Fan Fiction ❯ Life is Cruel ❯ Part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Life is cruel. And it has been to me, in more than one way.

I live with my parents, an older brother and a younger sister. My mother is slightly shorter than average with bright green hair and blue eyes. My father is tall and muscular, with green hair and eyes, both extremely dark, almost black. My brother inherited all of my father's characteristics and my sister, all of my mother's. While I'm stuck half way. I have my mother's hair and build, my father's eyes, and I'm not tall or short. I'm what they call 'average' in height. We all have pale skin.

We live in an old house. Not one that is dirty and disgusting, but one of those really expensive houses that you find in the older snobby parts of town. The ones that people 'supposedly' buy, so they can fix them up. Our house is old, and it's only a three bedroom. Meaning, two of us have to share.

At least I used to have to share with my brother. When he was old enough, he moved out, and I got to have my own room.

But my life isn't a great as it sounds so far. Not at all.

Sure, my parents have three children, but when you're in the middle you tend to get ignored, right? It's normal. But with my parents, it's taken to an extreme.

My parents often forget that I even exist. They only remember when I'm in the same room. Once my brother moved out, my sister and I switched rooms. Doesn't sound too bad, right?

Wrong.

My brother and I had shared the bigger of the two rooms. You'd think that he would just move out and then my sister and I would stay in our own rooms. But my parents, ever spoiling my little sister, whom I might add, is only a year younger than me, decided to give her the bigger room, while I get the smaller one. My sister's old room is the worst room in the house. There are water stains on the walls and ceiling, the paint is peeling, there are cracks in the walls, the window is stiff and doesn't keep the drafts out and the wooden frame on it looks like it's rotting.

Oh, and did I mention that there's no door?

Well, after the switch in rooms, my parents decide to 'redecorate'. Meaning, fixing everything in the house and painting and all that junk. But of course the whole time, I was never in the same room as them.

My room stayed the same. I didn't even get a door. And trust me, it would be useful later. But of course, my parents forgot I existed.

But don't get me wrong, although my sister is spoiled, she is by no means, a brat. She's the best sister I could hope for. Especially when my parents forget about me. That means most nights, I don't get and dinner unless I make it myself. I'll be an expert chef by the time I'm twenty.

I always figured that my parents favored my brother because he was first born, and my sister because she was the only girl. And their 'baby'

So there I am, in my disgusting room, while my parents are in there 'newly' furnished living room, when my brother decides to come home. For a 'visit' he says.

Right, 'visit' my ass. That can be taken in more than one way. Trust me, you should take it to mean both things.

Anyways, I'm forgetting to mention my brother and sister's names. How silly of me. Let's see if I can remember...ah yes, my brother Yuichi and my sister Kit. As for me? My name is Zeshin.

Well, remember when I said I don't eat unless I make it myself? Well, if I don't, then usually my sister will come in with food and drink. Like I said, best sister I could have.

Too bad my brother wasn't the same.

As to continue on with my parents forgetting about me, I have to buy the things I need with money that I get from doing odd jobs for people. But my clothes, although they still fit, often have rips in the jeans and tears in the t-shirts. I also have old running shoes. Sure they're old, but they're the best when it comes to running for your life. And believe me, I'll do that a lot, later.

So, my sister and I are a year apart. My brother and I are four years apart. I'm fourteen, you can figure out the rest.

Sure, when you first meet my brother, he's a nice guy. But spend a few evenings alone with him, and you'll change your perspective.

So speaking about an evening alone with my brother, that's exactly what happened one night. The weather wasn't being very kind either, it was a storm outside which meant I had to come out of my room so I didn't freeze, thanks to the ever present draft in my room.

My parents were going out to some stupid 'get together' with some of their 'friends', the one week when my brother decided he was going to 'visit' us. That left him alone with me and my sister. Safe right? Sure. But safe for who?

So anyways, after my parents left, I sat in front of the fire in our living room, my sister went to her bedroom and my brother went to the kitchen. He appeared moments later with hot chocolate for me. Needless to say, I was shocked. My brother never did anything nice for me.

"Here you go, Zesh." He said. Zesh? Who was he kidding? Why act all friendly and brotherly to me now?

"Thanks." I muttered, taking the mug from him.

Well, can you blame me? My room was freezing and there was someone offering me hot chocolate. Hard to resist. And of course, thanks to my lovely and forgetful parents, I was stuck with clothes that had rips in them and it would take me at least another few weeks to earn money to buy new clothes. Luckily it was summer so I still had plenty of time before school started again.

I drank the hot drink greedily, totally missing my brother's grin. Stupid move. Sure, it's obvious now, but back then I never thought anything bad about my brother.

Slowly, I began to feel sleepy. And of course my brother noticed. He even went through the trouble of getting a blanket and pillow for me so I could sleep in front of the fire.

I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Much softer than the ones I have in my room.

I was asleep for maybe twenty minutes according to the clock on the fireplace's mantle. Not enough time for me to wake up on my own. Something had awakened me.

My sister's screaming.

I tried to sit up, but I noticed that the sleep I had been in only moments before, was not sleep my body put itself into.

I was drugged.

My limbs were heavy and I couldn't lift them. Someone had drugged me so that I couldn't help my sister. But who?

Then I remembered my brother. How could I have been so stupid! That's why he was being so nice, so he could drug me then go after my sister. I had no clue what he was doing to her, and I didn't think I wanted to know.

A few minutes later, her screaming stopped. I thought she was dead, but then I heard her quiet sobbing, and someone speaking quietly. He was threatening her. All I could pick up was:

"...Or I'll kill Zeshin."

Then my sister's crying got a little louder, before I heard what sounded like a slap and she stopped. Then I heard his footsteps coming back towards the living room. I closed my eyes and hoped he would think I was still sleeping. I must have been trying too hard because my brow was creased and my brother lifted me off the floor by my collar.

"So you're awake, are you? I suppose you heard all that?" I could only nod. With my brother being as muscular as he is, I didn't think lying to him would be a good idea.

"So, if you tell anyone, I won't kill you, I'll kill Kit."

I paled. Kill, Kit? That's terrible, I never thought he would do something like that. He put me in my room, then left and went into the living room to watch TV.

Unfortunately, things got worse. My brother left a few days later, but came back in a few weeks for another 'visit'. He was drunk when he came home one night. My parents were out again and wouldn't be back for hours. It seemed that they were out a lot lately, but whatever, that's not the point.

What happened was something I never expected. He was drunk, sure, but I didn't think it would happen. He was rough with her, and her resistance wasn't helping her any. I was in front of the fireplace once again awakened from my drugged sleep by my sister's screaming. I know, I know, how could I fall for the same trick twice? I didn't. It's a lot harder to refuse when your brother is forcing it down your throat.

So there I was, lying on the floor, unable to move, while listening to my sister's screaming. When she stopped, there was this odd choked noise, then a thump. I tried to get up to see what it was, but my limbs wouldn't move.

Then my brother came out, fully dressed and still drunk.

"Awake again? Maybe I should put more in your drink next time." He said.

Unfortunately, there wasn't going to be a next time.

Before my parents got home, my brother picked me up, almost gently, and put me in my own bed, then he went to take a shower. While he was in the bathroom, my parents came home. It's routine that every time they come home, they check on my sister. So they both went into my sister's room.

There was screaming. Only this time it wasn't my sister.

It was my mother.

My brother came out of the shower in his pajamas and went to where my mother was screaming. He acted as if he didn't know what was going on. He even told them that he just got back from wherever and took a shower. They bought it.

Then he started pointing his finger in my direction.