Page 73 of Never Too Late

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Before I realise what I’m doing, I am pulling all my posters from the walls, pushing everything off the units, emptying all the draws onto the floor.

Worthless, stupid, pathetic.

Without any hesitation, I make my way towards the window ledge at the back of the bedroom. In the distance, I can see where the sky meets the sea. Tyler saw the way my face lit up when I saw the view and didn’t argue when I said I wanted this room.

He’s always been so caring of me. So protective.

Slowly running my finger across the window ledge, my hand comes to the picture frame which sits proudly looking upon me. Staring at me.

The photo of Mum holding me when I was a newborn watches over me, similar to the night sky in the view outside. A constant reminder that she’s gone.

I trail my finger around the edge of the frame, moving it towards the centre to circle her face.

Would she be ashamed of me right now?

A wave of anger washes over me, anger that she got taken from me too soon. Anger that she isn’t here anymore.

Would she hate me as much as I hate myself?

I inhale a deep breath as I turn my body, now facing the door in the opposite direction, and without a second thought, I throw the frame towards the wall as the bedroom door opens rapidly, in walking Tyler to witness my self-destruction.

“Hey, take it easy, what’s going on? What happened?” he panics. Turning to shut the door after himself, he notices the photo and frame smashed on the floor. Shards of glass lay on top of the endless piles already there, but right now, I don’t care.

I freeze for a moment, watching him bend down, pushing the shards onto the floor away from the picture. His shoulders tense, his body becomes stiff. He can’t look at me.

I don’t blame him, I can’t look at myself either.

Keeping his head down low, he starts to speak, slowly, in pain, “You’ve got to tell me what’s happened, Dax. You can’t keep it locked up like a bottle. You can’t take it out on Mum either.”

“Of course I can’t. Because she’s dead. She left me. Everyone always leaves me.”

“Everyone leaves? I’m still fucking here. I’m standing right here, Dax. And you’re shutting me out. I have never once left you. And I never fucking will. But you’ve got to let me in. You’ve got to speak to me. I don’t know what's going on in your head, I don’t know what you’re thinking. You need to tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

I don’t know when I started to scream, but I welcome the dryness of my mouth, the burn in the back of my throat.

“I don’t deserve help, Tyler. I’m fucked up. I hurt people, I hurt myself. Everybody just fucking leaves me. You should do yourself a favour and leave me too.” My body aches, I feel the weight of defeat. “Save yourself and leave me.”

Tyler strides from the opposite side of the room towards me, I can see the anger in his body. The pain in his face. He’s never been the aggressive kind, he’s never caused pain for anyone. But right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if his fist met my face.

Part of me wants it too.

Maybe it would wake me up from my nightmare.

“I promised her I would look out for you. That’s what I’ve spent all this time doing. People come and go, some people leave, Dax. But I will never fucking leave you.” His voice starts to break, reducing to a whisper. “I’m not breaking my promise to her, not now. Not ever. I can’t”

Defeat.

“Well maybe I want you to.”

Before I’d finished saying the six words, I’d noticed the shift in his face.

The disgust, the rage. The pain.

And for the first time in my life, I think my brother hates me.

No, I don’t think, I know.