Chapter One

Warning: Light Mentions of depression and self-harm

One Month Later... California, U.S

The sky overhead is nearly black and stormy. Occasionally a flash of lightning or the rumble of thunder can be heard. “Mom, is everything packed in the truck yet,” I call out, looking up at the brewing storm. A small ‘yes’ resonates through the old house from the back room and I nod silently to myself. My younger sister flits by excitedly, her blonde pigtails swinging wildly behind her. “Be careful Agnes,” I shout out as she crosses the street to the truck.

            Our older brother, Alexander Jones, drags behind her, lugging his small travel case on his back. He looks no better than that night. He looks like he hadn’t slept in weeks, which is probably true. My heart breaks at the sight, knowing I can’t really do anything for him. “Hey,” I murmur softly, placing a hand on my brother’s shoulder, “this move will be good for everyone. Try to make some new friends and stuff, please? I hate seeing you like this; it isn’t healthy.”

            Alex shrugs me off, and sits down on the front steps. “I know, Mikey, I’m sorry. It’s just... so hard. I miss him,” he sighs. “It hurts. I could’ve saved him, you know? I should’ve just given the guy my watch. It seems so worthless now...” Alex sobs. He takes said watch out of his pocket and, out of pure anger and hatred, throws the thing as far as he can, into the streets. “I needed him more than the damned watch...”

“Yeah, I know it does, but hey; this isn’t your fault. None of this was your fault and he wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you putting yourself down and blaming yourself. You know that,” I reply carefully. Talking about Zane is still a very sensitive subject for him. I rub my hand up and down his back gently. “It’s okay to be sad, but it isn’t okay to let yourself deteriorate.”

“Yeah... I’ll try to get better, k,” he answers. But there’s no more light in his eyes than before. He still has the same distant look, as if he is just waiting for Zane to appear out of nowhere.

            Mom emerges from the house last, burdened with a dog crate and a small carry-on case. Overhearing the conversation, she kisses her eldest on his cheek. “He is right, sweetheart. You’re physically hurting yourself; no sleep, you barely eat, you are cooped up in your room all day, and I never hear from your friends anymore. I know it hurts, but you’ve got to try to move on, okay? I am not saying forget him; never forget him, but make new friends, go on dates, be happy again. It isn’t going to just come to you; you have to work towards it, okay? And...I also found some...bloody rags, and the blade. In your room. I threw all of them away by the way. ”

What? Self-harm? Oh my god I had no idea it was that bad. Holy s**t...

“Okay, mom; I’m sorry...” Alex pales; ashamed his mother, and now me, knows of his self-harming.

 “I am putting you in therapy when we settle in; I am worried about you. If that doesn't stop it, I will put you in rehab.” Margaret warns seriously. Alex nods, leaning into his mother’s side in a hug.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me about this, Alex? Self-harm; seriously?! You know I would’ve been there for you,” I half-shout.

“I’m sorry Mikey......”

            I shake my head in frustration. Therapy, mom, really? 

...Well, I don’t know... maybe it would be good for him...Yeah, maybe that would help. ‘Well, whatever happens, please, Please help him...’ I pray silently.

Thunder crashes overhead again as we all stare back at the now empty house. We take in the pale tan siding faded white from sunlight, at the large living room windows, the front yard overgrown with weeds and dead flowerbeds. The place is a mess, but all three kids grew up in this home; they’re going to miss it. “Alright, well, come on, the truck is ready to go,” I grunt, and wrap my arm gently around Alex’s shoulder.

            The flight to Miami, Florida was mostly uneventful. Agnes and I, having never ridden a plane, gripped tightly to my brother and mother, while Alex and mom slept through it all. The plane bounced with turbulence on two or more occasions, giving both Agnes and I little heart attacks each time. I officially decided that I hate planes.

Later...Alexander’s P.O.V

            The plane finally lands a few hours later and the younger children couldn’t be any happier. Our family of four wades through a sea of other people exiting or boarding their planes as we make out way to the luggage claim to grab our bags. As we grab their belongings we are approached by Jonathan Lands, mom’s new husband...

“Glad you guys made it safely! How was your trip,” he asks, kissing mom’s cheek.

“I will never get on a plane again,” Mike replies, still green in the cheeks. His terrified face almost brings a chuckle from my lips, but then the image of Zane, horror written across his face as he stares at the blood on his hands, flashes by.

“Me neither,” Agnes squeaks, gripping her mother’s hand. I  just shrug and Johnathan eyes me disdainfully. The two of us have never gotten along, in the last two years that Johnathan has been in our lives. Johnathan is a firm Christian believer, follows the Bible word for word, and therefore despises gays and more. He’s never been shy of telling his new family of his opinions either.

“Alexander, I heard the bad news about your,” he wrinkles his nose up in barely disguised disgust, “boyfriend. I am sorry for your loss,” he finishes with the tiniest hint of glee. It’s almost as if he is happy there is one less ‘f****t’ in the world. Margaret frowns at her husband’s tone, but says nothing; not wishing to cause an argument.

“He was my fiancé, a*****e,” I sneer. I can’t believe this man. He is a heartless b*****d and I could never see what mom saw in the guy. Then again, she’s always had s****y tastes in men.

“Watch your tone around me young man. You disrespect me like that again and there will be punishment. You can’t blame me for the death of your w***e.” Un-fricken-believable...

I’ve had enough. I dropped my bags to the ground and grab the old man by his shirt. “You are not my father. I do not like you. I just lost my entire life, half of my soul, I just left my home because of you, and you know what? I’ll blame you for everything that’s ever gone wrong in life. I’ll blame you for my s****y father, I’ll blame you for the death of Zane, I’ll f*****g blame you for the stain on my shirt. You know why? Because I hate you. I will always hate you and I am stuck with you, you are stuck with me, so f**k off. Leave me the hell alone. Pretend I don’t exist and I’ll pretend you don’t exist. How does that sound?” I shove a shocked Jonathan away from me, ignoring the onlookers gathered around.

 Johnathan acknowledges me with a small, “hmm”, brushing off his suit, before picking up the rest of the family’s bag. I fight the serious urge to turn and punch him in the throat.

            “Now, everyone, let’s try to get along, hmm? The house we’re going to, Alex, it is absolutely gorgeous. Ooh, there’s this big beautiful room down the hall from the master bedroom. There’s a gorgeous view with a large picture window. And we live so close to the beach, you can see the beach at night, and it’s so beautiful. You will absolutely love it. And kids, there are enough rooms in the house; you can all have your own! I know you hated sharing a space, eh...” Margaret prattles on and on. I try to listen, I really do, but with the s****y attitude from Jonathan, and the weight of Zane constantly dragging me down, I just zone out, seething with anger, and fighting yet again more tears. Great start to new life, huh?