Can We Be? ✅

(Intro) - Holden's Nightmare

My indisposed baby-faced brother clings onto my right shoulder blade as if it was an appliance that balanced him on the edge of eternity. "AARRGGHH!" He severely discharged himself to the ground.

I remove my camouflaged jacket immediately and rushing to my knees, I fearfully scream, "Joeee!"

I watch as my brother's dismayed eyeballs search for comfort. The blood in his artery pace through to the surface of his face while his stomach gives up the stew that was forced down earlier this morning. He vomits a little on my left wrist as I continue to use my left hand to unzip the emergency bag and my right hand to comfort his head beside me. I watch his pupils transparently emerge, feeling him tensing all his major muscles in physical agony.

To my heart-racing surprise, I decide to rip his heavy, buttoned jacket into two halves, only coming across a breathtaking amount of blood, lost from his pelvis area. "Stay with me bro, listen... You're going to be fine, I promise." My not-so-patient lips quiver in fear.

"Holll...den!" He cries out, as I watch him gasp for air in excruciation. "I can't breathe! I can't..."

I feel two strong grips on both my shoulders, "Holden! Let's move!" Lieutenant Akim pulls me away in distress.

"No, I'm not going anywhere!" I fight back, clinching, kicking and pushing.

"Holden, let's go right now!" Lieutenant Akim forcefully pulls me away as bullets evade our area, only a few meters away from the incidence.

Taking another glance back at Joe, allowed me to take a glimpse of the immeasurable, monstrous machine that was preparing to swallow us whole. I carried my legs at an abnormal speed, carrying my heavy stomach and mind also. I can't bear the image of my childhood gift - Joseph Harris - as he integrated with the mud that spread over him while the opposition bombarded our territory in their tanks and helicopters.

The first teardrop that crawled down the surface of my cheek, resembled the first time I heard the sound of 'Holden' escape the 10 month-old genius, who called out my name during another one of our notorious diaper execution.

I am pulled away by a few other soldiers who are returning back to the base in fright, giving the impression that there's an emergency. I supposed plan 'a' and plan 'b' must have failed. Again.

His bright, bold, brown eyes gave me hope. But now, those very hopeful eyes took back the same hope it freely gave me.

-

"Mr Harris, is everything okay?" The man sorrowly wondered.

"I'm fine," I silently replied with my profoundly deep voice, after mentally being dragged back into this dead-end of a conversation.

"Did I... Say something wrong perhaps?" He asked politely, crossing his legs shortly after.

"Edmond, I said I'm fine," I repeated myself, followed by my provoking stare.

Edmond wandered his eyes around the pocket-sized office we shared every Thursday, praying to the gods that he'd not come in contact with my fierce, emotionless green eyes.

"Okay, I think we're more or less done here. Or is there anything else you would like to share?" He swallowed his saliva a split second after his proposition.

Without assembling a response from me, he added, "well you know you can always call me Mr Harris?" He leaned on his desk toward me to hearten my mood.

I shut my eyes for a moment and I sighed, the sigh that approved you of my anguish. "Sure," I stood, grabbing my cup of coffee off of the desk table and loudly slurping down the last few drops. Coffee was my way of getting through the day, especially Thursdays.

Leaving the building was my least favourite part of the day. Edmond thought I disliked therapy but the reality was, I disliked my life in general, a whole lot more. I would cross the road every day hoping that a maniac in a sports car from one of the many action movies I admired, would tattoo my blood on the sidewalk. But who am I to rush fate?

"Mr Harris, how are you doing today?" The lady in the lobby, approached me as I stepped out of the elevator like she usually did every other week.

"Goodbye, Amanda." I expanded my umbrella from my side while the rain heavily descended.

"Tokyo at it's finest, isn't it?" Amanda sarcastically asked before I stepped out.

I gave her a slight grin, with a respectful nod to indicate how much I appreciated her efforts.

Once I got into my vehicle, after an umbrella battle with the wind, I began to sob. Even though I held everything back during my therapy session, I cried over and over once I was outside the perimeter of other people's judgement. I mourned until a migraine hijacked my temple of creativity. If only Joseph Harris could finally see his older brother cry.