ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO Read Free Page B

owe me that much at least.   The
truth.   Who’s the real Tommy?”
    For a few tense seconds, I feel as though nothing
moves.   Time, space,
the air, the earth. Nothing breathes.   Rather, everything is stopped on a
gasp.   And for the first time in my
life, for as long as I can remember, when backed into a corner, I take a leap.   Instead of running or evading or lying ,   I take a leap
and I trust.  
    I don’t know why I leap, why I trust.   I don’t know why Sig, why now. I only
know that some part of me needs to be
able to trust him, needs to be able
to believe in love again.   Because
that’s what Sig makes me feel. Love. Trust. Hope.  
    “H-he’s my older brother,” I confess stiffly.    Once the words are out, the rest
spews out of me like an uncontrollable geyser.   The tears streaming down my face are
little more than evidence of its eruption.   “He came home one night, high on bath salts that he got from Lance
Tonin.   He punched Travis in the
face twice before I even knew something was wrong.   He was like a rabid dog.   Mad and so strong.   I couldn’t stop him. I could only stand
between him and Travis.   I honestly thought
he was going to kill us both.   But
he didn’t.   Instead, he turned and went
after Momma.   Maybe it was because
he blamed her.   I don’t know, but
one minute he was there with us, the next I heard these awful noises coming
from her bedroom.
    “He’d jumped on her in the bed and started hitting her.   I tried to pull him off, but he was
stronger than I could ever imagine a kid being.   He slung me off. Sent me crashing into
the bedside table. It sort of addled me. When I managed to get up, he was
beating Momma in the side of the head with the base of the lamp.   She wasn’t even conscious. She was just laying there, bleeding and gurgling.   That’s all I could hear other than Tommy
grunting and her bones crunching.  
    “I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed the bat Momma kept
under her bed and I hit him in the back of the head with it.   He just slumped over on top of her.   I stood there for a few minutes, waiting
for him to move. I couldn’t run.   I
couldn’t leave Momma and Travis alone with him, so I just stood there, staring
at them, not knowing what to do.   Travis came in and saw them.   He freaked out. He was just eleven at the time.   He cried for two days straight.   Pulled most of the hair out on one side
of his head. Peed in his bed both times he tried to go to sleep.”
    Even though I’m lost in days I’ve tried hard to forget, I’m
hyper aware of Sig’s silence. He hasn’t said a word.
    I haven’t looked at him to see what expression he’s wearing
either.   I’m afraid of what I’ll
find.    And it’s too late to
turn back now.   I’ve said too much
already.
    The only thing I can do is go on. So I do.
    “I killed Tommy.   I killed my own brother.   I
didn’t mean to, but I did.   After
that, I panicked.   I knew I couldn’t
let anybody find out.   They’d put me
away and Travis would be left all alone.   A ward of the state. Living with strangers. Or in an institution.   And for a child with Asperger’s, that would’ve been horrible for
him.   We were all he had, all he
knew. It was up to me to keep him safe, keep him home. Until he turned eighteen
and they couldn’t control him anymore, it was up to me.   He was up to me.   So until I could
think of some way to get rid of the body without getting caught, I put Tommy in
a freezer chest, the one out on the back porch that Momma always kept extra
meat in when she could afford to buy in bulk.”
    “Momma,” I sigh, swallowing because my mouth is as dry as
ash.   “Momma was hurt.   She was hurt bad. I thought she was
going to die there for a while.   She
didn’t, but she never really woke up again after that day. I took care of her,
cleaned her up and did the best I could to keep her alive so we wouldn’t get
caught or split up.