Rough Road Ahead (In Progress)

Chapter 8

            "I know, but he didn't mean to." I said, sitting on the bed and motioning for him to sit beside me.

            "Why are you defending him?" Sam questioned, not taking the seat offered.

            I sighed, "I don't know." I said truthfully. There wasn't any reason for me to protect him, and yet I felt like it was somehow my job. Maybe it was sisterly-instinct.

            "Well I know what to do - give him a hard taste of his own medicine." Sam said grinning "beat him senseless. Then he'll know his place."

            My eyes widened - I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "Sam..." my voice trailed off, "come on, babe. This isn't you." He wasn't vengeful like this, I knew him. I grabbed his arm, but he pulled away.

            "Iris - in all the time I have known you all you have said about your brother is that he is a dick that makes you feel like crap since you were born. I want to put him in his place so he leaves you alone." He sounded so sure of himself, as if he knew me better than I knew myself. He was wrong, however. I didn't feel as resentful towards my brother as Sam thought.

            "No." I said shaking my head, "you aren't going to lay a finger on him." I said, standing up and walking towards Sam.

            "I can't believe I am hearing this." Sam laughed, opening the door to the bedroom shaking his head, "whatever you say, boss." He rolled his eyes, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. I was alone, yet again.

This family trip was pulling this family apart, bit by bit.

            "We're in the home stretch, guys." My dad called from the front seat and I could have sworn I heard him whisper, "Finally." Under his breath, but I couldn't blame him. All I wanted was to go home to my hello kitty stuffed animals and my pink colored bedroom. I wanted to forget about this trip.

                                                              ****

            My dad was driving up the mountain and it was causing me to feel car-sick so I sat in the washroom with my head over the sink. With each bump I felt my insides move; my eyes were watering with the effort it took to dry-heave. My stomach hurt from clenching and then releasing repeatedly.

            Sam didn't even ask if I was alright, and that hurt. Brad was sitting in the bedroom throwing a ball into the air over and over again, bouncing it off the roof monotonously. I was just starting to get used to the five second intervals, but suddenly it stopped and there he stood next to the door, "how ya doing?" He asked, and for a split second I felt like him and I were brother and sister, but I didn't put too much stock in it lasting long. I was going to enjoy it while I could.

            "Yeah." I heaved and Brad walked in, kneeling beside me and putting his red ball onto the top of the sink grabbing the back of my hair, holding it out of my face while I heaved and heaved into the sink.

            "Want some gravel?" He asked, his raven black hair shimmering in the harsh bathroom light.

            "Please." I said in between gasps.

            He got up, walking away and then came back a minute later with a glass of water and a small yellow pill. He lifted my head, putting the pill in my mouth as if I was too sick to do it, "swallow," he instructed while putting the water to my lips and letting me take a small sip.