This next big event came in the form of an announcement during dinner from Carlisle, in spring the year I was going to turn 6..
“Johan, your mother and I have big news for you. You’re going to be a big brother sometime soon.”
Well, now, that certainly is some interesting news. Honestly, I thought their marriage may have gone frigid. My room is right next to theirs, and I have never once heard them fucking. I know for a fact that they had to at some point, since I exist, but you’d think I’d have heard it by now.
To be honest, I wasn’t thrilled by this news. I had 2 brothers in my past life, and I didn’t get along well with either of them.
To explain why, let me tell you a couple stories about the both of them, starting with my older brother. I remember when I started kindergarten, and the other kids were picking on me, so I asked him to help set them straight. He was only 2 years older than me, but a 7 year old should be able to handle a few 5 year olds.
He was confident enough about it. Looked me right in the eyes, and said “Of course I’ll handle it, you can count on your big bro.”
So, I introduced him to the 3 bullies who had been tormenting me. We went to the same school, so it wasn’t hard to set up a confrontation on the playground. Kindergarteners and 2nd graders didn’t have recess together, but he knew when my recess was, and all he had to do was ask to go to the nurse during class, then go the other way down the hall, and meet me on the playground.
He started off in what I’m sure he thought was an intimidating pose, with his arms raised, so his elbows were level with his shoulders, and he was cracking his knuckles in front of his collarbone. His feet were a little further than shoulder width apart, and he was standing a good 6 inches taller than me and my bullies.
“So, I hear you’ve been picking on my little brother. If you wanna do that anymore, you’ll have to go through me.” So far, so good. Everything going to plan, and I’m sure he thought they’d be pissing their pants at the thought of having to fight a 2nd grader. The ringleader of the bullies shocked him, though. He didn't even use words. He just leaned down, rushed forward, and head butted my brother right in the diaphragm. It pretty solidly knocked the wind out of him, leaving him almost doubled over, clutching his chest in pain. One of the other two took this opportunity to step behind him and kick him squarely in the balls.
Once he was on the ground, all three of them just started kicking him, over and over. It was brutal, and I had to run to get a teacher. After that, all my illusions of my invincible big bro were shattered. I started taking Karate classes after that, and eventually got the bullies to stop picking on me by fighting them off myself. I dropped the whole martial arts thing in high school, but I was still pretty handy in a fight. I’d picked up a green belt in Karate, and dabbled a bit in Judo and Muay Thai with some friends who were into MMA, but never received any “official” instruction or rank in either.
But, when I got to high school, I stopped, because I knew I had no chance as a professional fighter, and I wanted to focus on my studies, make it out of this shitty little suburban town. Then, I was gonna make it big in New York City. I think we all know how that ended up.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
My brother, on the other hand, never learned how to defend himself at all. As it happened, I wasn’t the only one with an older brother. The ringleader of the bullies had one too, and he was only a year older than my brother. Apparently, that little shit told him my brother was picking on him for no reason, and after that, he started to make my brother’s life a living hell. We argued at home constantly after that, and I’ll admit, I bullied him a bit in junior high and high school. After he graduated, he moved to California, and we never really spoke much after that. The last time we did was when I got expelled from NYU and he called to lecture me about it. I told him to go fuck himself with a cactus and hung up.
My little brother followed me into Karate, and advanced much quicker than I did. He was only a year younger than me, but by the time I was 7 and he was 6, he could kick my ass without trouble. He bullied our oldest brother even more than I did, to be honest. He also got more seriously into MMA than me, studying Judo, Muay Thai, Boxing, Jiu-Jitsu, and Krav Maga.
He was a jock in school, too. He was on both the football and track teams, and while we weren’t really friendly as kids, we did get along when thinking up schemes to fuck with our older brother.
We had a serious falling out in my senior year of high school, though. He’d been a fuckboy all through high school, banging basically the entire varsity cheerleading squad his freshman year. Then, a new girl transferred into our school, and he fell hard. She was a pretty blonde, with sparkling green eyes, and a great body.
The only monogamous relationship he’d ever had started pretty quickly, which was the only thing she’d accept, since in addition to being drop dead gorgeous, she was a fundamentalist Christian. I was fully out by this point, and everyone at school knew I was gay. So, the first and last time she came to our house, she told me she’d pray for me, and I told her she could take her prayers and shove them up her ass for all I care. Then, she said, in front of me and my parents, “In that case, you can burn in hell, you fucking faggot.”
Before I could even react, dear old dad got up, and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE AND NEVER COME BACK!”
She stood up, and ran out of the house crying, and when my brother went to chase her, my dad grabbed him by the shoulder, said, “I won’t allow you to date th-“
He didn’t get further than that, because my brother grabbed his wrist from his shoulder and fucking threw him. He then immediately started running for the door. I tried to stop him, and got a broken jaw for my trouble.
Mom called the cops, dad ended up with only a couple bruises, but I needed surgery. We didn’t press charges, and he moved in with his best friend for the rest of high school. I never spoke to him again, but I heard he married little miss bigot and joined a private military contractor not long after he graduated.
So, yeah, not the best track record with brothers. I think I’ll hope for a little sister this time.
“I hope it’s a girl. I think it’d be nice to have a little sister.”
“You say that, but I think I’d like another boy. Having a girl would be complicated for us.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, you’ve been sheltered from the aristocracy, since I have no official title, and a son from a disinherited branch of the family would have no valid claim to any title, unless he earned one from the King through service and knighthood. A daughter, on the other hand, with noble blood… I don’t expect you to understand fully, but my brothers and father would no doubt see her as a valuable bargaining chip in their schemes, and they have ways of making my life uncomfortable if I don’t go along. I’d still shelter her as much as I could, but she’d likely end up in a situation that wasn’t pleasant for her despite my efforts.”
Oh, I get it. She’d be forced into an arranged marriage. That’s a big fucking yikes. “I understand, father.”
Unfortunately for Carlisle’s hopes, several months later, Rachelle gave birth to a beautiful, bouncing baby girl. They named her Carlie, after Carlisle, and she was a bright, bubbly baby.