out of there, quick. Noticing his old wooden bat lying off to his right side, he made a lunge for it. With slugger in hand, he turned to swing it on Wayne, but his brother was no longer there. All he heard was the sound of his bedroom door closing, as Wayne slipped out.
With pure adrenaline flowing through his veins, he gathered himself up off the floor, and collapsed on the bed, in a heap. And then he started to cry. All the years of anguish at dealing with Wayne flooded out through his eyes, soaking his pillow. He cried for what seemed like an eternity, until he heard his mom calling from downstairs, saying dinner was ready.
When Kevin made it to the table for dinner, his mom immediately asked, “Are you okay, son?”
“I’m just not feeling too good.”
“I hope you’re not coming down with something.” Wayne decided to take another jab, as he said,
“Maybe it was from that pillow fight we had earlier.”
Giving him a look of death, Kevin said, “Pillow fights are better when you actually know you’re having one.”
No one else in the room but Wayne understood the comment, but Kevin didn’t care. He decided that very minute that he would find a way to end their little game for good. The humming inside his head seemed to take on a joyful note once he made the decision to take Wayne’s life; almost as if it were celebrating the idea.
About three months later, Kevin happened upon a pile of rat poisoning that his dad had put out to keep the rodents away from the straw they’d stored up to feed the cattle through the winter. He’d seen movies where the stuff had been used to poison humans, so he thought it might work on Wayne. He quickly dismissed the idea, and was actually a little ashamed that he’d even thought of it in the first place. Later that same afternoon, Wayne tripped him and shoved him headfirst into the back door as they were coming in from the fields.
Sitting on his bed rubbing his head, Kevin plotted how to get the poison into Wayne’s food. For dinner that night he volunteered to help set the table. He’d snuck out earlier, taken six pellets of the rat poisoning, grinded them down into a greenish looking powder, and placed it in a small crayon box from his room. “Can I go ahead and scoop everyone’s food onto their plates, mom?”
“I usually like to let everyone serve themselves, Kevin. You never know who wants what around here.”
“Please, just this one time, mom?”
“I guess so, since you’ve been such a big help with dinner tonight.”
Making sure his back was to his mom, Kevin quickly scooped Wayne out a hearty helping of chicken, and mashed potatoes filled with rat poison . With the contents of the crayon box completely emptied out in the potatoes, he quickly stirred them up, to hide his sin.
When his dad prayed a blessing over the food, he almost lost his nerve and called the whole thing off. But seeing the smirk on Wayne’s face as he looked over at him caused him to dismiss his doubt. Wayne tore into the chicken and potatoes with such vigor that Kevin actually began to wonder if he’d put enough poison in them.
Throughout the meal, and afterwards while they had dessert, Kevin kept a watchful eye on his brother. When he saw Wayne grab his stomach, he prayed no one would figure out what he’d done. The guilt and fear held him in its grasp for many long hours following the dreadful episode.
As the night droned on, Wayne eventually excused himself for a bathroom break. That break lasted over twenty minutes, the longest twenty minutes of Kevin’s life. His mind ran through a gambit of thoughts on what was going on behind that closed door, none of which brought him joy.
“Are you okay in there, boy? Your dessert’s getting cold. You can’t let apple pie sit out like this, son.” Kevin’s dad yelled, causing him to jump.
Kevin immediately pictured Wayne lying face down next to the toilet, dead.
When no reply came, his father got up to investigate.
Kevin
With pure adrenaline flowing through his veins, he gathered himself up off the floor, and collapsed on the bed, in a heap. And then he started to cry. All the years of anguish at dealing with Wayne flooded out through his eyes, soaking his pillow. He cried for what seemed like an eternity, until he heard his mom calling from downstairs, saying dinner was ready.
When Kevin made it to the table for dinner, his mom immediately asked, “Are you okay, son?”
“I’m just not feeling too good.”
“I hope you’re not coming down with something.” Wayne decided to take another jab, as he said,
“Maybe it was from that pillow fight we had earlier.”
Giving him a look of death, Kevin said, “Pillow fights are better when you actually know you’re having one.”
No one else in the room but Wayne understood the comment, but Kevin didn’t care. He decided that very minute that he would find a way to end their little game for good. The humming inside his head seemed to take on a joyful note once he made the decision to take Wayne’s life; almost as if it were celebrating the idea.
About three months later, Kevin happened upon a pile of rat poisoning that his dad had put out to keep the rodents away from the straw they’d stored up to feed the cattle through the winter. He’d seen movies where the stuff had been used to poison humans, so he thought it might work on Wayne. He quickly dismissed the idea, and was actually a little ashamed that he’d even thought of it in the first place. Later that same afternoon, Wayne tripped him and shoved him headfirst into the back door as they were coming in from the fields.
Sitting on his bed rubbing his head, Kevin plotted how to get the poison into Wayne’s food. For dinner that night he volunteered to help set the table. He’d snuck out earlier, taken six pellets of the rat poisoning, grinded them down into a greenish looking powder, and placed it in a small crayon box from his room. “Can I go ahead and scoop everyone’s food onto their plates, mom?”
“I usually like to let everyone serve themselves, Kevin. You never know who wants what around here.”
“Please, just this one time, mom?”
“I guess so, since you’ve been such a big help with dinner tonight.”
Making sure his back was to his mom, Kevin quickly scooped Wayne out a hearty helping of chicken, and mashed potatoes filled with rat poison . With the contents of the crayon box completely emptied out in the potatoes, he quickly stirred them up, to hide his sin.
When his dad prayed a blessing over the food, he almost lost his nerve and called the whole thing off. But seeing the smirk on Wayne’s face as he looked over at him caused him to dismiss his doubt. Wayne tore into the chicken and potatoes with such vigor that Kevin actually began to wonder if he’d put enough poison in them.
Throughout the meal, and afterwards while they had dessert, Kevin kept a watchful eye on his brother. When he saw Wayne grab his stomach, he prayed no one would figure out what he’d done. The guilt and fear held him in its grasp for many long hours following the dreadful episode.
As the night droned on, Wayne eventually excused himself for a bathroom break. That break lasted over twenty minutes, the longest twenty minutes of Kevin’s life. His mind ran through a gambit of thoughts on what was going on behind that closed door, none of which brought him joy.
“Are you okay in there, boy? Your dessert’s getting cold. You can’t let apple pie sit out like this, son.” Kevin’s dad yelled, causing him to jump.
Kevin immediately pictured Wayne lying face down next to the toilet, dead.
When no reply came, his father got up to investigate.
Kevin
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