My Viewpoint || J.JK ✓

48

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Rick's Viewpoint.

"Ma'am, what did you mean by fabricated truth? What were implying at in your latest interview?" A female reporter struggled to speak as she was being pushed around by the other ones who were as desperate as her to speak to me.

"What did you mean by the dominion of the wrecked? Who are you implying to?" Another male spoke up. Cameras flashed around, mics dying to be forced in front of my face. I sit there neutral in my facade. The glass wall was bulletproof, built on advice of the Merkels, since it was obvious that anybody could attack on me at this moment, given the amount of hatred that spewed all over the internet.

For the first time, I actually read through my social media accounts. And I couldn't help but feel the constant constriction of my chest everytime I read the hate comments. I could have easily reported them for cyberbullying. But somehow, I didn't want to. A part of me was masochistic.

I clench my fists. I couldn't help but blame myself for him. Maybe the guilt that gnawed at the base of my throat. I was adding salt to his wounds. I was too dumb to notice that, I was too self centered to notice that. I was too blinded by the vices that followed, that I didn't realise I was wrong in my observations and assumptions.

Rick was so innocent. Just so, so innocent. Sure he did wrong, but that doesn't change his soul, his identity. The Merkels revealed the entire history of the Sanders. And after hearing to it, I just...can't gulp that he isn't more different than me.

The Merkels sat on the couch, making themselves comfortable with the files that they carried in their hand.

"I need to know everything about the Sanders. Right from the moment they dropped off their mother's womb till now. Every fucking thing." I make myself clear and sit in front of them with the tiny device in my hand.

Michael eyed the black device but didn't say anything. He wasn't surprised to see it either. I rolled the device in my hand, and that's when he averted his gaze.

"Sanders were born and brought up with every luxury of life. Misery and need weren't in the vocabulary of their family. And the brothers were excellent in every field. Be it in academics, be it in sports, be it in co-curriculars, they aced everything. Both equally great." Michelle explained. She handed me a particular file labelled 'confidential'.

Childhood pictures of Rick and Alexander with trophies and medals. Alexander was mostly in a white coat and a small pair of scientific glasses that hung on his neck with a neutral or bored-like expression while Rick was the active kid always grinning like a cheshire cat.

"Alexander is older than him by two or three years. He was always the quiet one among the two. Never spoke much but he is a genius. Literally. He has an iQ of a hundred and fifty-five." Michael added as he handed me the copies of their achievements. And sure did he ace it all.

"Rick was more of an...emotional person. He was more..or let's say he wasn't passionate for studies as Alex was. He just did what he did. He was more of a cultural person, singing and sporting were his right and left hands." Michelle explained.

"They were good and all, until something happened when Rick turned seven and Alex was nine or ten." Michelle pursed her lips.

"What? What happened?" I asked curiously.

"Their dad was found dead, by Rick and the very next day, Alex had come in with blood stains on his coat. Rick wasn't a stupid boy, he was quick enough to connect but Alex just shoved him away saying he was delusional. And since then, the tension between them was fairly evident."