Lit Mag Poetry

A Typical Sunday

It was the day, at least, I thought it was the day, the prison was finally allowing guests to enter
and see whoever was important to them. And of course, for me, that was my brother. I headed out of the
kitchen after a quickly made breakfast and out the door quietly and nervously. I constantly had second
thoughts and memories too hateful to say. Yet, I still loved him.
After a decent stride across the empty, lifeless crosswalk and around the snow-covered town, the
prison finally came within a visible distance. My legs began to shake, the balls of my feet became
extremely uncomfortable, worse than I have ever experienced before. But, I knew I never should’ve
waited so long to visit him, even if my brain was doubting my decision.
This was the day I would finally stop holding myself back because of my fear. Just the thought of
coming near my brother Dave gave me frightening flashbacks. The times we had constant fights and
arguments all night, I would be lucky if that was all I was doing with my tormenting brother. Yet, through
all of our downs in our childhood, there always was a place in my heart for Dave, and that would never
change. Just yesterday I witnessed my parents fighting, coming back two minutes later to see my mother
in complete disbelief after their dispute, as Dad was so infuriated he smashed the door without a word out
the door. I never got to see my father after that day. I heard rumors he was spotted by a traveler in the
woods, another said he saw him in his car going to work. But, he was never found, as neither of the
witnesses had any clear implication it was him. It was obvious something was up, but I would never
interfere. The good love my family and I used to share had passed, we’ve grown up and apart.
Thirty minutes passed, my head was beginning to ache, and I could not feel my feet, it was like
they were moving on their own. The prison was at long last right in front of me, standing large and tall,
one of the most unpleasant buildings to look at, even for a second. Mud surrounded the entire building,
ivy ran across the walls like a black hole sucking up a galaxy. Then my eyes slowly and cowardly in fear
peeped behind the building to the backyard facility. I never have felt more terrified. Woods upon woods
of trees covered in snow stood in the outlying distance. I wanted to go home, but that wasn’t an option as
a security guard approached me asking if I wanted to come in. Hesitantly and panicky I said yes, as I
fearfully proceeded following the guard.
“Who is it you want to visit sir,” the security guard asked in a firm voice, not looking up from his
I replied, “Dave Outback, sir.”
The security guard looked suddenly, giving me a sorrowful look.
“He’s dead,” the guard replied in a troubled tone.
Suddenly, to my complete confusion and disbelief, I saw my father in the corner of my eye,
standing cold-blooded, gazing upon me through the small window of the cell door, blood on his hands. I
never got to say goodbye. On this dark and mournful day, I hope to never have to look at my father again,
as he is the demon in my brother and my relationship. Although Dave can no longer be with me, I will
continue to live my life, remember all the great ups and downs that are behind us now, and never forget
the one I’ve cared secretly for the most, my brother.

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