Page 1 of My Brother's Keeper
My eyes lit up as I stood on the lawn of a packed mansion. Everyone from school and the nearby high school moved in and out of the house with blue cups in their hands filled with liquid poison. Some of their bodies staggered side to side while others were bent over, letting everything in their stomachs splash among the perfectly cut grass.
I eased my way through the thickness of the crowd as I entered the house. The music held bass that you could feel coursing through your body, while the living room and foyer barely had space. Bodies rocked on each other while the barely legal teens damn near dry humped each other. My eyes scanned what I could of the space until I spotted her. She stood on the stairs talking to a group of girls. Symphony fucking Harrington; is the prettiest girl in school.
She had thrown the senior class party this year. It was a tradition for one person to host a senior party, and it was her. I knew I should have been at home, but tonight was special. It was the last time I would see her before she went off to college.
I headed toward the stairs where she stood when I was stopped by one of the football players. “Drink!” he shouted.
I pushed him away because I didn’t come here to party; I came to confess. It took me four years to build up the courage to do this, and now was my only time. He gripped me around my neck, dragging me toward the kitchen. I felt like he had done it on purpose simply because everyone wanted her, but no one could have her. He poured brown liquor into a blue cup and slid it across the counter. I caught it before it tipped over. My eyes narrowed in on the tinted brown liquid. I placed my nose to the cup, and the hairs in my nose stood up from the harsh smell. It made me want to gag, yet also made my mouth salivate.
Two other guys came into the kitchen. “Mison Keyton. The awkward kid. You're about to grow some hair on your chest.” He laughed along with the rest of the people standing around.
Each of them is wealthy, no worries, and all smiles. Their parents probably didn’t care that they were all making bad decisions because, in the end, they would somehow walk away as if nothing had happened. They were our next officers, lawyers, judges, and government officials, while I had no clue what was next for me. There was no college in mind, no aspiration to do anything, because all my time was spent helping my mother. My father had spent most of his time working day in and day out just to afford food, my private school tuition, and my mother’s medical bills.
I set the cup down, and they all started to joke at me, trying to make me feel bad for not wanting to indulge. I wasn’t supposed to be here anyway, but that feeling of missing out on a possibility convinced my brain that this is where I needed to be. I turned to leave the kitchen and saw Symphony and her friends standing there, watching. My mother had always warned me about peer pressure, and I didn’t believe her. Hell, I didn’t have manyfriends except Monfua, but that was because he was the new kid, and nobody ever befriended the new kid.
The sounds of chanting forced me to decide.“Drink it! Drink it! Drink it! Drink it!”
I glanced at the group of people in the kitchen and back at her as her eyes lowered on me.She’s watching me.I turned to look at the cup, then up at one of the football players. I reached over, grabbed the bottle, and placed it to my lips. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and let the liquor slip into my mouth. The taste was harsh, hot, and nasty. I pulled it away from my lips, hearing everyone cheer. I shook my head to rid myself of the taste. My mind shifted, and everything around me seemed to move at a fast pace. A grin eased on my face as the liquor absorbed me. It was like something in me was begging to be unleashed. However, for those mere few seconds, I was the cool kid.
When I glanced back over at Symphony, she was gone. I wanted to chase her, but instead I turned to the group in the kitchen, smiled, and placed the bottle back to my lips.
After being in this space for what seemed like fifteen minutes, guzzling back-to-back drinks, I checked the time. The numbers became blurry. I tried to breathe slowly and focus my attention on my watch. “Ten, no, eleven thirty,” I mumbled.
That’s when panic set in. I needed to leave. I had been gone for two and a half hours. I went to rush out of the kitchen when my feet didn’t move in a running motion, yet crisscrossed over each other.“Shit!”
Everything around me was spinning, and the closer I got to the front door, the more it felt like I was being pulled into a vortex. The feeling of a tap on my shoulder made me swing my head. However, I couldn’t tell if it was Symphony or someone else. I didn’t have time to talk because I needed to get home. Istumbled and staggered out the door, sucking in fresh air. “Ok, Mison, come on, man,” I coached myself.
I took baby steps to my bike. The one thing my mother was able to get for me. I grabbed my helmet, slid it on, before I got on my bike, and took off. The ride to the other side of town was slow, swerving, blurry, but I had made it. As soon as I pulled into the driveway, I noticed I had beaten my father home. Before I could pull my helmet off, Xavier was rushing outside.
I could see his mouth moving, but his words were so choppy I couldn’t fully make out what he was saying, except the wordMom. I stumbled, staggered, and swayed my way into the house. As soon as I entered, the sounds of Jalen’s cries scared me. It was as if the faster I tried to move, the harder it became to see. I gripped the hallway walls to keep from falling, then I saw her. Jalen was lying over her, crying. “Wh-what happened?” I slurred.
I dropped down in front of her, pushing Jalen off. Is she breathing? I thought.
My father had taught me CPR, but I couldn’t fucking remember the steps. I could barely see. I placed my hand on her chest. “One, two, three, four, five.”
My hands shook as I couldn’t remember the count. Tears trickled down my face. “Ok, Ma, let me try again,” I sobbed.
I blew out a sharp breath to give it another try. All I needed was another chance, but before I could, I was being moved out of the way by someone. I didn’t know what was going on, but I did know I had to throw up. I rushed to the bathroom, gagging over the toilet. While I tried getting rid of the sick feeling, there was commotion on the other side of the door. I leaned back on the tub while my arm rested on the toilet, and before I knew it, I had dozed off.
***
“Get your ass up!” I heard my father bark.
My head fell forward as it slowly rose. My head ached and my stomach curled. The entire night was a blur because the only thing I remembered was seeing Symphony before I started drinking. When I glanced at my pops, he was angry; he looked like he’d been crying for hours and like he’d lost his best friend.
He squatted down, gazing at me. His lips tightened, his tears were screaming in pain. “I asked you to stay home. I asked you to watch her. I asked you to be responsible, and now she’s gone. Goddamnit, Joyce is gone.”
“What?”
“Mison, your mother didn’t make it. She is gone and she’s never coming back.”
The emotions that consumed me were indescribable. I wanted to say something, but my tears choked me up. I sobbed. My father wiped his face as he stood to leave the bathroom. “While you were drunk, your mother was dying. Mison, I taught you things for a reason,” he finished as he walked out.
My brothers stood there watching me as if they were disappointed, too. I slowly stood from the floor and made my way toward my parents’ room. There was no way this was real. I stood in the doorway to see the empty bed.Was I the reason for her death? Was it me who killed her because I could not save her?I couldn’t handle it. I was ashamed. I was scared and disappointed in myself. I wanted it all to be a dream. I wanted to forget.
I sat on the edge of my bed for hours trying to piece together what had happened in the last few hours. My heart hurt and my mind would shut off. I cried, prayed that it was a dream, then cried some more. The feeling of my mistake weighed on me. Every thirty minutes, one of my brothers would come to try to talk to me, but I had no words. What was I going to say? Myfather hadn’t even looked my way since leaving the bathroom. I felt like pure shit.
I stood from the bed and went to the kitchen. I searched each cabinet until I found the half-bottle of whiskey my mother and father had. It wasn’t often he drank until he was celebrating, however, for me. I didn’t want to remember any of it. I snatched the bottle, tucked it under my arms, and went back to my room. I slammed the door closed before sitting on my bed and opening the top. The smell hit me first, then my mouth sizzled. I closed my eyes as I took a guzzle of the liquor.
