Voice from the Past

Joe stood shuffling through a stack of papers and items. He had gathered everything up when he left the foster home. Everything.

Joe pulled another box towards himself where he sat on the floor in his tiny one room flat. He swallowed down a lump when he saw the box was labeled 'Alec.' He gently opened the flaps on the top and looked over a confusion of papers and assorted bits of the past.

Joe lingered over the papers, reading his brothers words, hearing his voice in his head. As Joe reached into the box for the final load of papers, his fingers encountered a book that was somewhat thicker than the normal composition books that had been filled with snatches of prose and bits of poetry.

The book was large and Joe could tell immediately that it was some kind of journal. Joe closed his eyes and flipped the book open to where the bookmark was inserted, to where Alec had written his thought for the last time.

'September 20

I've just been accepted to Purdue. I don't know though if I will go. Joe needs me here. The old man is such a bastard. I can't bear to think what he would do, what he would do worse if I were to leave. I can't do that to Joe. He's so innocent sometimes. I hate to see what the world is doing to him. Everyday I see the sparkle lessen in his eyes. Everyday that he has to face down the Bastard, every time he gets a beating. I can take it. I know eventually Joe would be able to bear that too, but he shouldn't have to. I will make a deal with the Bastard. He leaves Joe alone and he had whup me as much as he wants. I want Joe to have a happy life; well at least as happy as it can be, all things considered.
I won't go to Purdue. I won't leave Joe to that Bastard. the local college will be good enough for me. And when I get a good paying job, me and Joe will move out to a simple apartment, and Joe can just be a kid.'

Joe felt the salt drying on his cheek hours later, felt the tightening of the skin, the tightening of his heart. He gently placed the journal back into the box and placed it on a high shelf. A memory to be stored and returned to later.