“What happened?” Logan demanded. I glanced around and saw a number of curious students who had gathered to watch the fight like a free show. They certainly weren’t there to help in any way.
“Well?” Logan continued impatiently.
My hands were trembling; my whole body was trembling, actually, and my head was spinning. My temples throbbed, and the veins in my neck were so pumped up that I was afraid one might burst at any moment.
I felt abruptly drained of strength, and I hit my knees, exhausted. It was then that I saw the bleeding cuts on my knuckles and realized I couldn’t even move my fingers. More blood trailed from my eyebrow and my lower lip. I ran my tongue over it, feeling the metal taste on my soft palate.
Logan rushed over to me and put a hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t want him touching me, so I flinched and jerked away from him.
“Don’t touch me,” I muttered, staring intently down at my hands. Once again, anger had made me do something sick. It removed me from reality and made me unstable and violent, even though I hadn’t wanted to lose control.
“Everything’s okay, Neil. Relax. I’m here.” Logan tried to rest his hand on me again, and, this time, I didn’t resist the fraternal touch. I sat down in the grass, blinking. I didn’t have the balls to look over and see what I’d done to Xavier or to linger on the horrified faces of the people who’d witnessed the whole scene.
I was ashamed of myself, like I always was when I lost my head, but I was even more ashamed of the way I still succumbed to Kimberly whenever she wanted me.
To distance myself from all of that, I sang “Imagine” softly in a low voice. I almost sounded hypnotized, and Logan kept silent, just listening to me.
“I…saw her…” I breathed, my eyes slowly moving over to him.
My brother understood right away. He knew about all of it, and, hearing that tune, he had immediately guessed what had happened and where I’d gone in my head.
“You know, don’t you? You know that you have to go see Dr. Lively?” He gently touched my forehead, brushing back a hank of hair. His frightened, concerned, and sad eyes locked on me, and he knew that I was once again completely subject to the part of myself that wouldn’t stop torturing me.
I just nodded.
I knew there was nothing else to do.
I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them, staring up into the blue sky.
I wanted so much to lose myself in that serenity, to know that light and chase away my demons to make room for something marvelous. I wanted to have a lighter life, to smile more, and to forget about everything that had happened to me. I wanted to be one of those clouds I was staring at: flawless and floating in the air. I wanted to be free.
“I s-saw her, Logan…” I slammed out again, turning to look back at him. “She was sitting in the chair, and the light was in my eyes…and…” My speech was confused. I licked my dry lips and found I couldn’t continue.
“I know. Don’t think about it; it’s over now…” He kneeled in front of me and touched my cheek. He wasn’t just my little brother; he was so much more. He was the only shoulder I could burden with the weight of my problems.
“I didn’t want to hurt Xavier, but I can’t control myself. I can’t control myself anymore…” I murmured, remorseful but trapped in a cage I couldn’t break. I wanted to get better; I wanted to destroy the toxic part of myself, but it wasn’t easy. It would never be easy so long as Kim was still alive in my mind.
Suddenly, I could hear Dr. Lively’s voice pulsing in my head.
“Your condition is characterized by extreme manifestations of anger, often uncontrollable and disproportionate to the situation. It’s another result of the abuse you experienced and your age when it began. Trauma caused this disorder in you. You’ve had violence done to you, and now you use violence to take your anger out on others. It’s a vicious cycle.”
My chest tightened, and I felt the air escaping from my lungs. I stared into Logan’s eyes and then back down at my own shredded knuckles.
I was confused; I didn’t understand a damned thing, but I did know what I had to do.
***
I didn’t go back to the house that day but stayed in the pool house with Logan so he could indulge his need to give at least my eyebrow and lip medical attention. I’d already showered and put on just a pair of basic black sweatpants. My brother had hovered over me the whole time, fussing over me like I was an actual fucking child.
“Hold still,” he chided, patting a cotton ball over my injuries.
“Watch it. It stings,” I complained, gritting my teeth. Logan also thought that I should go to the ER for the pain in my ribs, but I had categorically rejected that suggestion. I was a boxer; this was hardly my first real-life fight. I knew that the bruises would fade in a few days along with the pain.
I was lucky I hadn’t broken my hand and had gotten away with just some visible bruising. I knew how to land a hit on an opponent, especially in a street brawl like the one I’d gotten into earlier. Sometimes I’d knock a guy out with one punch, but Xavier was strong, and he knew how to take a hit as well as how to come back at me.
“Almost done,” Logan said as I sat on the pool house’s corner sofa with an ice pack on my terribly swollen right hand. There was a huge bruise across my abdomen that kept me from bending or turning.
“Okay, now I’m going to put a bandage on your eyebrow. Be patient.” Logan continued to tend carefully to me, and, once he was done, he got up from the coffee table to take the first-aid kit back into the bathroom. I decided to lie down while he did that. I had a powerful headache. When Logan came back, he gave me the stink eye.
