[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
11th of November 2005

I don’t remember how I got there, but suddenly, I was on my brother’s porch, wildly banging on the front door. I faintly felt the tears rolling down my face, but I couldn’t really care at that moment.

“Harry!” I cried, panting hard. I found it particularly difficult to keep the panic at bay. What was taking him so long? Peter hadn’t followed me, had he? I yelled his name a few more times, and finally the door creaked and revealed my very disoriented, sleepy looking brother.

“Brian?” he asked, amazed. “What the hell?”

I only then realized it was eleven thirty in the evening, and my brother looked less than happy to see me, considering he had to get up for work tomorrow at a God-awful point in time. His annoyed expression turned into a concerned one in record speed though, when he took in my dishevelled appearance and tearstained face.

“Brian, what are you doing here?” he asked softly, reaching out a hand.

I could have considered the fact that the last time had time to visit my brother was two years ago. I could have considered that Harry was mostly an outsider in most parts of my life. I could have considered that of all people, Harry was the last person who’d know what to do when a stalker was on your ass.

I didn’t. I only considered the fact that Harold was my older brother, and that, of all people on the entire face of this earth, he’d know what was best. That’s why I didn’t bother to say a word there on his porch, that’s exactly why I just stumbled forward, wrapped my shaky arms around his neck and pressed my face into his shoulder. It was eleven thirty, no one else could see us, I was sure of it. I checked about a dozen times.

Harold was completely caught off-guard, and clumsily stumbled backwards into the house. Not knowing what else to do, he returned the suffocating embrace and I felt like I was five years old again, waking up from another nightmare about hospitals and illness. Harry had been there, just like he always was. Just like he was now.

“Bro, you’re kinda freaking me out here,” Harry muttered, trying to break free as I desperately clung to him. “You gotta tell me what’s going on.”

I just shook my head. I couldn’t tell Harry anything. What if Peter found out? Just the thought of that maniac made my heart pick up speed and I was breathing way too quickly. It was like being back in that alley, Peter’s menacing face hovering above me as he said those words.

As long as they’re here.

I felt my knees buckle as Harry’s face became a picture of blurry splotches. In a flash of a second, the oxygen seemed all but disappeared and I was left gasping for air.

I could almost feel Peter’s meaty hands close around my throat again as he…



“Woah, woah! Brian, you gotta take it easy, okay? Here come on, let’s put you on the couch,” Harold’s voice sounded so far away, although he was right next to me, it sounded like he was calling from across the street. I barely noticed as he dragged me to the couch, pushing me down gently. I could feel his hands on my arms and his worried gaze boring into my forehead.

“Just… try to take deep breaths, alright?” He coaxed sternly, squeezing my arms, “Jeez man, you’re scaring me.”

Pressing my palms against my forehead, I kept my head down, trying to drown out the noise and horrifying thoughts inside my mind and squeezed my eyes shut.

“That’s it,” my brother’s voice drifted, “You ain’t gonna have a heart-attack on my couch.”

I finally looked up at him with teary eyes, trying to suppress a sob that closed up my throat. Harold’s eyes studied me intently, scrutinizing every inch of my face, in search of the answer as to why I had suddenly shown up at his doorstep, completely freaking out. Suddenly, he frowned deeply, “Brian, what happened to your throat?”

I only shook my head again, not daring to speak. I knew that if I would say one word, all the rest would surely follow after, and then, there would be no turning back.

“Damn it, bro, don’t go give me that crap!” Harry said and I flinched at his tone, “you can’t expect me to not start asking questions when you show up like this! You scared the hell out of me!”

I dropped my gaze and put my head back into my hands, covering my ears. It was wrong for me to have come here, I realized that now. Peter would kill Harry if he found out I’d come to him. I couldn’t let that happen. Harold didn’t have to do anything with this, I should have pulled him into this mess. I faintly felt him put one hand on my knee, trying to force me to look at him.

“Hey,” he said gently, “Whatever it is, we can figure it out, alright? You don’t have to do this alone.”