Story of a withered soul.

This is a real story of a friend of mine who wanted to share his sufferings with people because he couldn't any longer bear the unbearable.

Story of a withered soul.

It’s Tuesday afternoon, the weather is perfectly alluring, trees are savoring the sunrays, humans are enjoying the breeze, all in all, it’s a utopian spring’s day.
While trying to enjoy my usual afternoon coffee, I noticed that people around me are happy, everyone is careless about their burdens. At that specific moment, a bizarre surmise struck me. What if no one else has problems like mine? What if their lives are serene, can it be? Can life be that unfair?
Yesterday, I’ve been told that my brother has been involved in a fight, him three older guys against some guy which I don’t know. Actually, I do know no one but my brother. This little brother whom once I promised I’d protect no matter what, him, whose innocence had once warmed my heart and suffused my feelings with all the joy and love of this world. This same little brother who has been a victim of this corrupted society. Here he is accused of a crime which he did not commit but be a part of.
I’m not going to defend my brother for what he did, but, I’m going to justify his position, to remember a dark loophole in my memory that only clouds, suns, moons, seasons had been witnesses to.
Being deprived of many of his fundamental rights, this mishap shouldn’t be unpredictable. We have been raised in a poor family, our parents were reckless, as for myself, I did have the will to study, to mend the situation and have a bright future. But reckless as he was, he had another point of view, all he wanted to do was to play. In addition to his recklessness, he has been forsaken in the horrific school, sorry public* school. Yes, it deserves to be seen as horrific, appalling and distasteful school.
At the age of 10 I left the home, yes I did, I couldn’t bear all the maws of it, I have been fluttering like a caged bird, conflicts everywhere to the point that my dreams were about nothing but disputes, my eyes are filled with tears right now because of remembering this period. My grandfather died in 2010 and I beseeched my grandma to live with her and she accepted so I seized the opportunity that presented itself to me back then, I emancipated myself from the hell where I was. But I left my little brother in it, impotent that I was, nothing could have been done.
I have been judged by people, I’ve been told how can one live without his parents, far from them. I avoided answering to this kind of questions, I’ve been seen with all the repulsion of the world, they derided and disparaged me. No one understood, no one felt my suffering, they thought that it was easy for me to be torn apart from my mother, from my sole precious soul in this earth. I loved her, I still do love her, but what I endured was more than what I was capable of.
By and by, I went on living with my aunt, all the while maintaining my aim which was to mend the situation wherein I was. I studied days and nights, like fighters in the wars, firefighters against fire. the point of upheaval was my aunt’s husband death, as a widow, she had to go abroad for a long while to fix some legacy’s affairs. So I had to go back to my parents’ house but as a mature this time.
The house was different this time, problems as always, but worse than the old ones, my brother’s innocence has disappeared, his way of speaking to my parents is unbecoming, I begged for one single peaceful night, my beseeching had never been accepted. And here we are waiting how things can be resolved tomorrow, until then, the scared little boy inside me is trying to find somewhere to run away to because we live just once and I cannot really carry on in the hell house.

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