And So, He Stood

*Warning! There are themes of child neglect, abuse, and death. This is a grim story, viewer beware.*

There was no feeling more potent than betrayal. A boy’s safety should become an extension of himself. His sister’s safety should also become an extension of his. How powerless, than, must he have felt when he could not find that extension.

Sister had a way with words, a way of getting under everyone’s skin. She knew she was well protected and gained a great sense of joy from that knowledge. Brother did everything he could to keep her safe, coercing teachers with mild excuses or taking a punch meant for his sister.

Sister was well meaning at heart, as was Brother, but she wore malice to protect it. Brother wanted nothing more than to keep her happy and safe, despite her façade. “How long before she turns on me?” He battled these thoughts, knowing his place in her life.

Mother and Father never bothered with them, too busy with the youngest addition. Baby was amazing, how cute her smile was and how warm her laugh was. Brother extended himself yet again, promising her safety. Mother and Father never heeded this notion, an ill omen.

Mother became distraught with how Sister acted, the first time in many years she had given any of them attention. Mother held private conferences with Sister, whispering damning things to a child too young to comprehend. Father took Brother under his wing, how crooked and bent it was.

“You are to risk everything for these two, you understand?” As if his life was throw away.

 “We’ve given you everything, the least you can do is watch over these two.” As if he had asked for any of it.

“I love them father, I do! Anything they need I’ll be here for!” As if anything he said would change his position.

“There will be tough times ahead boy, times that will push all of us to our limits. You will handle these.” As if there was any room for debate.

“Anything, Father, anything.” As if any less would suffice.

Sister had changed, her face sullen. No longer did she talk out of turn or raise a commotion. She looked to Brother often, as if to say, “You didn’t do your job.” This hurt Brother to his core, but he hadn’t any clue on what had happened to her. No matter how many times he asked, Sister only ever replied, “Try to forget, it’ll be easier.” Heart a mess, Brother plastered a fake smile on and teased her, hoping to bring her back.

There were days Sister pulled through, a tug on a student’s hoodie strings or the slip of a fake farting noise, but as soon as the smile came it faded. Brother was distraught, fearing what possibly could be overcoming his sister. Depression? I’ve heard of that before; she does seem really sad. No! It was something Mother said! But what was it she said? Sister won’t tell me… I need to protect her, I nee-

“You and your sister are being placed for adoption.” Father’s stern face gave no emotion to this soul crushing sentence. A sentence so shocking, it didn’t immediately land. Brother and Sister looked shockingly at one another and back to Father.

“What does Mother think of this?” asked Brother, tearing up. He looked over to Sister, her face to the ground, eyes wide open and tears falling to the ground.

“Your Mother gave me the okay, ever since Baby was born we have had this conversation. Sister was not to act up and you were to make sure of it. The school had called us about a final disturbance from Sister, and you hadn’t the slightest idea.” Father knelt down, getting much closer to Brother’s face than any in the room found comfortable.

“You’ve failed not only your sister and I, but yourself. You should be asha-”

Brother’s hand swept across Father’s in a blaze of fury, such a young boy delivering such a powerful message.

“You mean to separate us.” Brother’s fury had dried the tears of both himself and Sister, who stood now in a state of paralysis.

Father stormed through the boy, barreling him back and to the floor.

And so, he stood.

Brother clenched his hands into a fist, a mighty sign of defiance to the giant he faced.

“You can get rid of us, but we will not leave alone. I will stay with Sister.”

Again, tumbled and crumpled into a battered puddle. His body shaking and aching, he pulled himself together.

And so, he stood.

“You will have to kill me, to take away the only purpose I’ve been given.”

Father took this literally. Grabbing the weakened Brother, he stormed him to the kitchen. Mother had been washing dishes, trying to act as if she did not hear what was happening. Baby was in her highchair, only a few feet away, now witness to what monsters she will live with.

Brother’s face became enveloped in soapy water, muffled shouts rang out above him, but he could only feel the wrath of the hand on his head. He tried to open his eyes to find something, anything, but it stung and burned his eyes too fiercely. He wrestled and fought and every bubble from his mouth popped with the last of his energy. With his vision fading, he felt the hand loosen, and fell back onto the hard kitchen floor. With fuzzy blindness, he saw Sister, knife in hand, and Father clutching his heel.

Mother was in hysterics, phone on the floor with a distinct sound of panicked talking, but in his state Brother could not understand it.

As vision cleared and Brother regained his breath, he tried to crawl to Sister, who now stood huddled in the corner. Father was on the move all the same, leaving bloodied handprints smeared behind him. Brother grabbed for his foot, and with everything he had he shoved his fingers deep into the wound. Father howled with pain and kicked violently, knocking Brother loose.

Mother clutched Baby tightly, fearful of what was transpiring. She held tighter, and tighter, and-

Brother yelled to her; it was no use.

Father now had his hands on Sister’s leg, gripping so hard he cracked his own knuckles. Sister dared not move, petrified of the situation she found herself in. Brother scurried and scampered, he fumbled and fell, but nonetheless, he stood.

He yelled to Sister, trying to jolt her back to the moment, but before he knew what he was doing, he had the knife in Father’s back.

“Hands where I can see them!”

“Put the weapon down!”

And so, he stood. He dropped the knife, not quite cognizant of what had happened. The day became a blur from then on.

Many years had passed and both Brother and Sister had spent many of those years processing that day. Mother never recovered, not from witnessing Father, and especially not from what she did to Baby.

Sister had regained her rebelliousness, found herself once again and made for an outstanding advocate for children’s neglect.

Brother remained ever the stalwart hero, always taking care of Sister and reclaiming his power, and most importantly his own self.

Wedding bells rang, and Sister made down the aisle with her loving partner in hand. She made the most beautiful vows and brought a teary eye to everyone watching. She pointed out to the crowd, faces full of those who helped her regain some normalcy. She pointed, more directly, to Brother.

And so, he stood.