It was painful madness that would spread through my world like the black death., and destroy my family. I seemed to live the rest of that week in a daze. I didn't cry. I didn't get angry or upset.  I didn't feel at all. 

The week I went back to school was the worst, reality slammed back into my life breaking my bones as it hit. It wasn't the whispers or constant gossip that hurt me the most, it was the constant pity. At least three times a day friends or even teachers would come and offer their sympathies, unaware that all I heard was patronising and insignificant words. It was a relentless battle to stay awake, but it wasn't sleep that clawed at me. My mind seemed to yearn not to feel. Often I would slip into an often dream- like state, except of course to me it felt more like a nightmare. Even my friends, who once I had laughed at and joked with seemed a long way away in a totally separate world, perhaps they were.

My family however seemed to pull away from me. My brother had begun to fall from grace slowly slipping into unhappy habits. My mother, heartbroken and depressed, stayed in her room only emerging to eat or wash. My dad retreated even further into work shutting himself in his office and drinking his sorrows away. We all seemed to be living in a hellish bubble unable to break free. Needless to say neither of my parents cooked or cleaned, the house was becoming decrepit, just a jumbled collection of bricks and dusty bookshelves.  

The first afternoon it happened I had been out. My "friends" had invited me to this cafe they always went to. So I had tagged along, pretending to listen whist they talked about school and boys and what film they were going to see this weekend. I knew what I was doing this weekend, I was going to my sisters funeral. When it was over I walked home. 

As soon as I got to my street I realised something was wrong. A police car sat in my driveway. I rushed into my house and through to the living room. My mother and farther sat there looking like naughty children whist my brother stood hunched in a corner scowling. My mother stood as I entered the room 

"Alice," She rushed towards me "Where have you been" She clutched at me with her stubby fingers, bruising my arms. 

"I told you mum," I scowled and pulled free from her grip "I went out with my friends,"

"Oh" She replied and sat back down. The police woman looked at me strangely. I stared back 

"Miss Wrothgate, I'll explain why we are here shall I?" She looked at my mum obviously expecting an interruption. Mum just sat there watching the floor. The police woman sighed and continued "Your brother has been caught committing a serious offence, assault," I looked over and met my brothers unwavering gaze, that look said it all. I knew who he had beaten up and I knew why. The police woman now looked taken aback, she had clearly expected me to be upset or shocked, and I would of been if I hadn't been discussing this with my brother for a whole week. 

The day we knew hanna died me and my brother decided it was Harry's fault. Harry was Hanna's boyfriend. They had dated for almost three years and it was him who persuaded her to leave. He had decided to go on a trip to america and he had dragged Hanna along. She never wanted to go, she never wanted any of it. 

So now I knew exactly why Tomas (my brother) had done it. His grief had morphed into anger. 

After the police woman had left my parents walked out of the room, leaving me and my brother standing in an awkward silence. He looked up at me again, he looked ashamed and almost proud, but the main emotion that seemed to twist his face was pain. I hugged him then, and he hugged me back enclosing me so tightly i couldn't breathe. letting go he stepped away and threw himself down onto the sofa. 

"It was harry wasn't it," Tomas looked up at me "The one you beat up," He nodded and stared across the room away from me 

"I had to do it Hanna," I sat down next to him and stared out the window "I couldn't let everybody think he was a great hero for trying to save her," Tomas shifted to stare me straight in the face "He killed her Han,"

I stood up and looked at my older brother, he seemed small to me now, his thin body hunched together on the sofa, a jumble of bones. His light blonde hair covering his pale face, he looked as if he'd lived a thousand years since two weeks ago, we all did.  I turned, and walked out of the room. 

The End

2 comments about this story Feed