Again, the line break signifies narrator change.
Thoughtless, breaking people's spirits - Rhyme
I try to turn up the volume on my music player to drown out their arguing, but it's already at the brink of eardrum-bursting loud. If I end up deaf by age 30, I'm blaming them.
"Get off my case…it's none a your business, aight!"
"Don't talk to me like that, Daisukenojo! I'm still your father!"
"DAD! Don't call me that!"
"I'll call you whatever I want…"
Of course, that isn't exactly what came out of their mouths. When Daddy gets mad, he swears. When he gets angry at Beat, nearly every other word is a cuss word. Beat reciprocates, almost putting Daddy to shame, which results in a "Don't use that kind of language with me, young man!" Kids only learn from example though, right.
The door cracks open and Mom walks in, though she almost walks out when she hears the arguing. I look at her with pleading eyes, begging her silently to get them to stop. Mom's the voice of reason in the house, though Beat swears I'm "more smarter" than her in resolving conflict; I just don't like to get involved.
"What's going on in here?" my mom asks, walking into the kitchen.
"Your son came home with a notice from school today. Apparently, he's failing nearly every class!"
"Beat, is that true?"
Beat just looks at the floor, his fist clenched. It hurts me to see him like this, so hurt and embarrassed, with my parents looking at him like he's under a microscope.
"Says here that if this keeps up, they're going to expel him. Do you know what kind of hoops we jump through for you and Raimu to go to that school?! Why can't you be more like your sister, Daisukenojo?"
I close my eyes; Dad, with his thoughtlessness, just poured gas onto the fire.
"I ain't her, aight! I ain't ever gonna be! If you like Rhyme so much better, maybe it'd be better if I just left!"
"Maybe it would," my dad snarls back. My mouth drop in shock; Mom's as well. Beat looks taken aback.
"Fine," he mutters. He starts towards the door. As he passes me, I notice his eyes are wet.
"Don't come back until you're ready to make something of yourself!" Really, Dad, just shut up already.
I'm afraid the door will come off the hinges as Beat tears it open. "I HATE YOU!" he screams and slams the door hard enough that its glass window shatters.
I can feel my own temper flaring. "How dare you…" I mutter after many silent moments.
"What was that?" my dad growls.
"HOW DARE YOU!" I stand to my feet, throwing my school work aside. Mom gives me warning with her eyes, but I pay no heed. "How dare you talk to him like that! He's your son…"
"He's worthless…"
"NO, HE'S NOT!" Dad's in shock now as well as Mom; I never talk back to them. "You don't know how fortunate you are to have him. Beat is a wonderful person, and if you took the time to get to know him, and would just stop criticizing everything he does, you'd realize it."
"Now, young lady…"
"SHUT UP! I'M NOT DONE YET!" I have to admit, I'm surprised I'm being so bold. But no one, not even my parents, are going to get away with messing with me brother. "I'm going to go and do some damage control…you'd better have an apology ready for your son when we get back." I storm off upstairs, grab Beat's skateboard (I'm thankful he keeps it in his room; it means he usually forgets it when one of these arguments starts), and head out the door.
I look to our neighbor for directions; they point off towards the Underpass. Beat likes to go there because it's good for boarding. I say a quick thank you and ride towards the Underpass. I'm not as good at boarding as Beat, but I can at least get from point A to point B. It's never really held any allure to me, but I can't really knock it off my list of possibilities. One of the most frustrating parts of growing up is that people tell you to dream big. But what happens when you have so many dreams, you have no idea what to do? Don't get me wrong, I love that I have so many options open to me: having a dream is important, a plan for yourself in the future. That's why I want to help Beat find one for himself. He thinks so little of himself, that he feels he isn't worth it.
When I get the Underpass, I skid to a stop. Beat is off, cussing under his breath, kicking a stray can around.
"Beat," I call out. He looks up, then wipes his face. He's been crying.
"Rhyme? Whatcha doin' here?"
"I thought you might want this." I step on the edge of the deck, flipping the board, but it ends up falling to the ground before I can grab it.
"Thanks Rhyme," he says, sort of smiling. He takes the board and begins to idly mess around on it.
"You know," I say, rocking back on my heels, "you and Dad really need to talk. Talk it out…find a solution."
Beat scoffs. "Nah, Dad's too thick skulled fur that. It's his way or no way; you know that."
"Beat, please…for my sake, just talk to him."
"I've tried Rhyme! They just don't get it. I ain't perfect like you…won't ever be. They just don't get it!"
"Beat, I'm not…"
"But you are, Rhyme. You don't ever get bad grades, everyone likes you…face it, you're the poser child for success…and I'm your idiot brother."
"Beat…"
He lowers his head; he looks like a beaten dog. "Just stop, aight. I wanna be alone." He skates off across the road.
"Beat, I'm sorry." I say, running after him, stopping in the road. "I'm sorry that they compare us…I'm sorry I've let them hurt you. Please, don't leave."
He looks back, his eyes wet, matching my own.
The horn blared off to my side. The scream of breaks fills my ears as I watch the car come towards me. I barely make out Beat scream by name as the world slows to a crawl. I feel the full force of his body slam into mine, the force of the car as it hits us, my skull slamming against the ground, the world going dark.
Sirens wail in the background as we get the little girl onto the gurney. The police are taking the driver's statement while one officer struggles to contact the kid's family. The boy's skateboard had an address and phone number, but from what I can gather, no one's picking up.
With the girl on board, most of the EMTs go to secure the boy. I look the girl over: other than the massive breakage of her skull, blunt force trauma from hitting the ground, she bares no other signs of injury. The boy however, it's a miracle he's still alive: broken shoulder, arms, ribs, hip, and femur; punctured lungs; internal bleeding as well as possible bleeding in the brain. As they loaded him onto the ambulance, his hazy eyes try to focus and end up falling on the girl.
"Rhyme?" he struggles to say, as he attempts to reach for her.
I take his hand in mine as the team hooks him up to the heart monitor. "She's gone, buddy," I say after they hook him up, in fear of his reaction.
A look of anguish comes over him. "No…" He looks past me to the little girl. "I'm so sorry." He lays his head down and his pulse starts to plummet.
"We're losing him," someone shouts. He's giving up.
I reach deep into my pocket. A second chance…that's what she'd told me. Giving them to the dead or dying gave them a second chance. I look at the both of them…so young, so much life that stolen from them. I sneak one pin onto the boy, then turn to the girl.
"Don't waste this," I whisper as I place the pin in her hand and fold her fingers around it.
Sorry for not updating in so long. I'm going to try and update weekly for this story.
Let me know what you think. Thanks.
