The story of Malo

This is the story of Malo and his life. He is the second main character. This is suppose to be the second part of the book.

It was a snowy, cold day in September. I was stuck listening to the most boring lecture, when I could have been outside with my friends. I was the only one who had to listen to that lecture too. What did I do that was so wrong?
“Are you listening mister March?” My strict, upset teacher gawked over my shoulder awakening me from my deep daydream.
“This is why you’re failing school!” Her monstrous screeching faded. I didn’t care about school. My family didn’t really seem to care either. They only cared about my little brother, Sona. Why was he so special? They were almost never at home, and when I asked them where they went, they would always ignore my question. My brother and I use to have a great relationship. I always use to think it was my fault that he stopped talking to me. Maybe I wasn’t being a good brother.
“Mister March!” The teacher slammed her hands on the desk.
“I swear you just can’t be helped!” She put her hand up to her forehead and sighed. I sat there for a good hour before I was allowed to pack up and head home. I walked out from the school. Children’s foot prints were packed tightly into the snow. I stepped into those in order to not harm the perfectly, fresh snow. I was able to do this all the way until I reached the street I lived on. The street I lived one was considered shabby to most of the other streets. The houses were almost at the point of falling. The street lights were shattered and barley worked. The twitched every 3 minutes and the nights were almost always pitch black. I ran home from that point. The front door was leaning too far to the left and it took most of my strength to rip open the door that had been frozen shut. The ice shattered and made a large cracking sound, the same sound bones make when the break. It was very unpleasant.
“Hello?” I yelled into the semi-dark house. No answered me. I assumed they were all gone somewhere, having fun, and spending money we don’t have. I walked up the slowly rotting stairs to my room. I shared it with my little brother. He takes up much more than half the room. My parents say he deserves more of the room than I do. His side is covered with expensive toys, a wool blanket, and several other things that I don’t have. The only thing I own is a bed and some clothes to keep the cold off of me. Why do they love him more? He doesn’t have any special talents or skills. Why is he so much better than I am? I lay quietly on my bed staring up at the blank, wooden ceiling.
“I wish there was a place where I could feel important.” I sighed. At that point, the front door swung wide open. My parents must be home. If they are home, so is Sona. He may be my brother, but I despise him. He is an attention seeker. I am a human being too! I also need attention. My parents treat me like the toad of society. While I was deep in thought, Sona entered the room. He was wearing a newly knitted hat; it was just a bit too big for him. He also had a new bright red sweater; the glow of the red from the sweater could be seen on his face.
“Malo, look what I got!” Son opened up a new brown, fake leather salute and pulled out a small wooden horse with a string attached to it.
“Mom got you another toy?” I said annoyed.
“I'm not sure how to use it though. Can you help me?” Sona held the horse out to me. I knocked it way.
“I can't I have a lot of homework to do.” I grouched. Sona pouted, and then smiled.
“Mom! Malo isn't playing with me!” Sona tattled.
“Malo, you better play with your little brother if you want dinner!” Mother yelled from the kitchen. Why did Sona get everything he wanted? Why did I have to suffer? Sona, then, dragged me to his side of the room.
“OK so how does this work?” Sona put down the horse. I sighed. There was no way I was going to be able to get out of this.
“Take the string and pull it as you walk. It will follow you.” I demonstrated.
“That's so cool!” Sona got up and tried it too.
“It’s almost as if it’s a real horse!” Sona smiled. It was the second time I smiled at my little brother; the first was when he was born. Sona smiled again in response to my smile.
'Maybe I should give Sona another chance.' I thought. Mother called us down for dinner, finally.
“Sona, did Malo play with you?” Mother asked him before we sat down.
“Yes, of course! He showed me how it worked and I really want to hang out with him more.” Sona jumped up and down. Mother caught a hold of his shoulders and calmed him down.
“OK, Malo you may have dinner. Sona, Malo will hang out with you more often.” Mother flashed a smile and Sona and an evil glare at me. I glared back and she put up her hand to swat at me. Sona looked up at us.
”Is everything OK?” Sona asked.
“Of course, it is my sweet Sona.” Mother pat Sona on the head. Mother sat down next to Sona. I sat across from Sona. Father then came in and sat across from mother. The four of us managed to sit at a small, wooden, roughly made, oak table. Mother had set the table prior to us sitting sown. She had prepared lightly salted and peppered potatoes, baked chicken, and fried vegetables. The food was of very high quality and mother gave it to us a lot, as it was Sona's favorite dish. Father began to speak.
“Malo, your teacher says you’re not focusing in school.” Father spoke sternly, “Malo, education is very important for a growing man.”
“Well, what about Sona? He doesn't have to go to school! He gets whatever he wants when he asks for it. When I ask for something, you always tell me “We don't have the money to spend of useless things.”' Malo exploded.
“You obviously care about him more than you care about me!” Malo slammed his hands on the table.
“Don't say thing like that!” Mother yelled.
“Well, it is true, isn't it? Stop hiding everything from me! It almost like I'm not part of the family at all. Is it maybe you don't trust me? Maybe I don't deserve to know? What?” Malo huffed and puffed. Everyone fell silent.
“Malo, Sona can tell you if he feels comfortable enough.” Mother spoke in a calm matter. Father got up and went over to the old sofa in the living room. Mother stayed and gathered up the dishes. No one spoke to me. Sona ran up to the room crying. He couldn’t handle all the yelling that had just happened. Once again, it was my entire fault. Mother didn’t even lecture me when I complained. She cleaned up with tears in her eyes. She couldn’t even believe that her own son had yelled at her. Father tried to calm her down. I ran up to my room, Sona was sitting quietly on his bed. I went over and sat quietly on my bed.
“Listen Sona, I’m sorry for all the yelling. I was just so angry! You can obviously tell Mother and Father Love you more than they love me. It’s like I don’t even exist. That’s how I am feeling.” Malo gritting his teeth.
“I really do want to tell you, but I am not sure exactly how you will react or if you will understand.” Sona sighed.
“Well, you have to tell me what it is now. Please, I want to know.” I walked over to Sona. Sona faced me.
“Do you know what the esophagus is?” Sona started to explain.
“The what? Oh no, you’re one of those extremely smart kids.” I joked to lighten the mood. Sona glared at me.
“Sorry, continue.” I cleared my throat.
“An esophagus is the passage between the pharynx and the stomach. The pharynx is the throat, the musculomembranous cavity. It’s behind the nasal cavities, mouth, and larynx. It communicates with all of those and the esophagus. If the esophagus gets infected then it will cause damage to your nose, mouth, and larynx.” Sona explained. I nodded along only understand a little bit of what he said, but I got the point. I was amazed by his unending territory of knowledge.
“So, what does all of that have to do with you?” I asked Sona. Sona sighed deeply.
“I have a type of illness called Esophageal Cancer.” Sona looked up at me. My eyes relaxed and I no longer felt stiff. Rather, I felt loose, but I couldn’t move. My heart felt almost as if it had dropped to the bottoms of my feet. I just nodded.
“Is in curable?” I asked. I quickly regretted asking that question. I really didn’t want to know. Everyone known the saying, Curiosity kills the cat. I guess I was just too curious and I would pay dearly for it. Sona just shook his head and hugged me. I had no idea it was that bad. That’s why mother and father cared about him more, because he was dying. I thought it was because I couldn’t be loved. Sona sat for quite some time hugging me. However, it was getting late and sleep was needed. I had school in the morning and couldn’t afford to miss it. I dragged my tired, weeping lump of organs over to my bed and plopped down.
“Malo, If you could recreate an entire world, what would it be like?” Sona sleepily asked. I thought about that for a moment. What would it be like?
“Well, I’d be the ruler, Of course. I would have the ability to have people do stuff for me just by looking them straight in the eye. There would be creatures of all different kinds. No one could get sick because the air quality is too nice, it couldn’t even become a possibility. The food would be very tasteful and there would be a ton of it.” I smiled at the thought of my world. It seemed almost impossible of it becoming a reality.
“Are you saying mom’s food is tasteless?” Sona giggled.
“A little bit.” I laughed back.
“Then, the only way to get in would be through a secret door in a build that’s almost like your second home. Basically meaning, you spend a large amount of your time there. At first it seems scary, but that’s what they want you to think. If you’re too scared and go back, you will never know what they were guarding in the first place. However, as soon as you enter, you can’t go back, and to make it more interesting, As soon as you enter you’re completely forgotten about by everyone in your world. They will never know you existed. So, you won’t know if your being missed or not.” I sighed.
“Don’t you want people to miss you though?” Sona was confused.
“Sona…Lets go to bed.” I turned my face toward the wall. ‘It’s not that I don’t want people to miss me it’s just I know I won’t actually be missed by people.” I thought.
​Morning rose around and I turned over to see that Sona was missing from his bed. All of his stuff was gone too. My mind figured it was normal, so I just carried on with my normal life style and got ready for school. I walk down the slowly decomposing stairs. I looked in each room, not even a sound was alive in the house. My parents were both absent. I figured they were just at work. I grabbed some old, stail rice cakes for breakfast, looked at the clock, and sped out the door. I managed to make it right before my mean, old, hairy teacher. She was later than I was. I was about to go in, when suddenly, my father stopped me. Why was he here? Father brought me to a tall cement building. It looked more like a place where they torture people. Or even a place straight out of a horror movie. The doors opened by themselves. When we walked in, many people wore coats that were colored white. It wasn’t faded white; it was perfect, unblemished, snow white. They all had name tags and curious looking instruments in their pockets. Father and I went to a device that brought us up to a certain floor in the push of a button. We went into a semi-light room where Sona was sleeping in a very nice bed. The sheets were clean and the pillows were as soft as marshmallows. Mother was softly weeping in the corner. Father brought me over to her.
“He told you. Didn’t he.” Mother’s voice was very frail. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t even want to answer her.
“Answer me! He told you!” Mother spat.
“Why would it matter if he told me or not?” I spoke sternly.
“This is your fault! It’s your entire fault that our son is dying!” Mother collapsed to the ground. I looked over at the machine that made a beeping sound. It made that same sound every two seconds. I watched the machine and blocked out the pathetic weeping of my mother. How was it my fault? I never did anything it Sona. Am I just here so she wouldn’t have to blame herself? I was awoken by the sound of a flat forever sounding tone. The ever forming mountains on the screen had run flat. Mother’s weeping had become louder and father joined in.

Author's Note

Should I add anything? Is there a way I can make the death hit the readers a little harder?