Michael Grys
"Michael, can you come help me unpack the food." Fourteen year old James shouted from the kitchen to his ten year old brother Michael. James had just come home from the grocery store.
"Coming" Michael stood up from the couch in the living room, and walked to the kitchen, but as soon as he came into the kitchen he heard their mum shout from upstairs.
"Michael, come get me another bottle of vodka." Michael sighed, bent down and without looking, picked a bottle from the cupboard under the kitchen sink. He walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He opened the door which was right in front of the top of the stairs, and walked into his mums room.
"Here you go mum." He gave the bottle to his mum, that sat in a chair in the room.
"This is the wrong bottle." She said. "Can´t you see the difference between vodka and beer? You´re useless." Mrs. Grys had stood up, and now she pushed Michael out the door. Michael stumbled down the stairs, with several loud bangs. James heard the first bang and ran out to the hallway, to find Michael unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. He squatted down next to his brother.
"Michael" James shook Michael´s shoulder. "Michael can you hear me? What have you done?" he looked up at his mum who stood on the top of the stairs. Without waiting for an answer. James stood up, ran into the kitchen, to get the phone. And he called 999.
"Hello?" he said when someone answered. "We need an ambulance, my brother just fell down the stairs."
"James?" Michael croaked, and slowly opened his eyes,
"Michael, no Michael, stay with me, please stay with me." When Michael slowly closed his eyes James started panicking.
An hour later, Michael laid in a hospital bed. James sat in a chair beside it. Somehow, he had told the paramedic everything, how their dad died, how their mum started drinking, and how he was forced to take care of Michael. And at last, how Mrs. Grys had pushed Michael down the stairs. Now he and Michael were alone in a room. Michael had got a concussion, that was why he still was unconscious. Or was he? Now he started to open again. James stood up.
"How you´re feeling bro?" he asked.
"Sick" Michael said, his skin looked a little green. James grabbed a round cup from the bedside table and helped Michael to sit up..
"Rather up than down buddy, just relax. You´ll feel loads better. " James said calmly, and stroke Michael´s back when he threw up violently in the round cup. A nurse came into the room with a man.
"I´ll take that," the nurse said, James gave her the round cup and helped Michael to lay down again.
"I´ll leave you here." The nurse said and left James and the man alone.
"Hi James." The man said. "I´m Carl, and I work at a place called Oak House."
Three weeks later
"This just doesn´t work out," Carl said. "You James, while Michael had a concussion you wouldn´t let anyone else take care of him. And afterwards you guys have been up to mischief together all the time."
"so?" James said.
"We think it would be best if we sent Michael to another care home."
"No" Michael said "I want to be with James."
The day after
"Here" James gave Michael a framed photo; they were at Michael´s new home. Stowey House. "I want you to have this. And I´ll come back for you, promise."
"Hi Michael." Two men came out to the drive way, "I´m Duke and this is Nathan." James stepped into Carl´s car, and when it started driving Michael started panicking.
"NO" he shouted and started run after the car. "I want to stay with James. I won´t be up to any mischief I promise." He kept on running until he felt Nathan hand on his arm, Nathan grabbed Michael around the chest and lifted him up. And started to walk back to Stowey House.