple!? Your CHILDREN were in a car crash and you don't care enough to ask about both of us, let alone tell us you love us and embrace us as a normal mother would? As the woman I knew as MY mother would?"
     "I am your mother! I just..."
     "You're high mom. How can you care when you're high?" With tears beginning to roll down my cheeks I said, " 'how can you you care when you're high Josh!?' Remember those arguments? Now you're on the other side and I'm you this time. Mom, why can't you stop? Why won't you care?"
    My heart was pounding and my brain was racing. I kept starring at her trying to see the picture perfect woman that I used to know as my mother, "my mommy," but I couldn't see her. My vision was getting blurry and more tears fell as I focused in on the "beep beep" of my brother's heart on the monitor as he slept through it all. My legs felt weak and so did everything else. 
     I did'nt know why I felt like this,

*beep...beep* 

and I surely dont know where I got the courage

*beep...beep*

 to express my love and hate for my mother to my mother.

*beep...beep*


But I could feel my blood boiling,


*beep...beep*
*beep...beep*



And then it all went black...
     "Brooke?!"

By: @illfollowubak

 

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