The Blackest Room

It had been hard for people who didn’t spend every waking hour with him to notice at first. The same smile graced his lips and he talked in the same animated way but Mike knew when the smile was real and when it was forced. He could see when his brother was truly happy and when he acted that way to please the fans. It scared him when he realized a fake smile was plastered to Golf’s face most of the time.

Soon, their family started noticing things. Each night when they returned they would be herded into the dining room for a family dinner but Golf frequently refused and went upstairs. Mike hadn’t minded until he saw how little his brother ate during the day and how skinny he was becoming.

The final straw was the long sleeved shirts in the warmest months. As Mike’s shirts lost there’s, Golf’s increasingly became longer. Mike knew his brother had never done this before; he had always been the one to break out the summer wear long before Mike did. It was obvious that the shirt were causing him to sweat more profusely than normal and Mike did what he thought was right, he tried to help remove it. He hadn’t expected the cry of “leave me alone!” and the sharp slap to the wrist that he received.

Mike sat on his bed contemplating the last month, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he came to the only conclusion he could think of. His brother was falling apart and he didn’t know if he could fix it. It had happened once before, when they were just starting out. The comments from the people that didn’t like them weighted heavily on his mind but Mike had been able to help him through it. This time he didn’t know what it was that was tearing him apart inside. He didn’t know what was going on. He took a deep breath as he hoisted himself up off the mattress.

Each step towards Golf’s door made Mike’s heart beat faster. He gently placed his hand against it, afraid to knock.

“Mike, I know you’re out there,” he heard Golf mumble. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and turned the cool metal door knob. Sticking his head into the room he found Golf sitting on his bed, a neutral look on his face. He made his way into the room, closing the door behind him, and came over to his brother. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could get the words out Golf grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the bed. He straddled Mike’s hips, a hand on his chest to keep him pinned to the comforter. Mike looked up at him with wide eyes that only got bigger and he saw Gold flip open the knife he had been hiding. “Golf,” Mike gasped.

“I’m sorry Mike, but I can’t let you leave,” Golf told him. “You’ll just try to stop me.”

“What are you going to do?” Mike asked. Golf studied his face, tears welling up in his eyes but not falling.

“You don’t deserve this kind of ending, you’re too beautiful. You should have children and a wife,” Golf whispered to him as we slowly brought the blade down to Mike’s neck.

“Why?” Mike croaked, tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes rolling down his cheeks.

“It wasn’t supposed to end this way, but you had to come and interrupt. Why couldn’t you ignore everything like everyone else!? Why did you have to pick tonight to come and see me?” Golf demanded.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” Mike cried.

“I wish you didn’t.”