Memories, Scars and Survival: High School Years

Chapter 15 - Eirik

I packed everything I thought I would need for three days at Joey's. For the first time, I wished I could stay with Charlie. I like Joey and Simon, but they both act more masculine. It felt great hugging Charlie, and the others would never hug another boy.

Once there, Mrs. Harrison answered the door for us and welcomed my mom and me into the home. While I went upstairs with my suitcase, mom and Mrs. Harrison went into their kitchen to talk. They are best friends, so I wondered how long they would be there for.

I knocked on Joey's door and walked in. He was playing hockey against his older brother on his Xbox.

"Hey bro," Joey said. It felt strange being called bro with his actual brother next to him.

"What's up?" I asked rhetorically, not expecting a genuine answer.

I sat next to Joey on his bed while his brother was sitting on a Detroit Red Wings canvas glider chair. Once the game ended, they looked at me.

"So, what's going on?" Joey asked. "Mom mentioned you're staying for a couple of days."

"Did you tell Mark anything yet?" I asked.

Joey shook his head no. "He only knows Einar's in the hospital."

I began from the beginning for Mark and told them everything I knew so far. All except why dad was beating Einar.

"Damn," Mark said. "Hopefully, he rots in jail. I wouldn't put up with that shit. I would have reported him right away."

"You can't know what you'll do until you are in that position," Joey said.

"Our father threatened him," I said. "He can be terrifying."

"He always seemed so nice," Mark said.

"Yeah, to everyone else's children except his own," I said spitefully.

"Did he beat you too?" Mark asked.

Shaking my head, "no, he loves me. He hates Einar."

Mark looked confused. "But you're identical."

I looked at Joey, hoping he would figure out not to say anything. "He said Einar was a sissy and needed to be toughened up." That was mostly true. He has said that before.

"Someone should kick his ass, see how he likes it," Mark said.

Mark left after that. Joey and I played video games until bedtime. Joey plugged in and inflated their air bed for me. It's surprising how comfortable one of these can be.

"So," he spoke as we were laying in our respective beds, "how is your poetry assignment coming along?"

"Ugh, it's not that I don't like poetry, I'm just not creative enough to think of something to write."

He laughed a little. "You haven't even started, have you?"

"I've tried," I said honestly. "I even looked online at other poems to get some ideas."

"You better not plagiarize. Mom will smite you." His mother is our English teacher. So, while he was joking around, she would fail you for cheating. She has no sympathy and will not listen to any excuses for stealing others' work.

"Maybe I'll write three haikus."

"Ha," he snorted. "You won't get above a C. Mom respects honest attempts at emotional depth. She doesn't believe haikus have any emotion. Most of her students write haikus about nature. You could try writing a haiku about specific emotions. But it's better to write a crappy long poem with feeling than a decent haiku."