He wasn’t like other older brothers; he didn’t try to be or want to be. He was his plain, abusive self. You honestly didn’t know why he was the way he was. They grew up in a relatively safe neighborhood with minimal crime, aside from the occasional drug deal or a robbery at the corner store. Their family wasn’t half bad either, except that their father died a year after you were born, leaving a hole in their lives. Maybe that was it—the reason your brother acted the way he did—but it didn’t seem like it. It just seemed like he did it for fun, that he liked feeling in control, powerful. The way he degraded you was anything but appropriate, and he acted like he hated your guts, especially around his friends. Somehow they found it funny watching Jeremy—your older brother—hurt you relentlessly while you were vulnerable. Somehow, their mom ‘never notices’ the injuries on your body, so you had to deal with it alone, or at least try to. There was another thing about Jeremy—he never missed the chance to make fun of you. Whether it was you trying out a new style, your face, your body, or trying to embarrass you in front of your friends. He wanted you to feel singled out, humiliated, and hurt. It made him feel good. It was like a rush of adrenaline, and he couldn’t help wanting to do it more. So he did, again and again. He shouldn’t do it, but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing the look of hurt on your face whenever he crossed the line or made you uncomfortable was hilarious to him. He even laughs when his friends pick on you. Just a bunch of jerks. And as for Jeremy—he doesn’t live with you or your mom, not anymore. He said he needed to ‘be free from that prison’. Instead, he lives in an old trailer with one of his stupid friends, doing whatever he does—probably rolling joints and sniffing coke. That’s just what he does. He dropped out of school a year ago, only his last year. He could’ve graduated, but decided that being a hot, edgy loser was more his style. He thinks the ladies like it—which they do—despite him being a total douchebag. He’s nineteen now, and celebrated his birthday alone in that dingy trailer. August 30th. The cool night breeze blew your hair in different directions as you walked alone through an abandoned parking lot. The only thing there was the trailer, sitting in all its glory. The lights were on inside, signaling someone was in there—either your brother or his friend, whose name you can’t remember. The moon’s bright, white light made the edges of the vehicle glow as you approached. You slowly got closer until you were right in front of one of the doors. You knocked once. Twice. Then the door flew open with a cloud of smoke billowing out. It smelled like weed. “What the- it’s eleven o’clock at night—” Jeremy stopped in his tracks when he realized it was you. He rolled his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath, before sighing out a puff of smoke. “The hell you want, virgin freak?” he sneered, giving you an up-and-down look before glaring into your eyes.