In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends
- Martin Luther King

       Everything that followed was a huge fuck fest. I was charged with attempted murder amidst other minor charges like driving under the influence. The gun was licensed so at least I wasn't charged for that.

Mrs. Summers, Meghan's mom never really liked me. She was intent on making sure I spent the rest of my miserable life in jail, not even sparing me the slightest detail about how Meghan was doing and I understood her.

Maybe it was the four bleak walls of a cell but eventually, my eyes opened to the fact that I was a disaster on two feet and everybody knew it, everyone could see it.

Ticking bomb. That is what the psychologist they had me see called me. Meghan's mom was dropping all charges, on the condition that I went to rehab for a year.

Getting away was a welcomed idea, even if it was to a mad house filled with people who didn't really care, it was better than jail. The facility was hours out of town, I wasn't even allowed to go home before that. I was transported straight down from the station.

     Everything was white and grey and once they concluded their tests on me, I was assigned to a therapist, a skinny, wrinkly black lady with bulging eyes and stretchy lips. I didn't like her. For the first week, she'd ask me questions that I just ignored.

"Why'd you drink so much?"
"The toxicology level in your blood is alarming".
I wouldn't have been there if it wasn't.
"What about the drugs? How are you coping with the withdrawal?"
I was going insane.

There were no mirrors in the bathroom, we ate with plastic forks, even the shaving razors were fucking plastic but that didn't stop me. The plastic chair in my room had been changed twice and the scratch marks down my arms were visible.

"I'm doing great". I'd always tell her and she'd sigh.

She never asked me why I had done it, why I'd shot my ex-girlfriend and it angered me. She looked at me with empty eyes that I'd have preferred were filled with hate, that too angered me.

Tyler had been laid to rest without me, probably loathing me too. I failed him, I couldn't avenge him, instead I shot a girl who had done so much for our family. Meghan Summers was family and I had hurt her, that was unforgivable.

     My psychologist gave up on me after two weeks of silence, forcing me into group therapy with sickly old men and weepy teenagers. Hearing their stories was mundanely entertaining. Everyone talked about regrets and hope for a better future.

That was the difference between me and them. I had no hope, no future, just deep-seated regret that didn't let me contribute at these meetings.

Most of the teenagers were friendly and the adults didn't have the judgy look of most parents and while that made me feel comfortable, it wasn't enough to open up to anybody.

    Two months. That is how long I stayed there without getting a visitor, not even a phone call. I had gotten used to being without the drinks and occasional drugs, getting into the act of a recovering addict.

I spent my days playing basketball with some of the other boys and girls, watching TV and reading monotonous books.

When a visitor finally came, I wasn't as enthusiastic as I'd thought I would be and when I saw the smiling face of my sister, I frowned.

She hugged me fiercely and didn't complain when I didn't hug her back. She dived right into talking.

"I waited so long to see you but they wouldn't let me until after two months. Such bullshit. Jake came with me, he's waiting outside because he didn't think... "

My ears had perked up.
"Jake? Why?"

My sister's smile slowly dropped.
"Travis". She breathed.

"What? Pokello".

"We know, everyone does".
My heart was beating out of rhythm and I wondered who was counted as everyone.

"Know what?" I forced myself to ask.

"About you two". I caste my eyes down to my trembling arms.

"How?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

"Jake told Meghan and she told me but Greg overhead and you know he doesn't keep anything from Chris and... "

"Stop". I ordered.

"Travis".
I stayed silent, Jake promised he wasn't gonna tell anyone, especially not my family. They hated me, it's why none of them were here.

"You could have told me, you know I don't care about stuff like that. You could have told me about everything else too, the drugs? I thought I knew you better than that. Travis, I don't care if you are gay".

"I'm not!"

Pokello was used to my outbursts, she didn't even flinch.

"So now you are friends with Jake? Did he also tell you that he knew his best friend was going to kill our brother? Why didn't he speak up then?"

"Travis. Zayn didn't kill Ty". She stated calmly.

"What?"

"It was a misunderstanding".

"What does that even mean?"

"Ultimately, it means that the twins are behind bars".

"What?"

"Zayn busted the gangs".

"Of course he did, that slimy son of a bitch".

"The gang was shady business, you can't put that on him. I asked the twins to leave, severally".

"For God's sake Kello, they are our blood".

"They killed people". She deadpanned, staring at me with a frown line on her forehead.

I was speechless because I couldn't defend them regardless of how much I wanted to. We grew up without guidance, they did what they felt they had to do to survive.

They did it as big brothers so Pokello, Tyler and I wouldn't have to do it. It was wrong, they could have done better, we all just didn't know how.

"You shouldn't have come, Kello".

She leaned back on her seat.
"Yeah? Why?"

"I shot your best friend, for no reason". She scoffed.

"What should I have done? Sit in a friggin huge house with a brother who hasn't said a word in ten fucking years? Look Travis, I know you are going through shit but so am I so get over it!

I lost a brother to death, two to jail and the other acts like the bloody walking dead. I'm not about to lose the only person I have left in the world to fucking drugs".

She rose, knocking her seat over in her state of anger.

"I need you bro, please".

     All my life, Pokello had been my priority. I'd drive her to school, help with groceries so she wouldn't have to and attend all her basketball games, it was I who introduced her to the game.

I used to beat up guys who looked at her weird so hearing her hurt, it gave me a reason to want to get better so I could go home to her. I requested for my therapist again, this time willing to be cooperative.

She quietly watched me as I took a seat in her tiny office.

"Mr. Harden, I gather you've been doing fairly well. I must say I'm a little surprised you requested to see me again".

I decided to go with as much honesty as I could manage.

"There is too much noise in my head".

         Pokello visited three times every week. I managed to talk her into coming only on Saturdays because of school but then she'd stay too long.

I was relieved knowing Jake was the one driving her home. He came with her all the time, waiting for the day I'd agree to see him, that day never came.

I tried to tell myself that it was because I was still angry but I knew it was shame, I didn't want him to see me like that.

After a year, our house still looked the same, the house we had made into a home. It wasn't extravagant but hardly modest, Trevor had been twenty when he got it.

Pokello had come alone to get me, Jake had a game which I was grateful for. I was just surprised that she had a license, she always had someone to drive her around.

The house was eerily quiet as I looked around the living room to the stairs where Tyler was usually say, snacking on something gross. Pokello said they had incinerated his corpse, as he always joked and scattered his ashes at the back of our compound.

Heavy footsteps trudging in from the kitchen caused me to tense up. Trevor, clad in just sweatpants strode in with a glass of juice.

"Hey Trev". Pokello greeted but he kept staring at me before leaving without a word, as usual.

"Don't fret, he'll come around". Pokello said before leaving to fix us lunch.

He never came around, Trevor had always been ghostly but now I could feel him consciously avoiding me. I only needed him to say it was okay but it wasn't.

He hated me, just like my mama would have and I couldn't live there knowing that so I packed up. Pokello left for college with her boyfriend, just three hours away from her bestfriend and I had nothing else to stay for.

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Four more chapters.
I can't believe how far we've come
See y'all on Monday❤