How Bad Do You Want It
Arthur tucked the blankest securely around the young boy, earning a giggle from the child. Alfred smiled up at him.
"I wanna be just like you one day!" He declared quietly, pulling the sheet up closer to his chin. Arthur chuckled lightly, sitting on the corner of the bed.
"Maybe one day." He acknowledged.
"Maybe even better!" Alfred continued, his voice raising in excitement.
Arthur laughed, "We'll have to see about that." Alfred grinned, determination embodying his crystal blue eyes.
I get to make my living
Doing what I love
Every night I give my heart and soul
Sometimes that ain't enough
But brother, if you're like me
Looking down that road
Be careful of that wild wind, son
Sometimes it don't let go
Seventeen years old, Alfred stood behind the tree line waiting for the British Soldiers to pass before the American's would attack.
Sitting atop his horse Arthur rode in front of the caravan. He couldn't believe what was happening, it all seemed so unreal. Alfred had changed, or it seemed so. He'd begun to rebel, pushing away from the home Arthur had provided him. His own brother, turning against him, Arthur felt betrayed and alone.
Alfred held his breath, the red coats of the soldiers coming around the bend of the road. He spotted Arthur in the lead. Was he really ready for this? Is this what he wanted? More than anything, Alfred just wanted his freedom.
There's always a price you pay no matter what you do
If you're gonna climb that mountain to the top
It always comes down to
Arthur felt weak, betrayed, unreal as he stood in the pouring rain, facing Alfred. The brother he cared for, raised as if his own son.
"From now on! I am independent!" Alfred declared, a resilient tone in his voice. Arthur shook violently, his breathing heavy, he shook his head.
"No! You can't! I won't let you!" He argued, praying in his mind that this was enough to convince Alfred but knowing it was impossible, "I won't let you!"
Guns from both sides were aimed at each other, but Arthur knew he couldn't pull the trigger. He knew in the back of his mind and the bottom of his heart, he didn't have the courage to shoot his little brother. And still, the look Alfred gave him, full of courage. why did he not have that? Why couldn't he finish anything he started? Everything always failed on him eventually, why was this so hard?
His rifle, splashing down in the puddle beneath his feet, Arthur fell upon his knees, face buried in his hands. He could feel the warm tears roll down his cheeks with the cold rain on his skin, soaking through his coat.
"Why?" He whispered, more to himself.
Alfred frowned, "Arthur, what happened?" He questioned, "You were so great. So Big. Now..." He fell silent before speaking again, "I only wanted to be like you." He said quietly, "and now, I can be."
Can you feel it?
Can you taste it?
Can you hear it knocking at your door?
How bad do you want it?
How bad do you need it?
Are you eating, sleeping, dreaming
With that one thing on your mind?
How bad do you want it?
How bad do you need it?
Cause if you want it all
You've got to lay it all out on the line