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“No one will come for you”
Thats what he said every night as I lay, intombed in the fear I had long ago resigned myself to.
My brother loves to torment me.
I know he ment no harm, that its just his idea of fun.

From as far back as I can remember to when I was seven, I slept on the bottom bunk. Every night after the lights were out I would try to fall asleep before my brother, who was on the top bunk would begin to torment and terrorise me.

“No one will come for you”
He would start. His voice wasn’t deep as such but low, the same low you can get by trying to whisper as loud as you can, and his voice had a texture of grit and small stones crashing and grinding the ground as if being pushed by a strong flow of water.
Alltough young, I can remember most nights back then.
A average night went as the following.

“No one will come for you. And you wont call for them either will you Jim…WILL YOU”
“No, not again. You wouldn’t want to upset them again, would you”
He would describe to me, in details my young mind could just about understand, of his anger and spite and envey towards me. He would say how he would bring me to the other place, to be consumed by his hate for me.
My brother loves to torment me.

He would tell me how he would take his time slowly braking one by one, my fingers, toes, arms, legs and ribs. One by one. He would tell me how he would thrill in taking his time clawing my face and rending my flesh, slowly. He would say it would take so long that by the end my first injury would be on the way to healing, allowing him to start again, and again, forever.
My brother loves to tormemt me.

He knew mum and dad never checked in on us and he knew I wouldn’t cry for them to come and stop my torment. I had to just lay there night, after night, after night for years as my brother tormented me.

When I was seven, my father secided the bunk
bed were no longer any good. He had bought them when he found out mum was carrying twins. Even though they wouldn’t be used for years He was so happy that he put them together before we were born. I say we, sadley my brother was still born, I dont know many details as my mum and dad get so upset at the subject. I no longer bring him up.

Im 27 now and still live mum and dad, I find it hard to keep a job, because of my drinking.
I try to drink most nights untill I pass out. The hangovers are hell, but it beats trying to lie in my single bed and get to sleep.
At least when he had the top bunk, I couldn’t see him.
My brother likes to torment me.

Credit To: cockney pasta

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