10: Walter
At first I didn't wanna talk about this. I really didn't, I was more than happy with not ever mentioning him ever. Then a couple people told me that it might help, it might be useful, it might be healthy. So, fuck it. Whatever.
Walter. He's my older brother, second oldest in a batch of four. William is the oldest, then Walter, then Wendy, then me, Wolf. While I was running around on Papetoon trying to figure things out, he and I crossed paths. I was at a fuel station in this pretty big town, called Graceville. It was a tourist town, built around this picturesque oasis. Shiny town, well-armed and well-financed police force, seemed clean, certainly a very civilized place. Anyway, at first I had no fucking why he was on this godforsaken ball of rock spinning in space. Fortunately for me, he told me. Said he was looking for me.
Hold up: how the fuck did he know where to look for me anyway? Told me that he couldn't find me anywhere on Corneria when the ships came back, so he retraced my footsteps. First what I was doing on Eladard, said that he was using his journalist thing to fake his way around and shit. Yeah he was working as like a rookie journalist for NNC, News Network for Corneria, but he was only there for like a year or two when I left so I dunno if his bosses really would've been down with what he was doing had he told them. Anyway, he said he spent a few weeks romping around Eladard, picking up clues as to where I was. When he found out I left the planet (duh) he followed me off-world, and eventually landed on Papetoon. Everyone around told him to steer clear of Papetoon, that it was outside Cornerian influence. Of course he didn't listen, otherwise he wouldn't be fucking standing in front of me, right?
Told me he had one crazy adventure on Papetoon, encountering all sorts of colorful characters. Didn't care much for what he said, don't really remember anyway. But he did say he nearly died a few times trying to reach me. I didn't quite know what to feel at that moment. Because… he's my brother of course… but I don't exactly have a good standing with my family, you know. So… would I have really batted an eye if he got shot trying to find me? I dunno. I don't think so. Probably not. Although… it would probably feel weird, yeah. I mean, I was the cause of his death, but I didn't directly kill him myself, you know? It's like that, that kind of weird.
So, I'm standing next to my bike, refueling its cores, and he's right in front of me, wearing this plain t-shirt with tan cargo pants and boots. He looked pretty fine, didn't seem beat up or anything, pretty positive too. Looked at him and thought that he wasn't on-world long. Then he told me that he just got here a few days ago. Clearly. Didn't even see a piece on him anywhere, so he certainly hasn't been here for more than a week. He said that everyone was worried about me. Concerned for my safety. Mom thought I got killed on Eladard. Then he told me that grandma passed away. I felt… something towards that news. Like… I guess I felt regret or something. Yeah, I guess that was it. Regret. Because I didn't really have a lot of patience for grandma, she always was stubborn and asking for help and being real slow. I think that… I think that I would've liked to have seen her before she died. Tried to make sure she knew that deep down I cared for her. Probably the biggest thing about all this was I think that she didn't know that and she thought I was just this problem kid who ran away. Well, she's not wrong but… I would've liked to tell her that I didn't want to hurt her. Too late now, I guess.
Anyway, umm… Oh yeah. Walter. Yeah, he went on about how my family was concerned for my safety and how they just wanted to know if I was alright or not. I mean, you know, just fuck 'em man. 'Cept for grandma. But yeah, fuck 'em. They never fucking cared for me, how I felt. Oh they might say bullshit like how they fed me, gave me a home, clothed me, shit like that, but there's other shit they shot down. They didn't care about what I wanted to do as a kid, they didn't care about what I wanted to be when I grew up, and they didn't care what the fuck I said for any fucking reason. They just didn't. Nobody cared. Nobody! Nobody ever cared about me when I was growing up, what I thought, what I felt. They just pushed me towards whatever direction they wanted to push me into and when I gave them pushback they lost their fucking minds like I was the fucking devil or something.
Nobody gives a shit about me, so why should I give a shit about anyone else? The only person around who gives a shit about Wolf O'Donnell is Wolf O'Donnell. I gotta put me first, because most certainly ain't nobody goddamn else is putting me at the front of their minds. Gotta take care of myself before anyone else, and you know what? I don't have any fucking time to care about anyone else. May sound selfish, Hell, probably is, but I don't give a fuck because like I said before, nobody's looking out for me. Nobody's giving me a fucking handout, nobody's showing me some sort of cheesy path or opening fucking doors or anything like that. I have to do it all myself. I have to take care of myself. And if you get in my fucking way doing that, I will goddamn kill you. I'll take the blaster on my hip out and blow you fucking away because ain't nobody gets between Wolf O'Donnell and what he needs to get done. There's only one person in the Universe that cares about me, and that's me.
Sorry… I… I went on a tangent. Anyway, we were on Walter O'Donnell. God, it's a pain even recognizing that he and I are related. So he's just standing there lecturing on family and shit, and I'm staring at him quietly. And when he stops, I tell him that I don't give a fuck about whatever bullshit he just said and that his whole trip was a waste of time. Wanted to walk away, but didn't want to leave my bike unattended, and it was still fueling up its cores. Still Walter tried to get me over to his side. Wouldn't happen, though. Oh, he must've stood there for an hour trying to convince me, but nope. Nothing. It was like talking to a fucking wall… for him. For me it was like some sort of fly buzzing in my ear. Couldn't swat him away, but he was not gonna leave on his own. Had half a mind to shoot him right then and there, but remember, I'm in a pretty town with a shiny, well-paid police force. Wasn't gonna end well for me, that's for sure.
Finally persuaded Walter to walk the fuck away, which he did. His ears drooped down, an obvious sign he was saddened. Didn't fucking care, still don't. Just happy that he left me alone for once in his stupid life. Told him if we ever crossed paths again I'd really shoot him. He frowned as he turned around and walked away. I was being honest, and I'm honest about that to this day. He and I haven't crossed paths since, but if I did meet him face-to-face, right now as I recount this, even, I'd shoot him. I'd shoot him dead. Walter is like everyone else, like William, like Wendy, like all of 'em. They only cared about what they wanted me to be, not about me. Now I've got a new family, one who actually listens to what I have to say. One who actually cares about what I say, what I think. They're leagues better than the one I was born into, and leagues better than the one I found after that.
Would I ever go back home? Hmm… no, probably not. The good memories are outnumbered by the bad, so they might as well not exist. Besides… not like I can go back anyway. Least without getting cuffs slapped around my wrists beforehand.
I'm done talking about this.