ENTRY 8:
[ BEAT ME LIKE A STRAY ]
DEAR YOU,
You would have loved your funeral.
It was warm and the air was scented with honeydew and freshly cut grass. The sun had settled on the horizon, turning the air that milky white and pink colour you loved. You're mother sobbed, said that you were beautiful. She spoke about you in the highest regards, you always thought she didn't love you, but she did.
She told me that she was sorry, that she was rough on you, it was because she loved you so deeply. She said she wished she could have taken it all back... all the nasty words she called you, all the strict rules she had pushed on you, all of the times she didn't say I love you.
I wish you would have been here, so you could see it for yourself. You were loved. Your father didn't speak, didn't say a word-he cried for you, tears dripping down his wrinkled face.
You're brother came up, said that justice would be done.
He looked at me.
Stared.
I didn't do anything, I kept my head down and mourned. He didn't say anything until everyone was leaving, going back to where they had come from. He grabbed my collar, called me scum.
I see through you, he said, lips tight and grimaced, I see through your lies, I see through your bullshit-they might believe you, he said, shoving my collar away, but not me. You killed her.
I didn't say anything nasty, I didn't lash out.
I wanted to.
I wanted to lash out so badly.
I wanted to scream and yell, to tell him that he wasn't the only one mourning. I wanted to hit him. I wanted him to suffer like I was.
But I didn't do that, I wouldn't do that. I didn't do that for you, because I knew that not what you would have wanted. It would have ruined your day, the day that your mother had made for you, so we could cry together.
I'm sorry for your loss, I said, I lost today, too.
That's when the first blow came from; he hit me across my face. My nose bleed, dripping down my chin. The family squealed, cried out. I cupped my nose, biting back my words. Your brother looked so mad; his face flushed, eyes wide, nostrils flared.
He didn't understand what I said, I suppose.
He hit me again,
then again,
then again,
and then again.
He didn't stop till your uncle with the long nose and sharp eyes, pushing him against the floor. I felt woozy, dizzy. The room was spinning so fast, I couldn't keep up. I tasted blood, I saw blood, I felt blood-it was everywhere, I think. You would have been proud of me, I didn't lash out. I just sat on the floor, holding my face, and stayed perfectly still.
Your mother hit him so hard, I heard the crack of her palm against his head from where I laid on the floor. Your father helped me up, I patted his back. I said it was okay, because today was emotionally for us all.
Would you like me to call the police? Your aunt with the pudgy face, and owl-like eyes, asked.
I said no,
I said I was fine,
I said there didn't need to be anymore harm,
I said that today wasn't about us,
I said it was about you.
Your mother cried, said that I was a shinning light in your life. Your father thanked me, said that your brother was just sad-he said you were both so close, like peas in a pod. I know that, of course.
He'd come to the hospital when your stomach was pumped, or when they stitched you up, he was always there. He'd hold your hand. Stare at me. Accused me of doing this to you, accused me of hurting you.
He never liked me, you know.
He thought I was the reason you hated yourself, the reason you were you. He threaten to kill me, I remember. Said he'd fill my stomach with rocks, throw me in the ocean, and piss into my watery grave.
I wonder if he always had this bad temper?
I never liked him either.
He was always close-so close, too close-to you. He'd always hover around you. Stare at you. He'd tell everyone how beautiful you were, how you were so perfect. He didn't act brotherly. He acted like prey, I thought.
You'd tell me he was harmless.
You'd tell me not to lose my temper, not to overreact.
Everyone spoke, cried, and listened.
I promised your mother justices would be done... I vowed it to your father. He patted me on the back, he called me son. I wished you were here, I wished you were with me. I wish that you were here right now, so you could help me make sense of this all. Your mother let me stay in your house, the guest room in the back.
You're brother was gone the rest of the night.
He didn't come back till the next day.
I wonder where he went?
FROM ME.
