Disclaimer: I own nothing recognized
I can't stand the silence it gets under my skin little by little driving me insane with the roaring quiet. My world has revolved around constant noise for as long as I can recall and silence always meant something bad was going to happen. Because when it was silent you can hear someone taking their last breaths or gasping in pain as the blows rained down. So when the yelling downstairs would cease, Angela and I would scramble underneath Tim's bed and wait for the dreaded footsteps. The footsteps would come and drag us out from under the bed. We would struggle for all we were worth our fingernails chipped and bloody from trying to grip the wooden floor. I always let him pull me out first just to stall trying to wear him out so he would go easier on Angela. When it was over we would crawl back underneath clinging to each other. We would lay still not speaking, not crying, just listening to the passing cars and waiting for Tim to come limping in and gather us in his arms. If it didn't hurt to move to badly we all walked down to the park and sat on the jungle gym watching the cars on the distant highway.
As we got older and stronger we often fought back or joined in mostly to protect each other to this day our stepfather whatever his name is won't dare fight Tim. But then again that's true with most of Tulsa.
This was all running through my mind as I sat in the dead silent English class, Silent Worktime the stupid teacher called. It was supposedly to improve our grades or something. Well it wasn't gonna help me I only go to school because my brother will kill me if I don't. The quiet was making me edgy; I kept tapping my boot against the floor causing an echo through the classroom. With every tap the teacher's eyes narrowed smaller and smaller, the man was just dying to tell me off. The teacher began to open his mouth so I channeled my best Tim Shepard glare at him and he swallowed nervously hunkering down in his chair. Without fully thinking what I was doing, I leapt from my seat rushing around the doorframe. Breaking into a sprint down the hallway and out the main doors before anyone could stop me. Once I made it to 1st avenue the roaring in my head had subsided and I could finally think clearly, the sound of rumbling car engines soothing my nerves. Tim's gonna be all over me for skipping school I can just hear now saying, "Dammit Curly you couldn't have kept it together for just a half-hour longer".
Whatever not like it really matters to me if I complete school or not I know all the basic things anybody would really need to know anyway.
I walked around town for a while finishing calming down, but there was nothing much I felt like doing so I hitched a ride with some greasers heading back to the east side.
When I entered the front door my breath caught in my throat and I felt dizzy. There was a red substance splattered all over the kitchen.
No, No, please no I thought as my body started shaking and I sank to the floor this wasn't real it couldn't be I'm awake this isn't one of my nightmares.
Angela came around the corner and I froze she was drenched in the red substance.
I grabbed my sister franticly trying to find where all the red was coming from, "Curly what's wrong" she asked worried.
"Blood, there's blood everywhere" I whispered.
Realization dawned on Angela's face, "oh it's –" she started to explain but I had tuned her out falling into the memories from a year ago.
I was at Buck's drinking with a couple of buddies, when Buck said he had a phone call for me. I told him to take a message since I hated talking on the phone I preferred talking to people face to face.
Buck came around the bar with a strange look on his face your sister says to tell you "the porch light went out 20 minutes ago".
"Are you sure" I demanded my heart dropping to my stomach.
Buck nodded," I'm guessing that means something to you given your face is chalk white".
I nodded my thoughts racing 'the porch light is out' is an old code between the three of us it mean that one of us was hurt real badly and to get there as soon as possible.
I threw some cash on the bar and ran to the parking lot, hotwiring the first car I laid eyes on.
I ditched the car by the train tracks and sprinted the last three blocks home.
I crashed in the door to find Angela crouched on the kitchen floor next to Tim holding a dishtowel on his chest; they were both covered in deep red.
Angela met my eyes, "You know the drill" she said way too calm.
We worked in silence to stop the bleeding, but it the blood just kept pouring from Tim's wounds.
"We need to take him to the hospital" I told Angela gravely.
Angela shook her head, "No it's too expense, we got to stitch him up ourselves".
We sat still for several minute neither of us making a move to start stitching.
"You do it Curly, I can't stand the sight of needles" Angela whispered turning her head away from me.
"I can't "I whispered back terrified.
"Yes you can big brother, I'll tell you what to do" Angela replied regaining her normal confidence.
Angela poured alcohol in the wound while I sterilized the needle and thread.
I looked down at my pale brother, "It's a good thing he's not awake for this" I muttered and Angela snorted probably recalling the previous times we had patched up Tim when he was conscious.
Which is not a pleasant experience but that's mostly his fault because he's so leery of having us touch him, He seems to think yelling at us while we're trying to help will make us less likely to screw up. But we ignore him because that's just how he's showing emotion.
If Tim's in pain he yells, If he's angry he yells, if he's sad he yells It's strange but It's just Tim we just mostly contribute it to the fact that it's probably the only way he was able to get attention as a kid. Who knows it's probably some psychological thing that would make our heads hurt trying to figure the meaning behind.
Surprisingly my hand didn't shake too bad while doing the stitches.
When it was over Angela went to take a shower while I proceeded to make the kitchen no longer look like a murder scene.
The sharp iron scent stung in my nose as I soaked up the remains of blood lingering in the cracks and crevices.
I sat down next to Tim and watched his chest rise and fall, we should have taken him to a hospital instead of doing it ourselves I thought.
Angela sat down next to me laying her head on my shoulder her hair was still dripping and smelled of soap.
"What happened" I asked.
"Someone brought a blade to a skin fight" She replied softly twirling her hair on her finger.
"I'm going to kill whoever it was" I muttered angrily.
"I'll help believe me I want the bastard as bad as you do" Angela growled.
Angela and I fell silent listening to the long lonesome train whistle echoing through the night.
"I always want to live somewhere where there's noise day and night" Angela remarked," I hate the silence".
"Me too" I echoed.
"Think we should move Tim to the couch or something?" I suggested.
Angela raised her eyebrow," Be my guest, I ain't dragging him nowhere, he's too heavy"
Through some sort of unspoken decision we gathered every blanket and pillow we owned creating a huge bed on the kitchen floor.
Angela lay on Tim's left side and I laid on the right, we curled up to his sides like we used to when we were younger would sneak into his bed.
Something cold and wet on my face jerked me back to reality Angela's face swam into view; she wasn't covered in the red stuff anymore.
"Curly you need to calm down" She said stroking my cheek, "It was just red velvet cake batter, I dropped the bowl and it did a spin type thing showering the kitchen".
"I didn't mean to scare you so badly" Angela apologized sincerely, I nodded that I had heard her and scrambled to my feet I needed to get out of there.
I was angry at myself for letting my guard down; Shepards are supposed to be tough and not scared of anything. Tim never looks scared but I can tell deep down he's terrified but that's only because I've known him for so long. The daylight is fading as the darkness starts to fall it's a bad time for a greaser to be alone. Frankly I don't care nobody really messes with me being Tim Shepard's little brother. A title which I wear proudly, I want to be just like my brother, he's a protector. That doesn't mean I don't' ever get jumped by socs but I can hold my own in a fight pretty good. Tim taught Angela and I how to fight when we were in elementary school because he was worried something would happen to us when he wasn't there.
There's an abandoned boxcar down by the tracks where I go to think when I don't want to be found. The sky is completely black now and there's a long loud train whistle in the distance. A familiar car engine cuts the silence and I lay still waiting listening as the crunch of boots on gravel gets closer.
"Hey kid" My brother's rough voice says and I mumble a greeting in return. The floor of the boxcar shifts as he pulls himself up. "Caught Dallas Winston trying to slash my tires today" Tim says casually lighting a cigarette. The glowing embers of the cigarette butt is all I can see of him in the darkness consuming the train car. "Did ya fight him" I asked.
Tim shrugged his shoulders, "Didn't feel like it, maybe tomorrow".
Then he smashed the cigarette into his boot heel. Tim sighed tiredly, "I talked to Angela" he said quietly. "Whatever she told you is bullshit" I answered hastily.
A long silence fell between us. "Don't ignore your fear, it's what keeps you alive" Tim broke the silence, "You know what the worst thing about being in prison is Curly?, It's the dead quiet when the lights go out for the night and your just lying there in total blackness with no sound, you can't hear nothing but the beat of your heart pounding in your chest, it makes you feel like-"Tim stuttered.
I looked at my brother surprised Tim never talked about his time in the cooler, I hadn't known he felt the same way about the silence as Angela and I do. "Like your suffocating" I interrupted. Tim looked at me his eyes widening, "yeah exactly".
We quit talking after that and just sat there in the darkness listening to the noises of the world around us.
The End
Authors Note: Yeah so the characters were probably pretty out of character and the ending is really bad. But this one shot was difficult to end.