It took quite a good year or two for Dayn to fully grasp the level of depravity his early adolescence was wrought with. He could remember months after, his father raising his voice at him over something completely unrelated - probably him doing something he shouldnβt have, like not finishing homework or getting into trouble of some sort - and he automatically turned from his father, as if waiting for something of his choice to strike at his back. Heβll never forget the look on his fatherβs face after that, and they both had an unspoken agreement to just never bring it up again.Β
That didn't even include all the language, the vernacular of the charges brought against Arthur. His parents werenβt the ones to sit him down and elaborate on what it all meant, matching charge to punishment. It was a lawyer and a child psychologist, and then days later, when he was alone, looking up online what it all meant. He hadnβt wanted to talk about it - it was bad, he knew it was, and the severity of just how bad didnβt come for a few years. By then, he had barely spoken of it anyway and had made a pact with himself that it was better left buried. Maybe there was some sort of instinct in him to shield his brother from that - no matter how close they were, how quickly Joel entered the world after him, he still referred to him as a little brother, that sensitive kid on the playground drawing with chalk instead of playing kickball with the rest. Dayn had grown up too quick, and quicker still after he had escaped, as if he was making up for lost time. There was almost a competition-like aspect of it, to prove to other people he was fine - more than fine, pursuing physical relationships, sneaking into concerts, anything that struck him - and it granted him more than a few run-ins with the city police.Β
The inner turmoil swirling around him then dissipated some when he saw Joel stand and move over towards his bed. Somehow, even before he opened it from the way it was folded, Dayn knew what it was. His eyes shut, and a long exhale left him before he could help himself. That letter; that godforsaken letter that got the both of them stranded here. Arthur had to just take one more thing from him, didnβt he? The words surprised him though. βYou didnβt? Why?β Respect where it was earned, but Dayn would have read it all. Even if it hurt. He poured over every line, one at a time, for days until it was time to read it aloud; it was practically memorized by this point, and he wondered where Joel decided to stop, when it got too much to stomach.
This simple piece of paper felt heavy in Daynβs hand, so he extended it back to Joel. βRead the rest of it?β he asked. Maybe it was for the best, that it was an opening sort of bridge that Dayn couldnβt stomach to say out loud. If the basics were covered, maybe heβd feel okay enough to continue on, and to answer long dormant questions. βIt does matter, and itβs fine. It got us here, so you might as well know why.β A long pause, and Dayn couldnβt quite look him in the eye just yet. βYou can read it. And then you can ask me stuff. I canβt promise it wonβt piss me off or whatever, but you can.β For him, he'd try. "Or if you have nothing to ask you can yell at me for keeping quiet, I'll take that, too."
