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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hold on, I have somewhat of a plottwist in mind for this one, so hold on tight ^^
12th of November 2005

Harold Littrell III was my big brother. He always did stuff big brothers were supposed to do. He was the one that kicked our soccer ball on the roof of the shed and told Dad it was my fault. He was the one that went out late with his friends and made me cover for him. He was the one that shoved me into the pool in the middle of winter and gave me pneumonia. He was the one that stole my StarWars action figures and dumped them in the ditch behind our house, just because he was jealous. He was the one that used to laugh at me, together with my cousin Kevin, at my pathetic attempts of being one of the big, cool boys, like they were.

He was also the one who delivered Ricky Montero a broken nose, because he called me short. He was the one that helped me with basketball practice the entire summer, so that I would make the High School’s team, even if I never did- which wasn’t his fault, because I actually was short.

He was one of the first people I told about Kevin’s phone-call to join a singing group I knew nothing about, and told me to ‘just go for it.’

Harry was the most stereotypical big brother you could think of. He was either terrorizing you to no end, or he was there to take care of you. He was the only person I could have run to in a time like this. I hadn’t said a word ever since I’d woke him up by banging frantically on his front door, but he didn’t ask anything. I knew he was dying to find out what was wrong, but would keep his curiosity at bay, as long as I didn’t feel like talking.

That was how it should be, like it had always been. It was around midnight when he re-emerged from the kitchen with two large, damping cups of coffee. By then he’d figured we were both not going to get a minute of sleep that night as long as things weren’t sorted out. I kept my stoic gaze on the coffee table, not wanting to break the thick layer of silence that had settled between us. I felt his curious, worried stare bore into the side of my head as he chose a spot on the seat next to me. It was a tactic he’d used several times before. He’d just keep staring until I’d break and tell him everything.

I remember the moment I had to actually tell him I hadn’t made the basketball team, after we’d trained the whole summer. He’d used the same tactic then too. I didn’t expect for it to work this time. This was too big of a thing. I took a deep breath.

“He’s gonna kill them,” I mumbled, and then frowned. I couldn’t believe I actually said that.

“Excuse me?” Harold asked, confused.

“He’s gonna kill my son,” I shrieked, definitely panicking again.

“What are you talking about?” Harry questioned helplessly.

“He’s after me, he’s gonna kill them. Oh God, Harold, I can’t let that happen!”

My brother got up quickly and knelt before me, “Brian? Brian, look at me,” he instructed and I had no choice but to comply. “Listen, nobody’s going to kill anybody, alright? Don’t say things like that.”

“Y-You don’t understand!” I managed to squeak through my tears, “He’s dangerous, like… like a weird psychopath.”

“Who?”

“…Peter.”

“Peter the Psychopath?” Harold repeated incredulously.

At that moment I hated him. I told him something I was not supposed to tell anyone, and he didn’t even believe me. I nodded in contempt, standing up, swaying only slightly.

“Yeah,” I breathed, “Anyway, I should go. Thanks for letting me in, I’ll be okay now.”

“Woah, I don’t think so, bro. It’ll probably be better if you stay here tonight.”

“I shouldn’t. I have to be in New Jersey tomorrow morning.”

“I insist,” Harry’s voice was stern, “I’m not gonna let you wander off alone like this.”

Being alone didn’t necessarily score high on my ‘things I wanted to do’ list and I nodded stupidly, staring at my brother for further instructions.

“You can take the sofa, I ain’t gonna have you in my bed,” he suggested and I nodded again.

“Alright, good night,” Harry started to walk to the door, then hesitated, “It will be alright, lil’ bro.”
I didn’t say anything, but felt just the tiny bit better at his words. He was probably right. As long as Harry was there, nothing bad would happen.



I woke up in a sweat, panting. The nightmare faded slowly and I shook my head, wondering where the hell I was for a moment. Harry’s house was large, much too big for a man living here on his own for the past two years. But then again, people said that about my house as well. I got up stiffly. I had a six thousand dollar mattress at home, and wasn’t all that used to sleeping on couches. Stretching, I turned to the kitchen, looking briefly at the clock. It was almost eight in the morning, and if I wanted to be anywhere near on time in New Jersey, I’d have to leave in about ten minutes.

Ah well, getting on time was overrated.

To my surprise, Harold appeared in the doorway just five minutes later. Normally, he got up for work around seven and left ten minutes later. He was an early bird.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I stated the obvious.

“I called in sick,” Harry mumbled, leaning against the counter. I had chosen a chair at the dining table and gingerly let myself sink down on it. Harry was staring at me again, waiting for me to give in…. so I did.

“What?” I growled.

“You were having a nightmare.” Harry stated solemnly. I blinked.

“So?”

“Wanna tell me what it was about?”

“Not really.”

“Are we gonna pretend nothing is wrong now?”

“I don’t know, can we?”

“So you didn’t tell me anything last night?” Harry sounded annoyed. This game went down almost everytime we really needed to talk, but neither of us felt like it.

“I was kinda hoping that had been part of the nightmare too,” I muttered. Wordlessly, Harold handed me a glass of apple juice. “Really? I could do with a double whiskey right now,” I grumbled, but accepted the drink nevertheless.

“Too bad I don’t have any. Besides, it’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

I just shrugged and took a long sip of the sweet, sugary liquid. I tried to keep my thoughts and feelings superficial. Harry sighed deeply and finally came to sit next to me. “You sure you okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the table. If I turned to look at him, I would surely break down again. I tried to smile, but I was pretty sure it looked more like a horrifying deformation of my mouth than an actual smile, so I stopped that too. We sat in silence for a while, both of us staring at the table with fake interest.

Bzzz

My phone vibrated against my leg and I stiffened noticeably. Deftly, I kept staring ahead, sipping the apple juice Harold had given me like there was nothing happening. I felt Harry’s expectant gaze upon me and took a deep breath.

“I should probably see who it is,” I smiled that horrifying smile again. Harry nodded with a frown, not blinking even once.

I reached down into my pocket, closing my fingers around the device that had caused me so much stress in the last few months. I closed my eyes briefly before turning it on, accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

I swallowed hard, recognizing the voice instantly. “Why are you calling me?”

“You shouldn’t have gone to your brother, Brian.”

“Why are you calling?” I repeated, squeezing my eyes shut.

“You’re gonna watch them die one by one, I promise you that,” Peter growled and then hung up. I took the phone from my ear and stared at it as if it were a foreign object. Feeling my heartbeat rising, I nearly dropped the device as it vibrated in my hands again.

You’re gonna watch them die, Brian.

I stared at the message, then at Harold’s concerned face and finally I flung the phone with an outraged scream across the kitchen.

Jumping up, I ignored Harry’s surprised yelp as I crossed the room in only four long strides and threw open the door. I was angry, no, I was furious. How dare he? How dare he blatantly threaten my family like that?

“Brian!” I heard Harry call weakly, but I didn’t pay him any attention. I was shaking in anger, looking around for something I could molest, something I could break to feel just a tiny bit better.

“Brian!” Harry yelled again, a little louder this time, a little more urgent as well. In a flash, he stood behind me, grabbing my wrists, just like Peter had done before he’d dragged me into the alley. I growled like a wild animal, turning around and shoving my older brother back.

He stumbled, almost falling over the antique decoration that was set up on the side table next to the couch. Instead, he managed to avoid the expensive looking vase and landed on his bum instead.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Harold cried, breathing hard as he hurriedly got to his feet again.

I stared at him savagely, panting like I had done the hundred meters in ten seconds.

“Nothing,” I replied flatly, “Nothing is the matter. I’m alright. I’m sorry I shoved you.”

Harold shook his head vigorously, not daring to touch my arms again. “You’re not alright, damnit! Don’t lie to me, Brian!”

“I’m not lying,” I told him monotonously, “I’ll have to leave now.”

“No! Don’t you dare!” Harry yelled, but I was already backing away.

“You can’t keep me here, Harold,” I said softly, a small, apologetic smile on my lips. “I have a recording day. Also known as a busy day.”

“Brian…”

“I’ll see you later.”
Chapter End Notes:
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