Page 3 of Bossy Hero

Once I finally get my whiny brother into the hallway, he shakes out of my grasp and faces me. “Alan, I don’t want to stay home alone. What if I have a nightmare?”

“Then don’t go to sleep,” I snap without thinking.

His face grows deadly serious, and he drops his shame-filled gaze to the carpet. “You know those don’t only happen when I’m sleeping.”

Fuck.

Daniel had his first break with reality when he was about six years old. We were watching Saturday morning cartoons, and he kept answering questions I didn’t ask. I don’t remember what his words were, but he made no sense. At one point, he glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes glazed in sheer panic. He bolted from the room, screaming bloody murder. Mom thought I’d done something to fuck with him, but I was just sitting there the whole time.

Once he was calm enough to talk, she brought him back in to explain what was wrong. The sheer terror in his eyes will haunt me forever.

To this day, he swears that an ax-wielding madman was standing right behind me. That’s who he was talking to, only he didn’t know the man had a weapon until the commercial break when he finally turned around.

Freaked me the fuck out.

Sadly, it wasn’t the only time that happened. It’s been more than ten years of this shit. He can go weeks without one or have them back-to-back-to-back. Some of the episodes last for days. Others a few minutes.

No rhyme or reason.

While they aren’t always violent or scary, he can’t discern between the hallucination and reality. He doesn’t just see things that aren’t there, he feels them. Hears and smells them too. When he was little, the best way to explain it to him was to call them nightmares that he had while awake. He still calls them that, even though we know they’re part of his mental illness.

As I probe deep into his eyes, I see beyond the typical younger brother behavior. He’s not acting this way for attention or to annoy me.

He’s scared to stay alone. Wholeheartedly frightened to his core.

So I cave.Partially.

“Fine, kid. Listen. Although you can’t come with me, Robbie and I will come straight back here as soon as we get the girls. This way, you won’t be alone for too long.”

His fidgeting hands crawl to the bottom hem of his shirt, and he starts plucking at the fabric. “It’s already dark. What if?—”

“Don’t be paranoid,” I warn, keeping my tone flat to instill some confidence. “You’re gonna be fine. You got this.”

“How long will you be gone?”

I clap him on the upper back, offering a bit of comfort with a half hug. “An hour tops.”

“You promise?”

Resigned to hurry home to him, I nod solemnly. “Yeah, buddy. I promise.”

Nibbling his lower lip, he darts his eyes around the hallway. “What should I do while you’re gone?”

“Call in a pizza order and watch some TV. By the time the delivery guy gets here, we’ll be back.”

“K. Then what?”

I stifle a frustrated groan. “We’ll have pizza with you. Order enough for all of us. I’ll let you hang out with us for a while, but the second I give you the signal, you say good night and go to bed. And then stay in your room.” I slant my head to the side, narrowing my eyes at him. “Don’t fuck this up for me. Screw my chance with this girl, and I’ll make your life hell.”

He agrees with an unsteady nod, reaching deep to gather his courage. A hint of his playful side creeps to the surface. “I thought you said she was awoman.”

Chuckling, I scruff his shaggy brown hair. “Smart-ass.”

As I breeze through the house checking for anything lying around that might embarrass me, I pause at the door to my father’s study. That prickly feeling from earlier returns, starting in my gut and branching outward. The longer I stand there, the more it spreads until it’s filling my chest.

Like always, Daniel’s hovering, so I blow it off as simple annoyance. More than likely, I’m worried about him fucking up my chance to score tonight.

I swipe the car keys off the hook and march swiftly toward the front door. Daniel stomps behind me, not even a foot between us. With each step, his breathing grows louder and shakier. He sounds like he’s having a damn asthma attack.

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