Childish defiance burned in Nika`s eyes when he sneaked in my room at night, sat on my bed and smiled his most nerve-racking smile. "I can`t sleep", he uesd to say, and with a sigh I let him under my blanket. He was soft and warm, his arms wrapped instantly around me and his face buried in my neck. It was unbelievable how fast fell asleep there, hanging on to me, smiling. These nights I started to hate Nika again, he stole my family, broke the last good thing I had. I lay awake for hours, motionlessly staring the ceiling, until finally I always woke up Nika and told him to go away.
Year later I stole my mum`s boozes. It made me feel dizzy and forget everything so I kept doing it. I quit school, got friends who were much older than me, spent less and less time at home and hated my family more than ever before. As it always goes, tolerance grows fast and soon I started to use drugs. These cost real money which I of course didn`t have, and when I was 14 I gave my body to dealer for few ecstasy pills. It was sick and disgusting at first, but you get numb at everything as time goes.
I turned 15 and summer started, when mum said she was going to send me to school home. She said she couldn`t care less what I do with my life, but I wasn`t part of their life anymore. I was bad role model to Nika, mum`s golden boy, who admired me and wanted to be exactly like his big brother. She said it would be better if I took overdose, I would do favor to whole world.
Blinding rage was tearing me apart and I was completely helpless in front of it. I wanted to hurt my mum, hurt her as much as she had hurt me. Hurt Nika, that bastard, who made my life so difficult, because of who I was in bottom. If Nika hadn`t been born, maybe mum would have loved me. LSD took me on bad trip, I was messed up, panicked and paranoid.
I didn`t remember much about it afterwards, and at some point I refused to remember that night at all. I was so in drugs that I can see it only as disgusting flashes that make me hate and loathe myself more and more each day: Nika`s small fists in tight grip, his back tisted for pain, tears in his face and blood on the sheets. Regret and self-loathe hit me at the moment I understood what I had done. I didn`t take anything with me, didn`t say sorry, didn`t even looked at him. I left him in the bed, ran out of the house I used to call my home, and throw up. I throw up over and over again, I throw up until only bloody mess came out.
In three months I had almost completely managed to deny it ever happened, to deny I even have a family. I had built walls around me for lies and self-deception, let drugs suck me in completely with them.
Then one day, when I was sitting in underground tunnels because there was warmer, not far from my previous home, hungry and already hands shaking little for withdrawal symptons, man named Morpheus came to talk to me: "Hey, I can see you haven`t had an easy life. I don`t know what has happened between you and your family, but now is good time to start over. I can help you clean, but you have to take a hold of yourself. Your brother needs you," he said looking away, " to take care of him and support him."
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