Disclaimer; HER, "Poor sad Double D…can I keep him and hold him and love
him and make him all better?"
Cartoon Network, "No, you can't. He's ours."
HER, "Well…how about Ed…can I at least keep him?"
Cartoon Network, "No"
"Not even Rolf?"
"Nope."
This pretty much means that no part of "Ed, Edd, N Eddy" is mine. It all belongs to Cartoon Network and its creators. I just borrowed them for this fic…I promise to put them back.
What am I going to do now? Double D stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection. It was barely noon and his day already was shot. He'd loved his brother, and would have told him so too, had he got the chance: Had he known. It was hard to believe that he was really gone. He had hardly been there to begin with. Double D only ever saw him when he was at his father's.
Double D turned around and slid down the sink until he sat on the cold floor. He suddenly felt all alone. He couldn't tell Ed and Eddy. He had always told them that he was an only child. It had seemed a lot easier at the time, and at the time it was. Then he had decided not to drag them into his troubled home life. They seemed so happy. It was better not to tell them that "Father" was really his stepfather. Better not to tell them of "Father's" painful lessons. Better not to mention his real father or his twin brother James. No. They wouldn't understand.
Why did he have to get that call? Why did he have to hear those words? Those painful words… "Edward, there's been an accident." And even worse… "Your brother James…is dead." Double D blinked back the tears that had began to form and thought again of the conversation on the phone. Pain turned to rage as he remembered the next words. "I'm sorry."
I'm sorry!
I'm sorry!
What right did that bastard have to say "I'm sorry"? Rage seethed from the youth as he thought of his father and those words. How could he say that? Where did he get off acting as though he had ever really cared about James?
Double D stood again and looked into the mirror. James had looked like that. James had been so young. Double D felt a tear slide down his cheek as he looked into his own face. He watched the tear, thinking of how his brother had always seemed so happy. He was never upset about the cards that life had dealt him. There was no regret in him about his life. No anger, no spite. James had just been happy. Double D remembered wondering how his brother had been able to deal so well with his own home life. He had only visited James and his father every summer, but he couldn't stand the place. It wasn't in the least bit James's fault. No, he just couldn't stand his father or stepmother. He couldn't stand the house. He couldn't stand the other children.
Double D thought back to when he had stayed with them. The house, if it could be called that, was filthy. There was dirt and trash everywhere. He could easily spot silverfish and cockroaches. The sight disgusted him, making him feel as though he would throw up; the smell nearly did.
It had been a warm day, so they decided to play outside. Double D and James were playing on the swings, talking and catching up. The other children played around the playground ignoring the brothers, which was fine by them. James was telling Double D about the great time he that had had fishing with his friend Matt, when their father bellowed for them to come back into the house.
"Yes," questioned James, walking into the house.
"Why the hell is the house such a mess?" Their father stumbled towards them, while gesturing at the horrible condition of the room they were in. "I thought I told you to clean up before Eileen got back home!"
The older man leaned down until he was about eye-level with the two boys, which cause him to wobble just a little bit more than before. His face came so close to their own that the beer on his breath was easily distinguishable. His eyes were glazed over in his drunkenness though they still seemed to smolder with hatred for the two children. Suddenly his hand flashed out, grabbing James by the shirt and tugging him forward. "I asked you a question boy!" He thundered, shaking James like a rag doll before tossing him aside. Their father stepped forward again, seeing Double D cringing in fear. "Let this be a lesson to you boys to respect your elders," he smirked before he commenced beating them.
Double D saw the glass in the mirror shatter a moment before he realized what had caused this reaction. Shards of glass stuck out of his fist and littered the floor or the bathroom. He stared at the blood that was now dripping from his hand and concentrated on the pain. This was probably the first time that he was thankful for blood and pain. At least he was sure that he was still alive.
Tears of sorrow and anger streamed down his pale face, leaving streaks along his cheeks. The blood on his fist didn't matter anymore. All that Double D could think of was that his brother, his friend, his confident was gone. James was gone, and he was never coming back. Double D dropped back to the bathroom floor, this time not bothering to even cushion his fall, and sobbed.
Cartoon Network, "No, you can't. He's ours."
HER, "Well…how about Ed…can I at least keep him?"
Cartoon Network, "No"
"Not even Rolf?"
"Nope."
This pretty much means that no part of "Ed, Edd, N Eddy" is mine. It all belongs to Cartoon Network and its creators. I just borrowed them for this fic…I promise to put them back.
What am I going to do now? Double D stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection. It was barely noon and his day already was shot. He'd loved his brother, and would have told him so too, had he got the chance: Had he known. It was hard to believe that he was really gone. He had hardly been there to begin with. Double D only ever saw him when he was at his father's.
Double D turned around and slid down the sink until he sat on the cold floor. He suddenly felt all alone. He couldn't tell Ed and Eddy. He had always told them that he was an only child. It had seemed a lot easier at the time, and at the time it was. Then he had decided not to drag them into his troubled home life. They seemed so happy. It was better not to tell them that "Father" was really his stepfather. Better not to tell them of "Father's" painful lessons. Better not to mention his real father or his twin brother James. No. They wouldn't understand.
Why did he have to get that call? Why did he have to hear those words? Those painful words… "Edward, there's been an accident." And even worse… "Your brother James…is dead." Double D blinked back the tears that had began to form and thought again of the conversation on the phone. Pain turned to rage as he remembered the next words. "I'm sorry."
I'm sorry!
I'm sorry!
What right did that bastard have to say "I'm sorry"? Rage seethed from the youth as he thought of his father and those words. How could he say that? Where did he get off acting as though he had ever really cared about James?
Double D stood again and looked into the mirror. James had looked like that. James had been so young. Double D felt a tear slide down his cheek as he looked into his own face. He watched the tear, thinking of how his brother had always seemed so happy. He was never upset about the cards that life had dealt him. There was no regret in him about his life. No anger, no spite. James had just been happy. Double D remembered wondering how his brother had been able to deal so well with his own home life. He had only visited James and his father every summer, but he couldn't stand the place. It wasn't in the least bit James's fault. No, he just couldn't stand his father or stepmother. He couldn't stand the house. He couldn't stand the other children.
Double D thought back to when he had stayed with them. The house, if it could be called that, was filthy. There was dirt and trash everywhere. He could easily spot silverfish and cockroaches. The sight disgusted him, making him feel as though he would throw up; the smell nearly did.
It had been a warm day, so they decided to play outside. Double D and James were playing on the swings, talking and catching up. The other children played around the playground ignoring the brothers, which was fine by them. James was telling Double D about the great time he that had had fishing with his friend Matt, when their father bellowed for them to come back into the house.
"Yes," questioned James, walking into the house.
"Why the hell is the house such a mess?" Their father stumbled towards them, while gesturing at the horrible condition of the room they were in. "I thought I told you to clean up before Eileen got back home!"
The older man leaned down until he was about eye-level with the two boys, which cause him to wobble just a little bit more than before. His face came so close to their own that the beer on his breath was easily distinguishable. His eyes were glazed over in his drunkenness though they still seemed to smolder with hatred for the two children. Suddenly his hand flashed out, grabbing James by the shirt and tugging him forward. "I asked you a question boy!" He thundered, shaking James like a rag doll before tossing him aside. Their father stepped forward again, seeing Double D cringing in fear. "Let this be a lesson to you boys to respect your elders," he smirked before he commenced beating them.
Double D saw the glass in the mirror shatter a moment before he realized what had caused this reaction. Shards of glass stuck out of his fist and littered the floor or the bathroom. He stared at the blood that was now dripping from his hand and concentrated on the pain. This was probably the first time that he was thankful for blood and pain. At least he was sure that he was still alive.
Tears of sorrow and anger streamed down his pale face, leaving streaks along his cheeks. The blood on his fist didn't matter anymore. All that Double D could think of was that his brother, his friend, his confident was gone. James was gone, and he was never coming back. Double D dropped back to the bathroom floor, this time not bothering to even cushion his fall, and sobbed.