Unnoticed

Like I said yesterday, everyone forgets. We all went through our day like nothing ever happened. Well I stayed in my room for an unhealthy majority of the day. But everyone has already forgotten. I just can't understand why. I keep asking for someone to explain to why everyone just forgets. Maybe I'm just not the person for this task. If I'm not, then who the fuck is? No one else gives a damn about what happens to my brother. If I'm not the person, then who is?

My brother has a black eye, my mom tells me. I told her that I didn't care. I would have added that I should have got the other eye, too, but that wouldn't have been too nice. I really didn't care about the black eye. If anything, he's probably proud of having a black eye.

God, why doesn't anyone give a fuck?

Today, I decided to take initiative and take care of things around the house, run errands, take my brother away from that cursed playstation. So that's what I did. I told my brother to get ready and I took him with him to run my errands. We got along pretty well. We went to Best Buy because there was DVD-ROM for $20. I even offered to buy my brother the DVD of The Outsiders which is a book he has been raving about ever since he got out of school.

I don't know what went wrong. I was trying to teach him to wash the dishes. I could tell that things were starting to boil over so I send Xab away. My brother snaps at me. A little cuss word turns into a sock on the arm. Before I could retaliate, Xab is grabbing me, attempting to drag me away from the kitchen but I tell him to leave, very firmly. He leaves hopelessly.

I try to explain to my brother that I keep trying and trying to make things better for him, to try to make things better for everyone in the family. Then I say that after everything everyone does for him, he's still a total asshole. Even as I speak, he is being a total asshole. Trying to glare at me with big eyes. Eventually he gets fed up with my lecture and before I know it, he attacks me. I throw him on the floor trying to keep him down because he's already out of control, hoping that Xab didn't really leave. I lose it, totally lose. I pummelled him with my fists a few times. And I hate it when I do that.

He gets up and runs for the phone screaming that he's going to call the police. Whatever. I was a little scared but my speedy thoughts were that if the cops came, it would only be better. I have no idea why I thought that. Maybe because they would arrest me for child abuse and I would just get the hell out of there. Or maybe there would be enough attention on the situation. Or maybe they would get referred to that damn family counselor that was suppose to call my mom years ago. The phone is dead, though. That's a cordless phone for you.

He runs crying and screaming to his room while I collapse onto the couch, wondering what to do next. Three things: a knife (to puncture whatever balloon of emotion I did not want in me), screaming in the middle of the street, or calling Xab back - these things roll through my thoughts over and over. I quickly forget the screaming in the street part and after trying to regain my rationale, I forget the knife, too. I call Xab back after I get the phone working.

While I wait, I asses damages. I have a swollen knuckle, four puffy scratch marks and a bruise. My brother is worse off. I haven't seen him since but I'm pretty sure there's a bruise on his face since I struck him there. Why'd I have to hit his face? I don't know.

Xab returns. I tell him to check on my brother. We sat quietly for a while. Then I burst into tears not knowing what else to do, not knowing what else to think. I tell him that I'm the only fucking person that cares. No matter what everyone else says, I am the only one that cares for the bastard. People may say they care but they fucking don't. If they did care they would do something about it, not let my brother rot. Xab tries to say that he cares to but I tell him that he doesn't. After the tears are dried and the bruises disappear, people just forget what happens. Even he does. Everyone just asks like nothing happens. If I killed myself with a note saying that it's their fucking fault for letting my brother do this to himself, they would probably forget.

I go to my room and Xab helps my brother finish washing the dishes. Xab and I talk afterwards. I give Xab his birthday present (the DVD-ROM drive). It was an odd present-opening experience for him, I bet. I was sitting there trying to fight off the tears, insisting that opening the present early would make me happy.

My mom comes home while he's opening his present. Before she could find out for herself what happened, I very calmly tell her that we got into a fight. She's exasperated, walks through the house to assess damages and check on my brother. Then she askes me what happened. It's the same old story, mom. We argue and then we throw punches.

"Why didn't you just use a knife?" she says. I stare at her in horror and hopelessness. I just wanted to scream. See, no one fucking cares.

"Gosh mom! Why did you have to say that??" I start crying again and now begin to kick the wall. She starts crying too, assuring me that she was just tired, she didn't mean it.

I calm down after a while. I start talking with Xab for a while. He hands me a tissue. I wipe my tears and blow my nose.

"I can never get that down. The nose-blowing and tear-wiping. I would blow my nose first and then wipe my tears. then I would have snot everywhere."

"Well, you don't cry as much as I do. No one cries as much as me. When you cry as much as me, tissue-handling becomes an art."

"No, I cry as much as you. I cried this morning," he admits.

"Why?" He explains that his mom was coming down on him about his grades again.

"She doesn't think that going to school is about something more than grades. I told her that I think that going to school is about furthering yourself, not just about the grades. She said that that's just crazy."

I start to wonder if everything is screwed up because of me. If I didn't go to a school so far away, would everything be alright? Would Xab be happier? Would he be getting better grades? Would my parents try harder? Would my brother care?

I don't wanna go back

Tomorrow (technically, later today) I will be going back to my school's area to visit the apartment I'm going to be living in to move in some furniture, sign papers and mourn over the approaching death of my escape from reality. Dammit.

I'm really dreading going back to school. I guess I really haven't tried getting myself excited over it. There is a lot to look forward to. I just don't care. I wanna stay here. I'm going to relive my freshman move-in day again. Dang. I cried for the first week I was away from home.

I don't want to leave Xab. I feel like we've grown so close over the summer and now I just don't want to be apart from him. Our schedules are more busy now so I don't think that we're going to be able to waste so much time talking and chatting like we used to. I just don't know if I can cope. I can cope. What am I talking about? It's just going to be hard.