9780982307403 by Gregrhi Arawn Love Read Free Book Online Page B

beatings.

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    Any sign of defense only brought a more
    aggressive beating.
    This was my fifth birthday, November 10th, 1978.
    As I stood facing my brother, he was no less than
    six inches taller than me. Lean and strong in
    contrast to my cherubic soft form, he had been
    nurtured by Bobby to be a fighter and a thief. He
    roared toward me to earn yet another victory. As
    he lunged forward, I stepped out of his way, and
    he stumbled over some of the toys on the floor
    behind me. With his face down on the floor, I
    took my chance and jumped on him and
    pounded my tiny fists into every area of his back
    and head that I could reach. He squirmed and
    attempted to roll over. I lost my balance and fell
    forward, covering his body with my own. Our
    heads collided before Matthew’s head hit the
    floor. I sat up, higher now on his back and
    grabbed his hair. In a wild frenzy I smashed his
    face into the hard concrete floor. With my knees
    pinned on his back, he could not roll over, and I

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    could not stop myself from smashing his face over
    and over again. My rage had taken over, and I
    was lost in the new feeling of triumph.
    “Ge’off, ge’off,” I heard Matthew yelp. I ignored
    his pleas for release but allowed him to roll over.
    His face was red and beginning to bruise. His
    forehead and mouth were streaming blood. I
    balled my fists together and pounded them down
    onto his sculptured face like a hammer. His head
    bounced a last time before he spit blood onto my
    shirt. My energy was gone, but I brought my fists
    down in a flurry of connecting blows to each side
    of his face. I had never fought so much before
    and soon I had no energy to continue the combat.
    I stood up and kicked him in his ribs. He rolled
    over to avoid another kick but I kicked him in the
    back. A tooth fell out of his mouth in a pool of
    blood as he began to scream. His scream was
    loud and strangled with blood. I heard the door
    open behind me then quickly slam shut. Bobby

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    said something I could not hear through the door
    but I could hear him laughing.
    Reinvigorated by Bobby’s laughter, I jumped
    back on Matthew and pounded my tiny soft fists
    at any surface of his body I could reach. His
    blood excited and disgusted me at the same time.
    I knew if I left Matthew conscious he would get
    up and pounce on me before I left the room.
    Matthew wasn’t moving. He had stopped
    struggling and screaming. I could feel him
    breathing beneath me but I could not stop my
    attack. I had been attacked so many times by
    Bobby, Debbie, Matthew, and all of the
    neighborhood kids, and all of those beatings
    produced an anger I had never known until I sat
    on top of Matthew and watched the blood pour
    from his mouth. His face was swollen to resemble
    my own. Bobby’s words of encouragement to
    Matthew rang in my head. I knew I had won, and
    it felt good. For the first time I felt good, and I
    wanted to be rewarded.

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    I was sweating as I stood up and looked down at
    my brother, prone and motionless on the floor. I
    felt that I had finally become the son Bobby had
    always wanted, another fighter, and another
    strong protégé, to be paraded about in front of
    the endless parties of friends as he did with
    Matthew. I kicked Matthew one last time before I
    walked backward to the door, making sure he was
    not getting up. He did not move as I clicked the
    light off and opened the door and emerged
    victoriously, clomping breathlessly into the short
    hall toward the living room.
    “Damn boy, you good. That was fast. Come on
    and have a seat,” Bobby said without turning
    away from the television. I stumbled into the
    living room and presented myself before Bobby
    and Debbie, my clothes covered in Matthew’s
    blood. Bobby’s hand came up and slapped the
    side of my face before I ever noticed his hand
    move.

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    “What the fuck you doin’ out here boy?” Bobby
    bellowed.
    “Where tha fuck’s yo brotha?” he screamed as I
    tried to raise myself from