Chapter 1

Damn it.

Rain.

Again.

"Fuck, Jason, why does it always have to rain?" I asked my older brother.

"Because we live in Seattle…?" he tells me.

"Oh. Right." I sigh. "Fuck."

"Hey, you're the one who moved us here."

"Don't go blaming me!"

"Well Mum said you could pick if we should move here or Florida, and you picked here."

"Damn it. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I told you to pick Florida."

I pause. Then, "Fuck."

If only I had picked Florida, none of this would ever have happened. If only I had picked Florida, I wouldn't be peering out the window, praying for the rain to stop. If only I had picked Florida I wouldn't be miserable all the time. And I sure as hell wouldn't have to pick my dazed, drunken brother up off of the back ally ways.

"Fuck," I curse, standing up. I look away from the window. "It's past ten and he's not back yet."

Jason sighs. "Want me to go get him?"

"I'll do it," I grumble, grabbing my coat and umbrella. "If I'm not back by midnight, assume the worse. I might have been struck by lighting. Or have killed myself. Or both. Damn, stupid rain."

"Nate," Jason starts, causing me to turn around, "be careful."

I nod and open the door. The wind howls and thunder booms as lightning lights up the sky. Fuck, I hate Seattle. I open my umbrella and head out to my car.

I open the car door and try my best not to get rain in the car.

That's one of the things I absolutely hate the most. When it's raining and water gets on your seat. Because then you have to sit on it and your ass gets all wet.

I sigh and get out of my car when I get downtown to the sketchy section with all the bars, and grab the flashlight from he backseat of my car, locking the door.

"Shane!" I call, looking down a dark and scary ally. "Fuck it Shane, where the hell are you?" I go down the ally behind the bar he usually goes to.

I open up a lid of a trashcan and my drunken brother falls out onto the pavement with a clatter.

"Where am I?" he asks, dazed.

"Passed out in a trashcan way after my bed time," I reply, getting a banana peel out of is hair.

"What happened?" Shane mutters, attempting to open his eyes.

"Get in the car," I demand.

My brother attempts to stand up and hangs onto me for dear life when he loses his balance.

"Where are they? Where are the purple monkeys?" Shane slurs.

"At home," I tell him, dragging him off.

"No… no, I threw a pancake – a pancake in the river!"

I look at my brother, very confused. "Shane… are you high?"

He responds with a rather loud belch.

I look in his eyes. "Your pupils are fully dilated – you are high. Damn it, what did you take?"

Shane ponders for a second. He sticks his tongue out a bit to the side, thinking intently. "Pink elephant…?" he guesses.

"Shane, that's not a real drug."

"Yes it is."

"Get in the car."

"Yes sir." Shane stumbles around, trying to find the car. I grab his shoulders when he tries to open a brick wall and lead him over to the car, opening it and shoving my brother inside, putting his seatbelt on for him. He mumbles something incoherent and I close the door.

I go around to the other side of the car, but right as I open the door, I hear someone scream. I quickly look up and hear more screaming.

Should I drive away quickly and not get involved? Should I help whomever it is that's screaming? It sounds like a chick.

I'm pretty sure that if I walk away then I hear on the news tomorrow that this person died, I would never forgive myself.

"Stay here," I say to Shane, who just mumbles something about dragons. I lock the car and get the flashlight, looking around.

Then the screaming stops. When I turn the corner, I hear someone crying, so I run down the ally and my flashlight shines right on some chick sitting by the wall, her body folded over in pain, and she was holding her side.

"Are you okay?" I ask, careful not to get to close. I don't want to spook the girl.

She looks up at me, tears pouring out of her blue eyes. She has blood running down her face just like in a horror movie, and her blonde hair splashed with mud. She has plenty of cuts and scrapes on her arms, and her jeans were ripped and covered in dirt and blood.

When she doesn't respond, I inch closer to her.

"Don't hurt me!" she cries, trying to shield herself with one of her hands.

"No, I'm not gonna hurt you," I tell her. I crouch down on my knees. "Should I call 9-1-1?"

"It hurts!" she sobs out, holding her side.

"What?" I ask, frantically, getting worried. I go closer to her. "What happened?"

This just makes her start crying even harder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I quickly defend. "Just stop crying!"

She shakes her head and starts sobbing and screaming.

"Talk to me!" I yell over her screaming. "Should I call someone?"

The girl shakes her head 'yes.'

"Should I call 9-1-1 or do you want me to call your parents or something? Because you're not giving me a lot to work with here."

"Call 9-1-1!" she screams.

"Okay, okay!" I say and take out my phone, dialing the number.

"Hurry up, dammit! It hurts!"

"I'm going!"

When I hang up the phone she's still bawling.

"What happened?" I ask. Maybe I can get it out of her now.

"Damn it, what the fuck are you doing just sitting there asking me questions?! Help me!"

"Well what do you want me to do!?"

"It fuckin' hurts, you asshole!"

"Well I didn't do anything to you!"

"Fuck you! Help me! God dammit!"

"I don't understand!"

She just screams again.

"Okay, okay, just stop screaming – you're gonna make me go deaf!" I crawl over to her. "Look, just stop crying and I'll-"

"Fuck you!"

"I'm trying to help you! You just gotta stop screaming at me and maybe I'll accomplish something!"

She stops screaming and all I can hear is soft whimpering and the sound of the rain falling on the ground.

"Okay… good…" I exhale a sigh as if a mission were accomplished. "Can you tell me what happened now?"

The girl shakes her head. "It hurts… it hurts so much."

"I know, I know," I soothe, scotching up next to you. "But I'm gonna stay right here next to you. Okay? I'm not gonna leave. Just hang in there."

She nods and sniffs occasionally, whimpering.

I let out a sigh of relief when I hear sirens.

X X X

When I go back to my car, I see Shane there, snoring. When I get in and slam the door, he wakes up, startled.

"I don't have the money, I swear," he says, looking around.

I start the car and drive home.

Fuck Seattle.

When we arrive home, I drag Shane up to the front door and we both go inside. "Bed," I command, pointing to the couch.

Shane grunts and goes over to the couch, plopping down.

I toss a blanket over him and he starts snoring away again.

Jason comes in the room. "Well you made it back alive."

"Somewhat," I say. "So who's gonna stay up tonight?"

"It's you're night."

"Fuck…"

Jason and I have to switch off staying up all night to make sure Shane doesn't choke on his own vomit in the middle of the night.

God, I am so pissed.

"Well goodnight Jason," I say through tightly clenched teeth. All I want to do is sleep. I'm exhausted and I don't want to stay up with my irresponsible asshole of a brother all night.

Jason gives me a half smile and heads upstairs.

I plop myself down on the other couch and turn on the TV.

Shane stirs a bit, so I look over at him. He opens his eyes. "Whoa… How did I get here?"

"Magic," I say sarcastically.

"Whoa. Fuck. Dude." He then stands up. "Oh man I'm gonna hurl."

I hop off of the couch. "Not on the floor, you're not!" I grab the trashcan and shove it at him.

Shane puts it down on the ground and vomits into it a few times.

"Sweet Jesus…" he breathes.

"Mmm hmm…"

"Fuck. I feel like… fuck."

"You always do. Maybe if you stopped drinking, you'd feel better."

He barfs again.

"You know what?" I say, fed up. "I'm done with this. I hope you choke and die. I'm going to bed. The smell of your vomit is getting to me." I storm upstairs and lock my door.

I back up against the locked door, close my eyes, and let out a long sigh. I slide down the door slowly and pull my arms around my knees, tucking my head under my arms.

Damn it, why did we move to Seattle?