The observer

My father was abusive towards my brother and me for as long as I could remember. He would frequently arrive home drunk and use physical violence to take out his frustrations regarding his workplace on us, even though we had done nothing wrong.

Unfortunately, my mother was not a source of comfort or protection for me nor my brother. Instead, she was exactly the same as my father, but in a different way. She would use verbal and emotional abuse, belittling us and making us feel worthless. She often seemed to resent us for existing and wondered aloud to god why she even had children.

At one point, I believed that this was normal - that everybody received the same treatment at home. But when I started elementary school, I realized I was wrong. Parents smiled at their children and looked at them in a way mine never did. They came to visit them, gave them hot meals to eat, money, electronics and would oftentimes drive their children home from school.

My brother and I, on the other hand, had none of that. Our parents would make us do our own meals, yet we were not allowed to touch the groceries they bought, other than the leftovers.

After finishing elementary school, I moved on to middle school. Unfortunately, this is when the bullying began. As kids grew older, they seemed to become more cruel and intolerant of differences. They also learned to be mean in a silent, but adult and mature way. It started with students noticing and making fun of anyone who wore second-hand clothes or shoes that were ripped and old behind their back.

The boys were often subjected to physical bullying, such as being pushed or hit, and were mocked for their appearance or interests. On the other hand, girls were more likely to experience mental bullying. They were often isolated, ignored, and made to feel alone. Some even faced physical bullying as well, although the type and intensity of bullying varied depending on the abuser.

I often found myself trying to blend in and not draw attention to myself. However, that was an impossible feat to achieve as there is always bound to be one person who hates you for no reason. But that's a story for another day.

My brother was the kind of person who would never tolerate bullying towards others let alone himself. He would always try his best to put others before him as he believed there was a point to that. To protect his friend, he insulted one of the more popular guy at school and charged at him with everything he had.

That selflessness, foolishness and stupidity caused him to get suspended for two weeks and cause a whole group of students at school to hate him and his guts. My older brother, who was just a two years older than me, fell victim to the bullying. It was hard to hide the physical abuse he received from my father, and the fact that his clothes were ripped and shoes were old. He had also been severely malnourished and beaten throughout his life, which impacted his current physical appearance.

As soon as my brother came back, a group of popular boys and girls at school turned my brother's life into a living hell. They constantly taunted him, made fun of his appearance, and humiliated him in public. His so-called friend and the people he helped out before ignored him and the bullying happening to him.

Of course, my brother tried fighting back but it was something he did not have the power to do. These popular kids had wealth, power and the numbers. They also had supportive parents who would die for them. My brother had none of that.

Our last names at school was very common and I did not associate or talk to my brother at school ever. So, I was never implicated into his bullying and I always kept my distance whenever he was near.

Your probably wondering why I would allow all that to happen to my brother and not defend him?

That was because I simply didn't care. I've learnt that even though blood is thicker than water. Family meant nothing, especially mine.

Even more so, I had no power whatsoever. I was simply a helpless female with nothing. What could I ever hope to achieve by "defending" my brother. To me, my brother was the same as everybody else.

Yes, he was selfless and he did try to put others before him all the time and now he's received the punishments for his so-called kindness. After all the bullying, I had hoped he would learn that life isn't fair nor would it ever be just.

Seeing my brother's pain and suffering was interesting to say the least. He had learnt, it was first time ever i had seen those expressions in his face. He was always full of hope and happy, but now, it was good to see he finally saw, what i saw in the world. That it was not worth defending.

One day, he had burst out in anger. For the very first time in his life.

"Why? Why aren't you ever on my side? Am I not you son! Shouldn't you put family before telling me to apologize to those bastards even though I was trying to defend myself?"

My brother didn't fear our father. Never.

"Do you think I care about what happens to you? Why would I want to cause some trouble and offend important people for you? You think you're worth that much? You are simply a leech and once you turn 18, I'll get rid of you once and for all!" My father said loudly, his expression filled with rage.

My brother had a brokenhearted expression and walked back to his room. While my mother ignored everything and continued to wash the dishes.

My brother's bullying escalated at school. The beatings he received also increased more at home. This eventually caused him to reach his breaking point.

I'll never forget that day during the end of my middle-school years. I had just returned from a 5-day school field trip and noticed an eerie silence as I walked into the living room. For the first time, I couldn't hear my mother's voice. She was always on the phone, and her loud voice echoed through the house, particularly in the kitchen. My father was usually sitting in the living room watching the news, but he wasn't there either.

As I made my way up the stairs, I noticed that the door to my brother's room was open. This was odd, as it was usually closed shut. My heart began to race in as I approached the door.

As I pushed open the door, I saw it. My brother's lifeless body hung from a rope, swaying slightly with the gentle breeze coming in from the open window. I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move or comprehend what had just happened. That simple? It was that easy for him to break?

That was not fair.

But then, I noticed something even more intriguing. On the floor lay both my mother and father, their throats slit, and blood pooling around their lifeless bodies. It was clear that they had been murdered. As I looked closer, I realized that their bodies had been dragged across the floor and positioned next to each other. The sight of their lifeless bodies, the blood, and the silence.

For the first time in my life, I was happy. The egg and the fertilizer were dead. They received their karma that was long past due.

I was free, finally.

But then, I looked at my brother and wondered. Did he do this? Was he capable of this? He was a kind and selfless soul, who was incapable of hurting a fly.

But then again, perhaps this was his breaking point.

…

I called the police to report the incident and investigators quickly arrived at my home, turning it into a crime scene. It was revealed that two days prior, a group of male and female high school students had been murdered in various locations. Two females were found dead behind the school, one male was killed in his living room while his parents were away on a business trip, another male was murdered in a secluded park, and the final two victims, a male and a female, were killed in a private room in a club. All of the victims had their throats slit, and although the murders occurred on the same day, it took almost a day for parents and students to realize their absence. These were the same individuals who had bullied my brother.

The investigators were able to connect the dots and concluded that my brother was the perpetrator. His fingerprints were examined and found all over the crime scenes, there was video footage of a person similar in stature leaving the apartment building of the male victim.

Finally, the knife that was used to kill my parents had his fingerprints on it. It was believed that the knife was his final murder weapon for all his victims.

To be continued