HEY GUYS! 'Got a new chapter fo' ya's! in this one, gee is 17 and mikey is 15... If my calculations are correct...

By the way, the last chapter should have been in italics, so I've changed it now. Sorry if I confused anybody!

Mikey took his seat at the dinner table and reached over for the jug of juice, his hand trembling a little under the weight.

"So how was school today?"

Mikey looked up at the sound of my voice.

"It was good. How was work?"

I smile, half-heartedly. Deep down I want to tell him that it was hell- getting up at five a.m. to do a paper round, followed by another repetitive day in the comic store, stalking shelves and extra hours- but of course, I couldn't hurt him, not after everything…

I shudder and cut the thought short.

"Yeah, it was alright. You need any help with your homework tonight?"

Mikey laughs a little and shakes me away with his hand.

"You know you can't help me with homework- You're too much of a dumb-fuck!"

I guess that's what happens when you leave school at the age of eleven- you lose the ability to help your little brother with his algebra homework as what, to the average student of your own age, is a simplistic equation transforms into complex jumble of symbols and numbers and letters and god only know what else. Sometimes I regret leaving so early, but then see Mikey's smile and hear his giggle and feel his optimism, and suddenly all my worries are gone; replaced. I suddenly realise that yes, we may not be the luckiest siblings in the world, but things could have turned out so much worse- we could have been homeless, separated, maybe even dead.

I still have life in my lungs.

I don't find it fair to complain.

We sit in silence for a while- not verbal silence; the air is rich with buzzing conversation and laughter, but emotional silence, something we didn't get much of while our parents were still here. Back then, no one ever talked, but the reason nobody talked was because they were scared, terrified perhaps, so they kept their lips sealed and just got on with things.

These days we talk, but we talk because we don't feel anything- I won't let Mikey feel anything. I won't let myself feel anything. Feelings only cause pain and betrayal, so I'll live without them, thank you very much.

Feelings, like knowledge, are evil, so I promised myself that these two things, if nothing else, would be the two things I would protect Mikey from.

Because I can't let Mikey know what happened that night.

He just can't know.

He knows there's a secret alright, and he knows he needs to keep the secret that there is a secret, secret. What he doesn't know is what he's supposed to be hiding. All he knows is that we must lurk in the shadows; we must mask our identities, be ourselves a secret. He doesn't know why.

I know I'm going to have to tell him one day. God, I said I would tell him when he turned thirteen, but now his thirteenth birthday is long gone, like the autumn leaves, perished and forgotten. He must be what… fifteen now? Fuck, that's right! He's going to be an adult soon, and then I've got to tell him, or who knows what will happen.

"There's a new kid at school."

I'm woken from my trance by the unusual subject. He talks about school a lot, but the kids at school? We don't talk to people. We can't talk to people- we're lurkers.

"His name's Frank. He's pretty cool."

My brow furrows, disapproving.

"You've talked to him?"

Mikey nods, failing to see the obvious problems with his actions. "We hang about at lunch and we always sit beside each other in classes…"

My fingers drum off the wooden surface of the table. "And you think it's okay to do that?" I can feel my blood simmer in my veins.

"Yeah, I don't see why not…"

"FUCK SAKE, MIKEY!" My fist pounds against the table, sending food flying and drinks toppling. "You think I've been protecting you and working my ass off for you all these years just for you to go socialising with the first 'cool' fucker that comes along? Did you not think they might, oh I don't know, work out our secret?"

"Our secret?" Mikey spat with venom so strong it could blister and burn the skin from my face, "I don't know a fucking thing about this secret, so why the hell should I be keeping it?"

My jaw bobbed open, but before I could let a single slither of a sound escape, Mikey had rose from the table and stormed over to the kitchen door. Pausing slightly as he went to slam it shut, he cocked his head to the side, his eyes peering through his glasses, hatred rimmed.

"Oh, and by the way, I invited Frank over. He's staying tomorrow night."

And with his final words spoken, he hammered the door shut before ascending the stairs to his bedroom, most likely to sit and sulk until he fell asleep.

I let my head fall into my hands as I smothered a sob with a deep intake of oxygen. I wouldn't cry, it was just a silly argument- it meant nothing.

But it sure hurt a shit load for being nothing.

I like to imagine things like that as pinpricks- yes, it hurts at the time. It stings and nips and burns, but as soon as something more significant steps into the way, it will be forgotten and healed. Yeah, that's the best way to get through things like this.

So after clearing up the plates of half-finished food from the table, I crawl away to my layer, the one place I feel completely safe and sound. It hasn't changed much over the years- it has the same transformers bed sheets, the same mangled grey carpet, the same dingy wallpaper, peeling and curling from the damp, dark enclosure- but mainly because I don't have the money to change it.

I don't have anything, to be honest. The only reason we still have a roof o ver our heads is because our parents had paid the mortgage off before… that happened. But apart from that I have nothing. No friends, no qualifications, not even anyone who remembers me. When you just stop turning up at school at the age of eleven, you'd expect someone to notice you being missing, especially when your younger brother still attends full time education. But no, for me they barely acknowledged my absence. I mean, yeah they phoned the house a few times, but when nobody answered, they simply gave up. It just shows a lack of interest if you ask me.

So, there I lay, bathing in the glimpse of light that pushed its way through the tiny window of my basement window, simply thinking about, well, I wasn't quite sure. I wasn't really thinking, more deliberately not thinking.

Sometimes it's nice to clear your head, make a little breathing space.

But that was just another ordinary day for me.