\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/412487-The-colour-Green
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Teen · #412487
Yet another english story, it's titled now.
“Hey beanpole! Wake up!”
Jason opened his eyes, a task that seemed to take all the strength in his small frame. He focused upon the hazy image of his older brother, Dave, who now hovered a few inches from Jason’s face.
Dave was built kind of like a refrigerator; his huge shoulders were connected to two rippling arms, which had thrown Jason around on more then one occasion. His hair was shaggy, with a kink all the way around his large head where a ball cap usually sat. The green eyes, which he inherited from their father always had a cold look to them, his glare went beyond cold when he spoke to Jason.

“You gunna lay there all morning, or get up off your lazy behind and go to school?” His deep voice boomed in Jason’s eardrums again.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason moaned in a groggy voice and rolled over, “No need to shout. I’m up.”
“Good.” Dave backed away from the bed, and started toward the door, obviously satisfied that he’d been able to accomplish his goal of annoying his puny little brother. He stopped in his tracks ,and without looking back at Jason grunted, “Hurry up then, Pops is waiting with breakfast.” Then without waiting for a reply he left the room and closed the door behind him.
“Hurry up, Pops has breakfast waiting,” Jason mocked as the door shut.
“If mom were around he’d never get away with calling Dad that,” he thought swinging himself out of the small bed, “What kind of name is ’Pops’ anyway?”, He grumbled as he walked over to a small heap of clothes on the floor.
Jason and Dave had fought for as long as Jason could remember, but the fights had gotten worse after their mother died. Dave had always been the athlete, just like their father had wanted, and Jason was always the one with brains. He walked by the small mirror in his room hardly stopping to look himself over. If Dave was the refrigerator of the family then Jason would probably be best described as the mop. Useful in situations when needed like when Dave needed help with homework so he could go to football practice, but usually forgotten otherwise. His scrawny body wasn’t very good at withstanding too much physical activity, not that he was interested in sports anyway. A pair of hazel eyes were framed by thick rimed glasses, which made his face look twice as thin as it really was. His hair could be described as unruly on the best days, and today wasn’t the best of days.
Running his right hand through the dirt blond locks causing to them fall in front of his eyes, he thought, “I need a haircut”, then shook his head so the newly fallen hair would allow him to see. Looking in the mirror once more before deciding that the hair had a mind of it’s own and wasn’t going to do anything it didn’t want to. Jason finished dressing and headed down stairs.
The smell of bacon and burnt toast filled Jason’s nostrils almost causing him to cough as he entered the sunny kitchen. Dave was already gulping down his breakfast, a sight which would make anyone lose their appetite. Jason’s father stood over the oven frying bacon.
“Good morning son,” he said in a less then affectionate tone, glancing at Jason for a split second, a fake grin plastered on his face, “Sit in, your toast will be ready in a sec.”
“Actually,” Jason mumbled quietly, looking down at his feet ,“I’m not all that hungry.” Refusing food was almost the equivalent to murder as far as Dad was concerned.
Jason was actually a bit hungry, his stomach contracted in protest to not being fed. Swallowing hard in an effort to quiet the beast clawing at his gut, it let out one more rumble before settling. He would have eaten, but the thought of spending another morning listening to Dave rant on about how many girls liked him, and how wonderfully athletic and perfect he was, gave reason enough to refuse a meal no matter how much his stomach complained.
“Humph,” Dave grunted, then muttered sarcastically under his breath, "That's a big surprise.”
Jason clenched his fists and bit his lip. Dave’s opinion wasn’t the one to worry about; he looked at his father who now furrowed his brow, a common sight to Jason. It wasn’t that his father didn’t love him, he just wasn’t sure if he liked him very much. Jason had once thought that his life was like photosynthesis, he had all the things to make his father proud of him but he was living in the darkness cast by Dave’s shadow, and his self esteem was always being plucked off by Dave’s ego. Like a plant with no sun and damaged leaves, it was a nerdy thought but Jason was a nerd so he didn’t expect much else from himself.
“All right then,” his father’s voice became totally monotone, “You can go... study or something before school.”
“Thank you sir,” Jason answered, then went outside to sit on the front step to the house.
“He thinks that all I ever do is study,” Jason grinned at the thought. He was a good student but he never studied, things just came to him easily and he understood it all. “All brains no brawn,” he thought, “I don’t care. I’ll make it further then any jock.”
Dave’s presence looming above brought him out of the mini-trance, and he stood up.
“Come on,” Dave snarled, “We had better catch the bus,” then a devilish grin crossed his face and he added, “Because we know how much you’d hate to miss the bus.”
For years now Dave and his friends had teased Jason, it was like a daily ritual , something that Dave had learned to live with. They weren’t exactly original people and had been using the same insults day after day. Always laughing with each other while Jason tried hard not to laugh right along at the absolute stupidity of the comments.
“Oh look It’s wittle Jason Presley,” the large boy, Troy, who always sat at the back with Dave, began the taunting. He was in grade 12 for the third time . “Third time is the charm.” Jason had once heard him say. Now Troy was staring directly at him waiting for a response. Jason simply nodded, knowing what was coming next.
“What’s the matter Baby Jason?” he taunted ,“Cat got your tongue?”
“I think he does,” another boy agreed.
“He’s probably hungry,” Dave started in, “He wouldn’t eat with the big men today.”
“Awwwwwww,” Troy went on, “What happened this morning Jason?”
“He’s been really quiet since his old lady croaked last year,” the other boy went on.
A sharp pang of hate stabbed Jason in the chest. This was new, they never brought his mother into it. He waited for Dave to say something in defense but instead his ears burned when Dave spoke.
“Well, he always was a momma’s boy.”
Jason clenched his fist and locked his teeth together, trying desperately to fight the tears, which had suddenly flooded his eyes.
“Yeah and I don’t think that Daddy thinks much of him either,” Troy added.
Jason snapped at this point, his face flamed and he stood up spinning around on one heal.
“Oh look Jason wants to say something,” Troy looked directly into Jason’s hazel eyes with a smug look on his face, “What is it baby Jason?”
Jason looked around at the smirking faces, Dave’s included, tears streamed down his face. Unintelligent comments about his looks and clothes were one thing, but brining his mother into it was another.
“Listen to me you incompetent excuse for a human being!” Jason’s voice boomed so loud that for a moment he wasn’t sure it was even his.
“I’ve had just about enough of you and your airhead friends teasing me every day,” His fists were so tight that his knuckles began turning white.
“You have no idea what it’s like being me! My mother died! Yours is still here!” he screamed all the rage of the entire year concentrated in that one powerful voice. “Yes I am smart! Call me a nerd or a geek if you want, but the hardest 5 years of MY education will be University, as opposed to your hardest 5 years being 12th grade!” He tried hard to steady his voice. “Defend yourself now dimwit” Jason thought.
It wasn’t Troy who spoke up; instead it was Dave who stood to face the ball of midget fury that was his little brother.
“I’ve heard just about enough from you, Brat” he said sharply
Jason practically ignored his comment ; turning to look into his brothers cold jade eyes, he said in a voice which had been reduced to nothing more then a shaky, enraged, whisper.
“And you David. In case you forgot, she was your mother too, you cried harder then any of us at the funeral.” Dave’s jaw bone jutted out, Jason had made him angrier then he’d ever seen him. That didn’t matter, he needed to get this out so he ignored the jawbone and kept going.
“You should be ashamed to let these jerks talk about her like that. Or maybe your just like them, and don’t care either”
“Shut up!” Dave’s voice was little more then a rumble in the back of his throat “What do you know anyway, your nothing but a useless beanpole?”
With that Jason, looking directly at his brother, into the eyes that were nearly identical to his fathers, extended his fist. With every last ounce of strength, and hurt ,and anger ,he hit Dave directly in the eye. Causing the larger boy to stumble to the back of the bus and fall down. Dave was just about to get to his feet and whack Jason into another time zone when an angry voice from behind made them both stiffen.
“Boys! Office! NOW!” The bus had apparently stopped at the school long ago and a very angry vice principal stood behind Jason.
Sitting in the lobby awaiting their punishment, the arrival of their father , Jason and Dave were quieter then ever. Dave had a package of frozen peas over his left eye, which had long since swollen shut. As their father strutted into the lobby, glaring coldly at his sons ,the two boys were lead into the office. Then just before they reached the door that held certain doom. Jason heard something that he never thought he would hear. Dave’s voice was steady and so quiet Jason could barley hear him when he said.
“Hey man, I’m sorry”








© Copyright 2002 ~Enigma~ (enigma at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/412487-The-colour-Green