The Movie that best describes my brother

Written as a writing challenge for FAW

Growing up an only child, I had always wished for an older brother.  Someone who I could look up to and offer me words of encouragement or offer support through those times my parents argued.  A brother who would stick up for me in school when I was bullied, or just to hang out with outside of school hours.  I would always picture him to be like John-boy in the Waltons TV series or like Peter in the equally popular television family, The Brady Bunch (as a teen, Greg was too hippy-like for my liking).

Decades later, one could imagine my surprise when I learn that I don’t just have one big brother, but two.  I had known of one of them when mum told me she gave him up for adoption when he was a baby, we’d never dreamed our family would see him again.  I never knew of the other one that the Gov’t had taken off my mother when he was a baby because she was an unwed mother.  It was the 1950s, and during the time of stolen generations, not just of the indigenous people, but of the one that involved having children removed from young unwed mothers because the Gov’t felt they couldn’t provide a decent home for their babies.

My perfect idea of a brother had been split up into two persons (well actually three, but my oldest brother had suicided years before I knew of his existence).  Both brothers are older than me by a few years.  I wouldn’t call my brothers perfect though, far from it. 

The younger of the two had charm, charisma, a great character…. But he was in prison for the second time.  When I first met him, it was during his first lengthy stint in prison for apparent manslaughter.  I figured, well, he didn’t mean to kill the woman, he didn’t know she was going to die when he put his hands around her neck fending her off as she apparently held a knife to him, so I guess he’s ok.  He was certainly charming enough.  But when he finally got out of prison, he didn’t keep in touch with me because I was a pauper and couldn’t help him out financially, so he must have figured I was of no use to him, so when he ended up in prison, the second time with assault, I decided not to continue my contact with him.

The older of the two brothers was lacking in the charm, looks and character department, but I can’t entirely blame him for that.  He is my mother’s son after all, and it’s clear he takes after the male members of my ancestry who don’t appear to have carried the good looks or charm gene.  By comparison, my other brother (the one in prison) must have got his genes from his father’s side.  But this brother had faults too, he robbed from the poor (through the charity he works for), mum had witnessed this, but if one tried to tell him he’d been caught, he’d deny it with all his heart.  He tried to have sex with me, but I didn’t feel comfortable with this.  Although I didn’t see him till my 30s, I still believed this would still be classed as incest.  He had ripped my family off financially and he smiles all the time which does not flatter his looks, in fact it’s creepy.

If I were to pick a movie that best described these brothers of mine, it would have to be a suspense thriller with a touch of horror, not enough to have blood spilled, but enough horror to have you fear these two characters long after the movie had ended.

There’s a saying, “Be careful what you wish for”.  I’ve long since learned this saying is very true and have also learned that when you wish for something, be specific.  Yes, I should have wished for that ideal big brother with charm, good looks, a great listener, sensitive and caring.  But I should have specified if all these could just be in ONE brother, and one with good morals and ethics.  Perhaps all that was in the one that killed himself so many years ago.  Perhaps this is a gene that does not survive the males in my family.  Perhaps it’s a good thing that I never had children, especially sons.  All I can do is wonder, because now, I’ll never know.

Author's Note

All comments/critiques welcome :)