OK lets face it. I am a monkey, who thinks itself a fox, who has a keyboard. So here's the scientifically proven bad results.
Please leave a comment or rating if you like what you see. And if you see a mistake PM me and i'll take care of it.
ENJOY
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SS: 16 years ago...
Everything was blurry and cold. The last thing i remember was my brother pushing me out of a window into the harbor below as the building exploded burying everything and everyone inside under a ton of rubble.
‘No...Ash No!’
I bolted upright! I was in bed, in my apartment in New York. It had been almost 6 months since the night of the attack and i still was having these nightmares. The therapist said that they would fade with time but here i am 6 months later still having those same dreams. In terms of work, i was doing surprisingly well. The company had paid for my medical bills, posted police at my hospital room and home just in case and said that my project would be put into production and deployed within a year in afghanistan, but emotionally i was a wreck. Every night it was the same scene over and over again. I was offered sleeping pills but i refused. They only made the nightmares last longer.
The funeral was tough but in the end i settled for a private burial instead of a public service. Many would have attended but none sincere. All everyone ever wants is me and i wasn’t about to let them ruin his funeral with their false sentiment and favour currying. Even while mourning people come.
I got up and went to the kitchen to grab a drink. TV dinner trays and takeout boxes cluttered the counters and filled the garbage bins. Ash had always been the one making the meals and cleaning up after me. He always somehow knew what meal i wanted that day or were i had put a certain research paper. He was always getting into trouble at school since a young age and ended up coming home to an empty apartment to fend for himself until i got home that night or even if i did come home that night. They said he was just having an early rebellious stage but even when he turned 17 he still showed no talent and continued his self destructive behavior.
I didn’t care for whatever reason the people around me gave. He was my only family and when we lost our parents i swore i would take care of him forever. Everyone always compares us despite my complaints and said that he was only weighing me down and that or that it was a pity that i had gotten all the good genes. I knew he wasn’t dumb or stupid, well maybe a little stupid. I fondly remember the time he decided to make an AK-47 in our backyard. The Police wanted to arrest him for but i persuaded them just to confiscate it.
Nowadays, i find i appreciated his trouble making side more than i realized at the time. It’s been 6 months and in the last month alone i have gotten more invitations to some restaurant or event than i care to count so they sit in a discarded pile in the corner of my bedroom. Secretly, outside of work i am terribly scared of men.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
16 years ago, back when i was 5 years old and Ash was 2, we lived in a foster home that was particularly bad. There were 3 other teenagers living with us and one day when our foster parents were out the boys got the idea to throw a party.
The house was soon filled with teenagers and one of them brought a cooler full of beer. I had taken Ash upstairs and put him to bed before getting ready for bed myself. Sometime during the night i heard the bedroom door banged open. The door had no lock but i had braced it with a chair. I heard the sound of some some stumbling around in the dark and finally collapsed on the foot of my bed.
My heart pounded. Whoever it was seemed to find out that the bed he was currently in was occupied and ripped the covers back.
“Well looky here, what's a girl like you doing all alone on a night like this.” he said obvious drunk.
He pulled me up roughly and threw his arm around me. I tried to struggle out of his embrace but he was too strong. I bit him and he let go threw me off him to the ground. I tasted blood but not mine.
“You little bitch! Cmere!”
He grabbed my arm and jumped on top of me. He started ripping at my PJ's and pulled at my panties. I struggled even harder, biting, scratching and screaming for him to let go. Suddenly sirens could be heard and red and blue lights lit up the windows of the room. Downstairs running and yelling could be heard.
“Shit!” the drunkard shouted.
He ran out of the room and down the stairs trying to get away.
I hastily grabbed my little brother and ran to the bathroom and locked the door. Thanks to all the noise Ash woke up and i found my PJ’s in shreds with buttons broken off and the shorts ripped in two. I never told anyone about that night, the police had found us in the bathroom and i made some excuses and told them i had locked us in here when the party started. The boys who had started the party of course were put back into the system and i never saw them again. In later years i began to understand what the drunken man was going to do and became even more scared of men.
When Ash grew up and i became so successful, he chased away any men that had tried to get close to me and gave me a sense of peace. In turn i took care of him and stood up for him whenever someone tried to say something bad about him and made excuses for him whenever he got into a fight. But now...now i don’t know what to do. If Ash was here he would have set fire to those invitations or declined the phone calls the moment they came in. Me, i just can't...
Without him i’m struggling.