Creative Piece

He felt as if the shadows were closing around him as he stared into their faces

Its his fault. Its all his fault. Obliviously dictating my treatment, his success has led to my demise. A
graduate, a soldier, a general, my older brother, Alexei, the embodiment of perfection, has created the war I
experience everyday within my own home. He is responsible for fabricating the nightmare I live in and
constructing the hell my parents, as shadows, prevent me from escaping. Its his fault, I'm abused. The way
I'm treated is all because of him. Reflecting the echoing war outside my door, each bomb reflects a blow to
the face, each shot reflects a verbal stab in the back and each scream reflects the agony and anger I feel
inside. If only he wasnt so perfect, if only he looked after me like an older brother should, and if only he
was here to protect me now, maybe itd be different.

Living in communist Russia as the first winter of World War Three begins, I feel the earth shake and the
thunder of gun shots fire as the darkness of war corrupts the purity of the glistening snow flakes falling to the
ground. Stepped on and walked over they remind me of myself, initially so pure yet so mistreated until their
purity is diminished for a reason that is not there own. Theyre treatment is dictated by an unknown source
like that of my brother trapping me within the confines of my own hell without even tell me why, why hed
do this to me, why hed leave me to live such a dark and miserable life, and why hed forced the wrath of my
parents upon me. Reflecting the coldness and anger clasping my heart, I find a sense of belonging in the hope
that I will one day get my revenge on my brother, my dictator, and unleash my wrath upon him so that he can
understand what its like to be bullied and abused by the ones who are supposed to love you, protect you, the
ones who are supposed to support and be there for you know matter what. Preparing to attack its prey, this
coldness within my heart, like that of the heart of the snow flakes, makes me dangerous to those who are
ignorant enough to underestimate me and make the mistake of believing that Im still pure and innocent.

Gone to war, Alexei left me. He created this hell hole and left me to defend myself within it. Such courage
and pride he must have had to leave his little brother to be captured by the abusive talons of our parents.
Where is his honour? Where is his love? Where is his pride? Such a perfect son created such an imperfect
reality of my home life. Fighting for the last few years in the war between the superpowers of America and
Russia, a war instigated by the American bombing of a state government facility via drone, he left me to
honourably defend his country, but how can he do that when he doesnt even honourable defend his own
family? Its his fault I was put in in this mess, and its his fault, as the dictator, why I'm still trapped in the
nightmare of trying to fit his standards of perfection.

Watching as war unravels within the confines of my own home, I wait for the yelling of my parents to stop.
Directed at me, they yell, they blame, they control, they dehumanise and belittle all the things that make me
different to Alexei. Not embodying the persona of the perfect son, I watch in silence, as I normally do, and
wait for the disappointment and anger of my parents to subside. Accustomed to this abuse, I wait for my
father to hit me in the face for not responding, to hit me in the face for wishing to make the abuse as less as
possible. They want me to respond yet they dont like when I answer, they hit me more. They want me to
share my emotions concerning Alexei, but when I express how I truly feel about their perfect son, they hit
me harder, they hit me more. They hit me more when I fulfil their desires so now I only fulfil some of their
commands in order to lessen the treatment directed towards me.

Anger boils inside me as the right side of my face stings unbearably. Although I get this abuse a few times a
day, it always hurts, the pain never goes away.. I wish it did. I wish I was able to remain unmarked by my
parents. As hard hits continue to pound on the right side of my face, ..one..two..three..four.. I cant help but
wince and loose count as my father pounds the same spot over and over again. Overwhelmed with pain, I
want to scream Stop, but know if I do, he will make it worse, and will find pleasure in my pain at the idea
of him shaping me into an obedient son. Distracting me from my pain, the thought of Alexei enforcing this
wrath upon me makes anger burst through my veins until I am entirely consumed with hatred.

Burning with hatred, and the desire to enact revenge I blame Alexei. Its his fault that I, a sixteen year old
boy, have been abused endlessly throughout the past three years. Its his fault for creating such high
standards of perfection in academics, sport and obedience. Its his fault for leaving me for the war. He needs
to understand my pain. It never would have happened if he didnt leave. We would have been a normal
family if hed just stayed. I hate him. I hate him with all the strength in my body. I wish that he was dead. I
wish that he was never born. I wish I just wish that he never existed.

As loud knocks echo throughout the house, relief encompasses my persona at the chance of there being a
break from the abuse, a break from the pain. I watch through a fractured lens as my father quickly covers my
mouth with his bruised and bloody right hand to ensure the entrapment of my voice, while my mother, free
from blood, walks with a prideful and graceful stride from the kitchen towards the door. The abrupt silence
of having a visitor outside our door sends chills down my spine. Such a rare occurrence feels strangely
satisfying and provides me with a few seconds of peace of mind. As the door opens and the timber flooring
of our house creaks, I watch from the shadows of the kitchen as a soldier presents himself to my mother.
Giving her a letter, I watch in curiosity and pain as she opens it once the soldier has left and breaks down in
agonising grief. It is then that I realise that something is wrong, something has happened to my brother.

Allowing me to freely breathe, my father removes his grip from my mouth and quickly runs towards my
mother to comfort her. In a rare display of affection, for the first time I perceive my parents as real people
with feelings not just as shadows who dictate my life. Through my mothers desperate wailing of Alexeis
name, I knew my prediction was right. Overcome by the conflicting emotions of sadness yet happiness
because of the way in which my brother is finally feeling the pain he unknowingly forced upon me, the fact
that he is dead actually scares me.

As I watch my angry wishes and nightmares come true, my parents turn to face me as shadows in the
darkness of our home with a renewed evil and anger in their eyes the evil of true war. As they come
towards me, I face them too afraid to look away, too afraid that theyll kill me if I close my eyes.

Reaching me, they hit me, slap and blow, slap and blow. My mother hits me. For the first time, my mother
hits me. No longer a happy bystander, she takes part in my torture, she becomes corrupted by the darkness of
my house, she is now another shadow full of evil preventing me from belonging. Her eyes, the pain I feel is
nothing to the fear I have of whats going on in her head, of what shes thinking, of the madness glistening in
her eyes. Waiting for the abuse to end and wishing for her eyes to change, I fear my new reality.

As fear replaces my anger, I close my eyes and think of him, Alexei, the perfect man, the perfect son. Such
perfection surely couldnt be destroyed, surely wouldnt be destroyed. My yearning for revenge led my
wishes to come true, led to his death, and its only now that I wish my prayer for the abuse to stop came true
instead.

As the winter air from an open window chills me to the bone, I wait for my parents to hit me. With closed
eyes, I wait for them to deliver a final blow. But as I open my eyes, I only see the darkness surrounding me,
and know that night has fallen. Gone, I realise that theyve finally left, finally given me a break. Trying to
move, my body throbs with pain, pounding like Im still being beaten.

The anger I feel at the fact that Alexei died and is still causing me pain corrupts my senses, making me
strong enough to stand. Wanting to punch something, I wish he was here. Wanting to hit him, I wish he was
here. Burning like the fiery pits of hell, my anger controls me. No longer having the mind to think, I stand up
ignoring the pain with a need for destruction, a need to enact some form of revenge.
Knowing that my parents are out because theyve finally given me a break, this is my only chance, this is the
only time I have to enact my anger upon him, its the only time I have to make him feel the pain I do from
his place in hell. Im going to eliminate the physical memory of him, theres going to be no proof that he ever
existed, maybe then the abuse will stop.

Always keeping a lighter in his room, Alexei used to hypocritically tell me to never play with fire because
thats how you get burnt. Arriving at his door, its time for him to get burnt, its time for him to be completely
eliminated from my life, and what better way to do that then with fire, the enemy of all beings. Maybe then
Ill finally be free from the coldness clasping my heart, the anger burning in my veins, and the bruises
covering my unrecognisable face.

Forcefully opening the first draw of my brothers bed side table I find the lighter on top of a journal, a diary
looking thing that would justify his evil. Curiously, putting the lighter on top of his table, I open the journal.
As I start to read it, I finally realise that I was wrong. Full of my brothers sorrow and pain, Ive been wrong
this entire time. Eradicating my anger, I become absorbed in the pain he felt and its similarity to my own
suffering. All this time, he hasnt been the dictator or abuser, he's been my protector. I should have never
wished him dead, its my parents who are the ones that created and enforced such evil, its all their doing. If
only I found this earlier, its my fault hes dead, its my wish that killed him. Alexei was just a fallen angel
who had hidden the abuse from me, and taken it all on himself. I will get my revenge, not on him, but on the
dark souls of my shadows, my parents, and I will finally reveal to them the evil within my heart for the both
of us, for my angel in disguise.