All the Little Secrets (English Prep 2)

My eyes darted to each and every window on the front of my house. All dark. Not a single light on. There were no other cars in the driveway, no movement outside at all besides the swaying trees dancing with the sudden gust of wind. Another sigh left my lips. I knew what I was walking into. But just because I’d been here before, in this exact position, didn’t mean I was mentally prepared for it. Could I ever be mentally prepared for this? Would I ever be okay with feeling like my heart was lodged in my throat as panic seized my body?

My hair swayed with the breeze as I walked up to my front door. It was hard seeing someone destroy themselves. It was like a broken piece of glass becoming more jagged with each new memory, and that piece of glass felt like it was slicing away at my flesh each and every time I got close.

But nonetheless, I kept coming back. I kept caring. Because that was just who I was.

As soon as I stepped foot inside the foyer, noting the alarm had been disarmed, my heart grew weaker. My pulse was racing, and my hands were shaking even more than before. I reiterated aloud, “It’s fine, Piper.” Then, as I shut the door behind me, I called out, “Jason?” I knew he was here, and if he heard my voice instead of my parents’, he’d come out. So I waited. I flipped the light on as I walked farther into the hallway and instantly paused near the opening of the kitchen.

My eyes widened as I spotted a line of red-dotted toilet paper trailing through the hallway from the washroom. What the hell? My heart went into triple speed as my voice grew panicky. “Jason? Where are you? Are you okay?”

I picked up my pace and all but ran up the stairs, skipping over the tiny, random bits of torn toilet paper, all of which had blood on them. They were like little clues to a scavenger hunt. A scavenger hunt that didn’t have a gleaming treasure at the end.

As soon as I was in front of Jason’s old bedroom, I pushed the door open. It was dark in his room, except for a small stream of light pouring from the bathroom. There was a quiet rustling of noise coming from inside, and it should have made me proceed with caution. Or it should have at least prepared me for seeing the shell of a human my older brother had become. But it didn’t. Instead, I all but ran and pushed the door open wide, taking in the sight quickly, like downing a shot of potent vodka.

“Jesus Christ, Jason.” I quickly stepped in front of him and tilted his head back by the tips of his hair, peering down into his bloodshot eyes. One was so swollen it barely opened, and there was a trickle of dried blood coming from his mouth. His red t-shirt was ripped at the collar, and as I further investigated his body, I noticed small cuts lined his elbow all the way down to his wrist. “What the hell happened?”

“Where are Mom and Dad?” Jason’s words were muffled, probably due to the swelling of his busted lip.

“I don’t know. China, I think. They don’t know you’re here, even though you tripped the alarm.”

He dropped his head but brought it back up slowly. “Wait…they changed the code?”

Obviously.

“Because of me?”

I didn’t answer him because it was redundant. Of course they changed the code because of him. What did he expect after stealing hundreds of dollars’ worth of things from them last time he made an appearance? He knew he wasn’t allowed here, yet he continued to come back, trying his hardest to get around the fact that my parents had completely given up hope on him.

I turned around and grabbed the white hand towel sitting on the vanity top and ran it under cold water. “What happened?”

My brother shook his head, cringing. He shut his eyes, small crinkles forming on his skin. He took a heavy breath, and I held mine, waiting for his answer.

“I fucked up.”

Always the same response.

I began blotting at the flakes of blood on his chin. I felt nauseated, sick to my stomach, and even though I’d been in this spot so many times over the years, the disappointment never got any easier to deal with. Seeing my brother like this was a hard pill to swallow. “Is that why you stole so much shit from Mom and Dad last time you were here?”

He nodded, just barely—like if he didn’t admit it, then it wouldn’t be true.

“Jason,” I exhaled, still blotting at his face. Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I bit my tongue to keep myself together. “They’re done with you. You know that, right?”

It was true. My parents were so done with my brother and his never-ending fuck-ups. They set their life-after-Jason plan into motion the second he stole from them. Their hope had vanished into thin air, leaving me the responsibility of being the only one to care.

Jason’s eyes flashed open, the green in them so much more potent against the red, bloodshot color that surrounded them. “But you’re not. Right, sis?”

I should have said no. I should have told him that he needed to leave. That I, too, was sick of his shit. That I couldn’t keep watching him do this. That I resented him for the last few years of my life. That I hated him for what he did to our family. But I didn’t.

I swallowed back a lump as I wrung out the white towel in the sink, wetting it once more. “Who do you owe this time?”

“His name is Tank.”

My hand paused as I peered down at his tattered jeans and ripped shirt. “I don’t think I’m familiar with him,” I answered.

My brother winced as he sat up a little taller along the vanity cabinets. “That’s a good thing, little sis.”

A sigh left my lips as I blotted his face again. “How much do you owe?”

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I bit my cheek, waiting.