My mother always laughed when I said that all I wanted to do was be heard. She told me that I didn't talk loud enough to be heard in a crowded room, let alone by the whole world. No, no, I should find something constructive to do. Maybe I should study medicine. Or perhaps I could become a lawyer like father. That was a sensible career choice. People would pay attention to me if I made more money than them.
I was never like my parents. My elder brother catered to their dreams for him. He was a perfect student, a hard worker, made the team, made state, signed on up and was shipped off for distant lands all in the name of the American dream. The day he left, was the day I found myself truly alone. I was only small. I wanted some spark, some belief from the people who were supposed to love me, supposed to care. I'd play with the toy microphone I'd been given some Christmases before. I'd watch the other kids out of my bedroom window and commentate. I'd sit on the floor for hours and make mixtapes, pretending to be a radio DJ. When Jacob left, he gave me something else. Between studying, between perfections, he'd spend hours watching wrestling on TV. He'd tape every single show, and when I was supposed to be asleep, he'd sneak me into his room. We'd cuddle up under the blankets and watch every fight with aw.
He told me once that his dream had been very different to Mother and Father's. His dream, was to be in that four sided ring, bouncing off the ropes to the applause of thousands, to be seen all around the world. He wanted to be on that screen.
Our last moments together, I didn't want to let go of him. Ten years old and suddenly faced with the prospect of losing my best friend, my protector, my whole world...it was terrifying. But he held me tight. He wiped away my tears.
'Keep hold of dreams Sparky, don't let them go. Promise me, you won't let them go.'
I wish I'd said something to him. Told him I would never let go. He left me and I was lost. But he'd sparked something inside of me. A determination I'd never had before. I wanted to be heard, and chase those lost dreams. I found myself sat, watching those old re-runs over and over. These were people who were listened to. Who were loved and adored. Jacob had handed over what he wanted to make other people happy. It wasn't right. I'd make it better.
It's strange how little time changes you when you have plans. I grew older. I worked so hard. I watched and I added kindling to the fire inside. Every time his letters arrived, I was reminded of what I was working for. Mother and Father didn't approve, but I didn't care. I wasn't doing this for them. I was doing it for myself. For my big brother.