Chapter 7: The True Story

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CONTENT WARNING

This chapter contains violent and mature themes and a lot of profanity that may not be suitable for a very young audience.

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When Danilo came home at five in the morning, his brother Marko opened the door and let him inside while their mother was still asleep. He went straight to his room without saying a word.

Sleep came easy but light and short. And when his alarm rang at seven, he snoozed three or four times before finally pushing himself out of bed.

He exited his room, ready for his mother's nagging, but only his brother was waiting for him in the living room.

"Where's Ma?" he asked.

His brother looked up from his coffee. "She went out to the market. Sit down." He gestured at an armchair opposite him.

Danilo complied. "Can I at least bathe before you kick me out again?"

"No one is kicking you out," Marko said, placing his mug on the coffee table. "At least not until Ma gets back. But we need to talk."

Danilo leaned back on the chair, tired. "About what?"

"You're getting worse, Danilo." His brother gestured at him. "Ma is always angry at you for drinking all the time."

"She doesn't understand me." Shaking his head, Danilo turned his face, ashamed to look into his brother's eyes. "None of you understands me."

"Then help us understand. Just talk to us. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing is going on with me. This is just who I am. You just can't accept that."

Marko pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "This is not who you are, Danilo."

"You don't know who I am."

"I know you. You are my little brother. You don't used to be like this when Pa was alive. You've been spiraling down since then, and you're getting harder to control," Marko said.

"And why are you trying to control me?" Danilo's voice rose, angry. It was precisely what he felt. Everyone around him was restrictive. They couldn't just let him be and let him live his life. So, what if he was a drunk? So, what if he was always out at night?

"That's not--" Marko paused. "Let me try again." He raised his hand at Danilo, gesturing for him to stay calm. "I know you're still mourning Pa's death."

"Fuck you!"

"Danilo!" Marko warned.

"No! Fuck you, Marko!" He pointed a furious finger at his brother. "You're acting like Pa didn't die, like it meant nothing to you. You, Ma, Carlos, and Camila. You're all the same."

"Pa did die!" Marko matched the tone of his voice. "I mourned him too, but it shouldn't be this way. It's been seven years. You need to find a way to move on."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Danilo got up from his seat.

"Danilo, I'm still talking to you." Marko stood, but Danilo ignored him.

"We're done," he said as he marched back into his room, slamming the door shut and sinking back into his bed.

His brother hadn't gone after him despite muttering that Danilo was stubborn and their mother was right.

Danilo waited for his brother to leave for work before he came back out. He hurriedly sneaked into the bathroom to wash up and got a cup of three-in-one coffee after. He packed some clothes in a bag, planning to sleep somewhere else--anywhere else but in this house with his family.

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