It is October 1st and it would have been my grandma's ninetieth birthday but that will never happen. Now my family and I just start counting again this year is one. The first year without my grandma. The first year without his crazy moments of clarity from his Alzheimer's.
Since today was his birthday me, my mom, my brothers, and my aunt all load up into her van and go to see him at his grave sight. While we were driving it was really quiet. No body was talking or making a sound. It was a deafening silence and it was starting to get painful. I was desperately looking for a way to break the silence.
"Hey, Bill your feet stink," I said. The only response I got was my mom looking in the rear view mirror at me. The silence got heavier and heavier the closer we got to the graveyard. My chest was starting to become painful and it felt like my throat was closing up from the silence, trying to get away from all of the silence and the painful sorrow that was expanding rapidly throughout the vehicle. I put on my headphones looking for my exit and just let myself get lost into the world that was my mind.
It's just after midnight and I just got up to use the only bathroom in this trailer that my family lives in. at this time it is only me, my dad, and my older brother. My mom was at a friend's house for the night because she, my mom's friend, had a fight with her new husband and he left for the night to cool off. My dad is asleep on the couch with a beer in his right hand and a joint in his left. It did not look like it would be a good idea to have a joint that was lit so close to something flammable. But I didn't know what to do so I just left him and went to the bathroom.
As I was walking out I was suddenly hit on the back of the head with something large and metal. The pain was like nothing I've ever felt before not even from my older brother who likes to be a little bit rowdy. The pain was so intense that I was starting to see spots in my vision. I was hit again with the metal object but it was right between my shoulder blades. With that blown I collapsed onto the hard linoleum floor. I start to try to crawl my way to my room where I knew my older brother was still asleep. I made it to the kitchen while I was still getting beaten by that large metal object. The farther I crawled the more painful the feeling was getting. I started to lose feeling in my back and my arms I did not know if I was even moving anymore. But I tried, all I knew was that if I could get to my brother everything would stop. As the pain kept coming and coming and coming I did not know if it would ever stop so I did the only thing that I knew would protect me from this pain that I keep feeling.
"JOSH!" I screamed at the tip of my lungs over and over again until I could see him in my spotted vision. The look on his face told me that the situation was worse than I thought. His face was pale and had a look of complete and utter shock until I cried out and then it turned furious, murderous, and I could tell that he was fuming. Then he was running as fast as he could through the living room straight toward my attacker. My older brother only had his eyes set on him and getting him away from me. They collided with a loud thud. At that moment I knew that I was safe. I was able to turn around and see that my attacker was none other than my good for nothing father if he even deserved that title.
They were still fighting, after I got over my shock of seeing who my attacker was. I knew that I had to do something so I crawled as fast as I could to the telephone that was on the table in the living room. I called 911 and told them what was happening and what our address was. They told me to stay on the phone until the police showed up.
When my dad backhanded my older brother he realized what I did and came at me and hit right across my face. I felt something crack when he did. My spotty vision got worse and I could no longer see my brother but I heard the sirens that were coming, coming for the monster that was standing in front of me. He started to look panicked and was looking for an exit. I knew that he could not leave yet and that I was weakening so I did the only thing that came to mind in that stressful moment. I took the beer bottle that he left on the floor by the couch when he woke up. I picked it up and swung it at his head hitting my mark and with that I used up the rest of my strength.
I could not see anymore but I could still hear. I heard the man I call a father fall to the floor, I heard my older brother screaming for me to wake up. But the last thing that I heard was our door being kicked in and people yelling police. After that I let the darkness take me. I welcomed it.
When I started to lose my precious darkness I kept hearing my mom and my brother pleading with me to wake up. And I tried to as hard as I could but kept getting sucked down by the hand that was darkness. When I was able to beat the darkness I opened my eyes but quickly closed them because the light was too much at the moment. I felt a hand squeeze my hand and turned to find out who it was. It was my older brother who had tear stains running down his pale checks. He looked up when I squeezed his hand with a shocked look on his face. When I smiled at him he broke down crying and yelling for a nurse or doctor to come help.
The next few hours passed by in a haze of questions from nurses, doctors, and police officers who all want to know the same thing. What happened that night that was the question? So I answered all of their questions sometimes repeatedly. The only constant in those few hours was my brother who never left my side holding my hand and never letting go, squeezing it occasionally.
It turned out that I was in a coma for about a week because of all of my injuries. Either my brother or mom but usually both sat at my side during that dreadful week. When I found out from the doctor my heart swelled and began to cry and hope that I was finally loved. I learned that day that I could always; always count on my older brother if I ever needed anything.
I was brought out of my memory when a large hand squeezed my hand. I followed the arm up to the face that owned that hand and found that it was my protective older brother who just smiled sadly at me. Then he nodded out the window indicating that we were there. We got out and he never let go of my hand the entire time that we were there.