Brother's Keeper
A/N: I own nothing! Gaz's POV. Warning: There is a Bible reference so if you don't belivie in God don't read it!
I can't help but smile as I think back to my first year of High Skool. I may have been Gothic but I wasn't suicdial like everyone thought I was. I gave up playing video games a year before High Skool started. I started smoking when I was fifteen. My firends were all like me.
"Don't give a shit about you so don't give one about us,' was our motto.
We were a bunch of social outcasts who found faith in only ourselves. My brother was worried about me, I don't understand why he cared so much. I was so mean to him. I told him that I hated him, that I wished he'd rot in hell. He shrugged it off, even when I threatened to pull a gun on him when he found out I was doing drugs. He said he wanted to help me, but I refused. I turned into a punk, hard-hearted, drug-dealing, acid tounged hellian without a care in the world. The only thing I could think about was the constant depression I suffered from the lack of money for drugs. I even stole the money my brother worked so hard to get. I was a criminal on the run. I stole, lied, cheated and even murdered. That was five years ago. Now I'm in jail. I killed him. I killed Dib. Shot him just because he wouldn't give me any money. I'm here for life. All I wanted was some fun... I had no choice! He tried to help me but he paid with his life. God, why are You torturing me?! Are You enjoying this?! You said You'd always be there for me... You lied.
"Then the LORD said to Cain, 'Where is your brother, Abel?'
'I don't know,' he replied, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' " ~Genesis 4:9
A/N: I own nothing! Gaz's POV. Warning: There is a Bible reference so if you don't belivie in God don't read it!
I can't help but smile as I think back to my first year of High Skool. I may have been Gothic but I wasn't suicdial like everyone thought I was. I gave up playing video games a year before High Skool started. I started smoking when I was fifteen. My firends were all like me.
"Don't give a shit about you so don't give one about us,' was our motto.
We were a bunch of social outcasts who found faith in only ourselves. My brother was worried about me, I don't understand why he cared so much. I was so mean to him. I told him that I hated him, that I wished he'd rot in hell. He shrugged it off, even when I threatened to pull a gun on him when he found out I was doing drugs. He said he wanted to help me, but I refused. I turned into a punk, hard-hearted, drug-dealing, acid tounged hellian without a care in the world. The only thing I could think about was the constant depression I suffered from the lack of money for drugs. I even stole the money my brother worked so hard to get. I was a criminal on the run. I stole, lied, cheated and even murdered. That was five years ago. Now I'm in jail. I killed him. I killed Dib. Shot him just because he wouldn't give me any money. I'm here for life. All I wanted was some fun... I had no choice! He tried to help me but he paid with his life. God, why are You torturing me?! Are You enjoying this?! You said You'd always be there for me... You lied.
"Then the LORD said to Cain, 'Where is your brother, Abel?'
'I don't know,' he replied, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' " ~Genesis 4:9