Page 27 of Back to Willow

It pained me to see my brother like that, struggling to make ends meet when my parents had more than enough to spare and refused to take care of him, just because he was not bending to their will.

He roughly grabbed the duffel back, swinging it over his shoulder and stalking out. With a last, disappointed look at my fuming father, I ran after my brother.

“Mase,” I called him when we reached the driveway. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

"It’s fine, brother. I don’t want you to be late for—”

I scoffed, “As if I care about that. Hop in!”

After a few minutes of consideration, Mason sighed and gave in, heading to my scooter. It was his—given by our parents—but he had decided to give it to me when he started working at the shop, knowing full well it would be taken from him, too. He told me back then, he would be working on a new ride for him at the shop, but…I didn’t think it was true. Or at least, it hadn’t happened yet.

I took the duffel bag from his shaky hand and put it in the compartment underneath my seat. At the time, I figured it was because of the adrenaline and anger of fighting because I didn’t know better.

After getting in, we rode in silence through the city for a total of fifteen minutes. It was only when we got there and parked that I ventured a word out. I wanted Mason to know I understood him and had his back, but then again, how much could a sixteen-year-old do?

“They have a weird way to show it, but they want what’s best for us.”

Now, it was his time to scoff. “They want us to be the best to show off, otherwise, they’d know that what’s best for us is to be happy and have loving and supportive parents.”

“They don’t know better.” I sighed. “I am not excusing them but, Mase—”

“But what?” he gritted, eyes blazing on mine. “I need to lower my head and do what they say, is that what you mean?”

“No, but—”

"You know you’re the lucky one, right? They dote on everything you do, everything you say!"

“That’s not true, I was just fortunate to choose a degree they approve of. If I—”

“That’s exactly why I am doing this!” he cut me off again, his words rushed and harsh. “If you were to choose something they wouldn’t approve of, they wouldn’t let you either. I am doing this to show you that you have other options, and they can’t rule your life.” He took a short pause for a deep breath. “Our lives.”

“I support you, brother,” I told him. “I want you to figure out what you want, but I also see how miserable everyone is—”

“And how the fuck do you think I am, Liam?” His voice rose. His eyes were bloodshot and wide, almost popping out of his head. If he weren’t my brother, he’d be scaring me, but I knew how fuming he was. “I was cut off, I had to find a job to survive and have been recently thrown out of my childhood house. Do you think you got it hard?”

“Weallhave it hard, Mason! One way or another!” For once, my voice boomed, matching his. “Do you think it’s easy to see Mum and Dad fight every damn day? Ignoring each other right after. Not seeing you daily? Not knowing how you are, or knowing if you need anything? They’re barely giving me any money, afraid I’ll give it to you! Which I would, you know? All you’d need to do is call me. I’m just a fucking kid, thrown into the middle of this hurricane, and I am expected to go on as if my life was perfect.When it isn’t!”

“Look at you,” he spat, an unknown fire brewing in his eyes. “Acing every subject at school, being the golden boy at even more sports than I was. You are our parent’s favourite, soon to be in med School. You even got your perfect little girlfriend, that innocent little thing that you prance around everywhere.” The edge of his voice was eerie and terrifying. This was a side of my brother I had never seen before. “But poor little Liam has got it hard!”

It was at that moment that I should have known. It was the beginning of his downward spiral, but I was just too naïve to know.To understand.

“Mase—”

“You know what?” He pushed me aside and took the duffel bag out before continuing, “Thank you for the ride.” His voice was final, not leaving any space for argument as he turned and left.

I followed him in a desperate attempt to get him to understand. I didn’t want to lose my family. Especially not my brother.

“Come on, Mase. That’s not what I meant.”

“I know very well what you meant. Don’t worry, brother.”

“Mase!” I called but he ignored me, walking down the road to the shop entrance. “Mase!” I tried one last time only to be met with his middle finger.

That was the last time I saw him seemingly sober, at least. It fucking hurt after that but I still had my haven—Willow.

Until I didn’t. And those events are just as ingrained in my brain. A couple of months later, my parents had been out for the weekend and weren’t supposed to arrive until the next morning, so I had planned to have another romantic night with her.

But it was anything but a romantic night; it was the beginning of the shitstorm for me. It wasn’t until it got close to the time we had planned to meet that I realised I still hadn’t thrown away that old condom box that I had hidden in my bedroom, and it was empty.

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