I glanced over my shoulder at my brother, in the back seat. Our bruises were gone, and our scars were mostly healed. I smiled as I drove down the road, looking at most of the scenery, wondering what awaited us at our home. We were returning to live with our parents, who, hopefully, had made their lives turn around. I was about as happy about moving back in with my childhood tormentors as a fox is when it gets a thorn in its paw.
The only reason I was moving back, was because my brother wanted to give them another chance. My dad had turned into a respectable man in the past seven years, and my mom had learned to manage her anger. They were still in the same farm house, so I was pretty excited to get my room back. Yeah, right.
“Joe, do you think they really changed?” I heard Wesley ask me from the seat next to me. I shrugged, knowing that wasn't what he wanted to hear, but I couldn't help it. I was very reluctant in returning. I wasn't sure what was going through my mind at the moment. All I knew was there was the road in front of me that led us back to our home town.
I exited the interstate and hit the highway. I pulled down my visor as I looked at my brother again and smiled slightly. “I'm trying to leave the past in the past. But, we're high-tailin' it outta here if they start their crap. Got it kiddo?” I finally said, ruffling his hair as we turned down the long winding road that led us to our original, real life nightmare when we were children.
Kids back when we were younger would always talk about the nightmares they had after they watched a horror movie. They never realized how bad my own home life was. They didn't care. They were ten at the time. Who would? The teachers would. I'm sure. Yeah, okay. If that's what helped me sleep at night, I would think of all the people who really “cared”, and yet, they didn't do a damn thing about it when they could have. Why in the world would I think they would now? Even if things got too bad, I knew Wesley could handle them. He was a football player for Christ's sake!
I stared straight ahead as my CD blared through the speakers in the car, glancing every now and then at my brother's grin on his face. It was my senior year. I shouldn't be back where all the hellacious activities happened in my childhood. I should be out partying and living it up in some southern town, not headed to Atlanta, trying to patch up some broken relationship with my sperm donor and my incubator. I couldn't wrap my mind around why Wesley wanted to go back. Did he not remember what had happened to us the night we ran away to Kel's house?
