HIS POV

Life was never easy, especially for someone like me who had grown up unceremoniously in the Bronx. Ever since I can remember, I lived on the streets with my brother. To me, he was my world and to him, I was his. My life was dark and we could hardly make our ends meet. My brother was the only person that illuminated my black heart because I had always known the insufferable fate of humans and the cruelty that the poor faced.

But I kept hoping for a change or a miracle. I knew how my brother struggled to feed me, even when our parents had abandoned us he didn’t leave my side. I never knew what school was but I was knowledgeable. My brother was my teacher, it may sound that I am exaggerating but no, he knew the answer to everything.

If you asked him where the rainbow ended, he knew it.

If you asked him why the sea was blue but glaciers were white, he knew it.

If you asked him how a pen was made, he knew it. He answered all of my questions which made me wonder why we were still having a hard time. But there was always a question he avoided, Who are we and why didn’t we have parents?

Like everyone I had a name, Adrian. I was never sure what my brother’s name was because no one ever called him. If anybody ever called him they just told him, “Hey you!”.  It was our fate to live in the shackles of poverty and to be trampled upon, or so I thought. When I was twelve, old enough to understand the ways of the world, my brother enrolled me in a school. I knew the basics because  my brother had been there for me. It seemed, but natural that I was the target of the bullies at school. Indulging in fights and getting detentions seemed much too normal, but I still got good grades. This made me one of the most enviable guys in the class and I had to deal with a lot more jealous classmates playing nasty pranks on me everyday.

One day I ended up with sauce on my shirt, the other day it was my bag dripping wet. I endured everything or defended myself at the most because I knew that I was helpless against these people who had the wealth and the means to harm my brother whom I can’t help but treasure in my heart.

I remember when my brother hitched up a ride to get to Oklahoma saying that he had some work. I was alone for the next few days but one of these days I realized something. I had no idea what my brother did or for whom he worked? I had never known if we were actually siblings because he had nurtured me like one but we didn’t resemble each other the slightest. Could it be that there is something wrong with me ?

HIS POV

I was a prodigy from a young age yet it did not matter to me because I never received ‘love’. Though I was showered with attention and warmth by my nanny and the servants of the household, it did not matter because not once had I heard a word of genuine concern from my father or slept in my mother’s lap. As a matter of fact, it was on rare occasions that I met them. To them, I was their heir but not their son, at least that’s what seemed to be the case.

I often heard the maids or servants whispering in hushed voices past bedtime, that I was lucky. Lucky! Is this what is called being lucky? Maybe that seems to be the case to the outsiders but deep in my heart, I know that all I want is someone who loves me to the moon and back, cherishes me and annoys me with the words “Andrew is silly. He is dumb”

I won’t mind being mocked at if that meant I could have a family that didn’t throw lavish birthday banquets but wished me wholeheartedly. A family that gave me warm smiles even when the temperature outside was chilling down to the bones, and a family that asked me how I felt and not how like an unrefined and unmannered brat I was; that’s the family I desired for yet the expectations on my shoulder didn’t allow me to have the luxury of dreaming.

As  a child I fantasized about being a sailor, voyaging through the seas or discovering new lands that had escaped the human eye or being a scientist and inventing ‘genius potion’. But at a tender age of 4, my schedule for the rest of my schooling years was fixed.

4:00 a.m. - Gymnasium

6:00 a.m. - Weapons and armaments technology

8:00 a.m. - Breakfast

10:00 a.m. - Science classes

12:00 p.m. - Etiquette class

1:00 p.m. - Lunch

2:00 p.m. - Mathematics class

4:00 p.m. - Business studies

5:00 p.m. - Commercial studies

6:00 p.m. - Languages

8:00 p.m. - Dinner

9:00 p.m. - Bedtime

With a schedule as hectic as this, it was impossible for me to find a moment of peace to myself. Waking up even before the alarm rang and sleeping as soon as I hit the bed and passing out from exhaustion became a habit in a span of ten years. It felt ordinary to be praised by the tutors and the workers, yet I never heard my parents praise me like an ordinary kid’s parents would. I … was jealous. Jealous of those that didn’t own a house but had a home, those that didn’t have parents but a family, those that couldn’t afford food but slept with a stomach full of love.

To me, life was a chaotic routine of rising before the sun and drifting into sleep out of tiredness. Despite all this, I … never hated my parents because I knew that to them I was the means to continue their legacy, so I didn’t mind the fact that they didn’t care for me. Perhaps them not liking me (which I knew to be true and not an assumption) was also my fault...

Adrian knew how difficult it was to survive even before he began schooling 2 years back. To Adrian, the worst memory was when his brother had returned from Oklahoma. He was waiting for him to tell him about how he met a friend at school and about how he learnt that not only humans but also animals can sense emotions. But his brother's return wasn't as heartwarming as he had anticipated it to be.

In the middle of the night, when the downpour was the worst, a knock resonated in the little hut. To Adrian's surprise it was the first someone had ever come to their door. He woke up quickly to answer the door but all the blood drained from his body and he couldn't even find any words to understand his situation for he didn't know what situation he had ended up in. His brother whom he had cherished as his only parent and only pillar of support was there at the door looking at him. Nonetheless he didn't expect to see his brother end up in such a situation. His brother was on the steps breathing so faintly that Adrian wouldn't have realized if or not he was living.

He couldn't form words at all. He was stirred to consciousness by a freezing gust of wind. And just as his eyes swelled up with tears, he realised the condition his brother was in.

"Brother! What happened? This... how did you end up like this? We - we must go to the hospital right now. . J-just stay put ,ok?", he said as he crouched with his trembling hands reached out to lift his injured brother.

"Adrian, never I-I have never regretted taking ca-care of you. You are my most tre-treasured possession. I am not your brother. I-I didn't know who you were but I f-felt pity on you when I found you on a subway 13 years back." Having said this he coughed up blood.

"Brother don't worry. I know if not for you I would have been dead. And to me you are the best person, so just don't talk ok. The ambulance is almost here." Adrian stuttered.

" Hah! Your family, it's in New York. And I don't have much time left. Don't cry for me and find your family." He said .

"Brother, you cannot leave me..."

" Kris. My name, remember it, Adr ..." He couldn't even complete his sentence before his soul pledged allegiance to the Almighty.

" No you-you cannot leave me like this brother. " And he bawled his eyes out, reminiscing about the moments they had spent together.

" I assure you that I will kill that person who did this to you, I swear." He vowed to revenge, but he knew better in his heart that what laid before him was the bloody path to revenge.

" I won't return to those people that abandoned me. But I thank them because I met you brother." And he continued to sit their still at the door, as his brother's corpse turned cold and his own limbs went numb...