Owen's Revenge

Chapter 2 - Fight Club

I desperately scrambled to free my big brother from the strict hogtie before the rest of our family caught us in the act. I didn't want to have to explain why my older sibling was bound and crying.

I definitely didn't want my parents to find out about either of us being bullied at school. They would probably pull us out of Parkview and make us start over somewhere new. I finally had two friends. I wasn't willing to give that up. Even worse, what if they made us homeschool? I don't think I could spend that much time with Mark every day, especially if he didn't change.

Once my brother was free, I quickly picked up all the debris and hid the evidence under his bed. As I stood back up, I was bearhugged and body slammed on his bed. Mark straddled my chest and pinned my arms under his knees. He had fire in his eyes.

"Cut it out, Mark! Mom and Dad are home!" I cried.

"No, they aren't! I can't believe you actually fell for that, Twerp!" laughed my evil sibling. "They won't be home for hours. That is going to be hours of hell for you, Nerd! "

Apparently, this was a hard "NO" for my request for a truce.

"I may not be a bully at school, but as your older brother, I will treat you however I want at home," growled my vengeful sibling.

To prove his point, Mark slowly slobbered on both of his index fingers, then shoved them in my ears, giving me the dreaded double wet willy.

"Ewww! Gross!"I cried.

Mark reached for the bag of zip ties but cursed when he discovered that I had used every last one on him. With minimal resources within reach, he used his phone charger cord to lash my left wrist to the headboard of his bed and his belt to secure my other arm.

It was crude but gave him the freedom to reposition himself. He lifted my shirt over my head, blocking my vision.

Next, I felt him pinch both of my nipples and twist. The double purple nurple caused me to scream in pain. Tears began to flow. My brother seemed unphased as he said, "Whistle and I will let go."

That jerk knows that I can't whistle. Now he was just being cruel. Given no choice, I began pushing spurts of air out of my lips like an idiot and hoping for a miracle.

Eventually, Mark became bored with this game and began slapping my stomach, giving me a pink belly.

"St-stop it, Mmark. Pleease!" I studered between slaps.

"Stop? I'm just warming up, "teased my brother as he began to tickle my defenseless ribs and armpits.

I squealed and begged as I squirmed and thrashed in my bonds. After an eternity of this hell, he finally stopped tickling me and started to tie his blankets around my legs.

Mark removed my shirt from my face. He had an evil smirk on his face. "I want you to think about how screwed you really are while I go find more things to tie you up with."

As he left the room, I quickly tested my bonds. They were piss poor at best. The blanket started to work loose as soon as I wiggled my legs. I had already felt the belt loosen off while I was being tickled, and I knew the phone cord would snap if I tried.

I slid my arm free of the belt but immediately heard my brother stomping down the hall. With no time for a full escape, I placed my glasses on the bedside table to keep them safe and slid my wrist back into the loose knot of the belt.

Mark knelt down on the foot of the bed, holding a roll of kitchen twine. I am not sure exactly what he thought that was going to hold. For a kid that wants to be an engineer, he seems freakin clueless.

As he leaned over to tie my ankles, he stopped. He noticed that something was off.

"Wait! What happened to your glasses?" He questioned suspiciously.

I quickly tucked my knees into my chest, then donkey-kicked him as hard as I could. The impact caused him to fall backward off the bed and crash down onto the floor.

I quickly wiggled free of the blankets and belt. One hard tug and the phone charger cable snapped.

As he started to get up, I sprang on top of him like a spider monkey.

I am not going to bore you with every last detail of the battle royale that ensued. It's safe to say that neither of us were strong enough or skilled enough to seriously hurt each other. I am not expecting a call from Dana White, offering either of us a UFC contract any time soon.

During the melee, Mark was able to get a good shot in at my mouth. This caused my braces to split my lip open. I was able to even the score with an elbow to my opponent's face, causing his nose to gush blood. There were a few other good shots mixed in the mess, but most of our efforts were wasted rolling around on the floor, not knowing any actual wrestling holds. This evolved into a mini wedgie war.

It was at this point that I realized that my brother had probably not showered all weekend. He was probably tucked away in this room, gaming the whole time. He stunk of B.O. and I was now up close and personal with the stench.

Soon, we were both exhausted, laying on the bedroom floor. Both of us were wheezing and coughing, unable to breathe. I reached blindly up onto Mark's night stand, grabbing his asthma inhaler. I took a puff myself, before passing the "nerd vape" to my oxygen deprived sibling.

After a few minutes to recover, Mark finally broke the silence. "If you are going to start fighting back, I guess I need to join a gym, " joked my Brother.

I giggled as I replied, "I can't imagine you in a gym with all those Jocks. That sounds like pure hell".

"Ya, It sounds like grade nine phys-ed class all over again," chuckled Mark, adding, "you don't have Gym class yet, do you?"

"Nope, not till second semester", I replied.

"Spoiler alert, It's going to suck!", teased my brother.

Laying there on the floor chatting was the closest thing to bonding that the two of us had done in years. Mark even started to open up a bit, explaining the story behind the skidmark nickname, and some of the tips and tricks that have helped him survive the last two years of highschool.

We were snapped out of this beautiful moment by the sound of the front door opening and then closing.

"Boys! We're home! We brought pizza for dinner!" Called our mother.

Both of us were starving at this point. We both jumped up and raced to the kitchen.

"Oh my god! What happened to you two? Who did this to you? Are you alright?!" Screamed my mom.

At first, I was a little panicked and confused until I looked over at my brother. He had dried blood on his face from the bloody noise and a black eye. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was ripped and had blood stains from his nose.

Looking at my own reflection, my lip was swollen and bloody, and I had a cut above my right eye.

We were both at a loss for words as to how we were going to explain this.

"Eric! Get in here! Call the police!"shouted my mother.

Our father ran in the room in a panic but quickly rolled his eyes at us and shook his head in disapproval.

"We had a little disagreement. It's ok now, "offered my brother.

"You did this to each other?! Have you two lost your freakin minds?! What happened to using your words?" Cried our mother.

Dad ushered Mom into the next room so they could talk. I heard him say, "Welcome to teenage boys, honey. They do this sometimes. It's all the hormones. I can remember many times that my brothers and I would scrap trying to sort out the pecking order at that age."

This did not seem to go over well with our mother.

I did smile when I heard Dad say, "At least Owen finally stood up for himself. It's about damn time. Maybe this will finally help lower our underwear budget in this household."

In the end, there wasn't much Mom could do. Really, what is the point of grounding two introverted nerds? We really didn't want to leave our rooms anyway.

The End