My best friend's brother

A sad place called home.

Cat and Jase drove me back to my house and we said our goodbyes. I hugged Cat and Jase held his arms out wanting one as well. I leaned in and hugged him smiling. Cat leaned closer to me and whispered, "be careful please. Call if you need to, okay?"

"I will, I promise. Bye," I said with a smile. I watched them drive away and as soon as they were out of sight the smile dropped from my face. I turned and walked to my front door. My house looked nice from the outside. It's blue grey color went well with the flowers in the front garden. I was proud of the work I had done around the house. If I had a choice I wouldn't mow the grass or take care of the garden. But my parents were lazy and didn't want me around most of the time so it was a good reason to get me out.

I unlocked my door and walked in to smell the trash. I walked into the kitchen and of course the trash wasn't taken out and the dishes weren't done. I grabbed the trash bag and took it to the trash. As I was walking back my brother was standing in the doorway. "Where were you last night faggot?"

"None of your concern Deric."

"Tell me, I wanna know."

"I was with Cat and her brother."

"Oh, so I see Little Faggot got himself a fuck buddy. You're disgusting; and so is everyone like you." He pushed me out of the doorway and shut the door on me. I opened it again and walked back into the kitchen to do the dishes.

After they were done I went up my stairs to my room. It wasn't very big, but it was better than nothing. It was a mess of course. However it was because my brother trashes it often; not because of me. I shut my door and Laid on my bed waiting for my parents to give me something to do. No longer than a minute passed before my dad started yelling for me to go outside and wash the windows.

There was of course no need to wash the windows because I washed them two days ago. I grabbed the cleaner and went outside to wash them. "After you're done with that go clean the toilets and floors," my father ordered. He was my father but he was not my dad. After all the shit that he has done to me and put me through he's lucky not to be in jail. As much as I hate the man, he is my father. I have to have some amount of respect and love for him no matter how small it is. Without him I wouldn't be here. Whether that's a good thing or not I don't know, but it's fact.

I had finally finished with the chores he gave me to do so I went back to my room. I started writing stuff in the journal I kept in the floor. There was a loose piece of carpet in my room so I tore it up and put a hole in the wood so I could keep runaway money and other stuff in there. Mostly emergency stuff, but I didn't want my brother especially, to read my diary. I only wrote in it because no matter what, I could express my thoughts, Ideas, and feelings to it.

I wrote all about Jase and the moments we shared. I wrote about spin the bottle and the movies. I wrote the most about our first kiss and Iceland though. I finished up and put it back in the floor. I heard my mom yelling my name now. I sighed and walked down stairs and into the living room. The once white carpet was stained a dirt color from all the filth they had drug in and spilled on it. "What is it," I asked her.

"We're getting hungry. What are we eating?"

"It's Friday so I figured you guys were going to eat pizza."

"Did you order it?"

"No, I didn't know when you-"

"Shut up and go order it then."

"My mother had short brown hair and always wore clothes that were very revealing. I walked out of the room and went to her purse to get her credit card. I called papa johns and ordered the usual pizza that they get. Extra large thick crust with pepperoni, black olives, bacon, sausage, and green peppers. I then walked over to the pantry and got out four slices of bread, a knife, peanut butter, and jelly. I made myself two sandwiches and went upstairs to eat.

I had eaten the first one and half of the second one when the doorbell rang. I walked down the steps again and opened the door and took the pizza. I then tipped the driver. I got the slices for everyone and brought them their food. I went back upstairs and sat in the chair in front of my desk. The only reason I had the desk and the chair is because Deric had had them before and got new ones. I started drawing on pieces of paper.

I'm not an amazing drawer I think, but everyone else thinks that I could make a career out of it. I drew just a bowl of fruit on a table. I wasn't one for big pieces of art, just simple yet detailed pieces. I usually drew in color, but when I felt down or not up to it I left it in its dull grey color.

Out of the blue, Deric busts through my door holding up his phone to me. There was a picture of me and Deric holding hands while at Iceland. "Look at what Jason saw when he went skating. Little Faggot did get a fuck buddy. I bet he's just using you. He's gonna fuck you and then leave you there heartbroken and covered in his cum."

"Shut up," I yelled at him. "Shut the fuck up."  I stood up fast knocking my chair over.

"Oh, touchy, touchy," Deric said in a taunting tone of voice. Even though I had stood straight up Deric was bigger in every aspect. He was the star football player at our school. He had huge muscles and wasn't afraid to use them. He made a fist and swung. He hit me in the cheek and my head jerked to the side.

I refused to give up. I stood back up and just stared in his eyes. "Get out," I said, holding back tears. He swung again. He hit right beside my eye almost at my temple. My face was throbbing with pain but I stood back up. "Get out now."

"No, you listen here you little faggot. I'm going to give you five minutes to get the little bit of shit you have and leave. I don't want to see you again until tomorrow. No one likes you around here and no one wants to see you. If you wanted to actually be useful, you'd go hang yourself... Now go."