Drowning In Color | ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Pulling over in front of her house, I knocked on the door so that I could check to see that she was alright. It's only then that I realized the doorbell right beside me. So I rang... And rang... Nothing happened. Guess I had to do this the hard way.

It's not easy climbing the ladder with the thought that I might just fall over and break a couple of bones. But I always seemed to pull through, so I kept going. On the rooftop, I wandered. No need to hide under cover, knowing that her parents weren't at home.

Her window wasn't locked. Good. So I could sneak inside and talk to her. I awkwardly stepped into her room. Her room, which was empty without her.

I opened the door, wondering if she could be around the house. But she wasn't, and I was nothing more than an intruder breaking into my neighbor's place. Where could she have gone though? She wasn't at the mall, and there weren't a lot of other places she would go to.

I waited. There wasn't anything much I could do at that point. I took my homework out, thinking I could finish it first. Because, why not? That's the way it had always been before her.

The words of my mother keep ringing across my mind. "You're a failure. I never wanted you two," words like that. Mostly it's at times when she's drunk. But that's her true thoughts, isn't it?

Normally, I'd try to prove her wrong. I know that she never wanted me, nor my brother. We both knew that. And yet, I always had a strong desire to prove her wrong. I had the thought that if I prove my worth in society, then someday, I'll be able to fit in. Then nothing else will matter anymore.

Of course, the journey there isn't easy. And I'm still working on it. The least I could do is keep working a job, do well in school. Whatever it takes to ease Mom's worries and burdens. I'll make sure that one day, she'll finally say that she does not regret having me.

I became the moral compass between the two of us—the one who always knew what's right and wrong. No matter how many children tease me; how many bottles were thrown at me, I learned to give up and accept that walking away is the right thing to do.

"They're gonna regret calling me a son of a bitch," I heard his voice say.

My brother, however, couldn't seem to grasp the concept of forgiveness. He preferred taking matters into his own hands and leaving the decision making to the crap of emotions he had.

"What... Mario, where did you get that?" I caught sight of the penknife in his hand. Upon hearing me, he hid it away in his sleeve.

"Where did I get what?" he feigned ignorance. But I could tell through his bluff. He had always been a compulsive liar like that. "Squeaky is cute, isn't he?" he diverted our attention to the class hamster.

I took a look at the cage with him. Sure, Squeaky was happy. But little did the poor little thing know that life isn't as cheery as it seems.

He picked it up from the cage and held it in his hand, kind of like a dog toy. I could tell that it was suffering within his grip. I tried to persuade him that it was wrong. Harming others, even a tiny little pet rodent, is wrong. I strongly urged him to put Squeaky back into its cage.

But he wouldn't listen to me. He never does.

"What the heck, Mario? W-What are you doing?" He made sure the hamster had nowhere to run. And with the penknife, which he probably stole from the art room, he plunged it through the poor fella's head. I screamed, "Dude, what the hell? This is the third hamster you killed in three months!"

He wore a blank expression on his face. Nothing, except a slight empty smile of satisfaction, and not showing any signs of sympathy for the creature.

He let out a small, silent laugh. "Don't you see, Luka? Those kids can finally get what they deserve."

As much as he was my brother, and as much as I hated those other kids, I couldn't get myself to agree with him. How can someone have this little regard for another living creature?

What luck. He dropped both the dead corpse and the penknife onto the floor. And it was then that the teacher came in, wanting to prepare early for the lesson after lunch.

"How could you, Luka? I was just trying to pat little Squeaky. But you killed him with the knife you stole..." He looked at me with fearful eyes, the kind like my own. If it weren't for the fact that I didn't do it, he would have convinced even me.

That's right. I didn't do it. I'm not an animal murderer. But even so, why couldn't I bring myself to admit the truth? The more I stared at my own reflection, the stiffer my body became, as I stood, frozen in place.

Even the teacher couldn't believe what she saw. But her shock was at the wrong person. "Luka, you need help... I'm sending you to the counselor immediately!"

The teacher grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the classroom. I wanted to protest, struggle away and tell her that all of it wasn't me. But I knew by then that that would just make me seem like a whiny little kid, one that no one would believe.

And so, here I am again.

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Here we get to know Luka's brother... And something about him doesn't seem quite right...

Have you guys ever had to take the blame for something you didn't do? Hopefully it's nothing too serious though :P