"You wither and you rot and you turn into dust",
it's sad, it's true, it's life, your father grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you
and he shouts words you don't want to hear because you're young and you're scared,
but he doesn't want to hear you either
so he screams louder and it's all making your head hurt
a little bit.
Your brother is watching TV, something pointless and mind-numbing
and he's hugging a pillow to his chest
and he's tired and his eyes are dark
and he doesn't deserve to hear any of this.
Frankly, he doesn't deserve any of this,
like he doesn't deserve the motel room life
and the white sheets when there should be space ships and dogs and
the cereal-for-lunch-life and
he doesn't deserve someone like you to be his brother.
(Your father's words, not yours. Though nowadays they feel like they could be yours.)
He's six and you're ten and he's
looking at you like you're the stars and the moon and
he tells you he loves you and
it terrifies you because you're not sure what it feels like to be loved
though a rational part of you tells you that
you must have been loved, somewhere along the way,
but the way your dad says "disappoint" -
it's like it's a word saved just for you.
He's not a bad father,
not really,
not like the fathers you see on TV,
the ones who hit their children and let them die silently
but he's not a good father either;
the way he slams you into walls and shouts and smells like alcohol
how he's gone just a little too long a little too far away
and he makes you scared and he keeps telling you to behave and you try so hard
but it's not enough and
Sam grabs your hand and looks up to you and it feels like the weight of the world
is resting on your shoulders.
See, there are no angels. There's no good in this world, only pain and tears and bruises
and you know he's trying to fight his demons
and you're trying to fight yours but
somedays you're just too tired and he rests his head on your shoulder as you read aloud
and it makes you a little bit sad to read fairytales like this to Sam because
they're just little tales of nothing but bittersweet lies.