Generation 3, Chapter 2

Attention: Music tracks are provided for you to click on should you want to listen to what Gibson is listening to. While I was writing it, it seemed to go well enough with the words that you could probably read while listening since there are no lyrics and it gives you a better feel of what he describes, but of course it’s up to you. You can choose to listen while reading, listen later, or not listen at all. Thanks!

___________________________________________________

Gibson’s POV

Going to the bookstore was probably one of my most favored things to do. I worked here as well, yet I often came here on my days off and read for a few hours. I loved getting out of the house as much as I could when I knew Gareth would have women over, it’s incredibly annoying to hear the moans of a woman when you aren’t the one causing them. Plus, I liked to get away from that stupid mutt, Jess, Gareth’s precious little spawn of Cerberus. I hated that dog more than anything, she constantly chews on my books and other belongings, all the while pissing on it when she’s done like she’s proving a point. Whenever I’m out of the house, I make sure to either lock her in the dog crate downstairs or lock her in Gareth’s bedroom. 

My favorite books to read were mostly biographies, I loved to read about people’s lives and what they chose to do with them, all the while finding out what ultimately came down to their cause of death. I wonder, if I ever have a biography of my own, would it be a top seller for what I’ve been through so far? I always imagined I’d die young, so the book wouldn’t end up being very long, but I’d be a liar to say I wasn’t curious on how it would end. As I read about others, seeing the millions of different ways a life can be led, it amazes me to see that not one are close to being the same. My story’s unique as well in a way.

I’ve been at the bookstore for roughly 3 hours, taking a break from my read and I glance out the window in front of me and notice it’s started to rain. As much as I don’t want to leave, since I know it’s still early and knowing Gareth still had company, I reluctantly closed my book and put it back in its exact spot, lining the book just right in sync with the others that stood on either side.

I wait outside for a cab that I’ve called, not being able to use the car since Gareth dropped me off and probably still had it. I had called him to see if he could come and pick me up, but it went straight to voice mail. I let out a long sigh, standing in the gentle rain, wanting to get home before it got any worse and I knew I’d be stranded here thanks to Gareth. At times like this where I had nothing to keep my mind occupied, I thought of my own life and what I was going through. Living in the same town as my nut-case Father but barely seeing him, an ex-girlfriend that slept with my brother that I’m bound to awkwardly run into at any time, not to mention Bennu and Bahiti’s dependence on me since I’m the only one from the family that’s tried hard to keep in touch with them after we all had seemingly gone our separate ways.. I thought moving here would be a change for the better, but things have only gotten worse.

Driving home never took very long, it was a small town and it was easy to get anywhere you wanted to go here. Although I was out of the rain, I somewhat wished I had walked home just so it would take a while longer to get there. Our home was the only one on the left side of the dock, there was an old woman that lived across from us, a woman and her young daughter next to that and the first belonged to one of Gareth and I’s friend, Ezra. He comes over from time to time to hang out and he and Gareth go out to bars a lot. There are some nights that they go out together and I’d suspect Gareth to come home drunk, but sometimes he’s unusually sober; it makes me wonder what exactly they do together.

I get inside and I hear my stomach growl, realizing I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast and I walk in passed my stairs and Gareth’s to get to the kitchen. At the moment, I could only hear the muffled sound of voices downstairs in his bedroom, realizing he was home and as I’ve guessed, still had company. I went to the fridge and took out leftovers of my Ratatouille dish I had made the night before, happy that it hadn’t been eaten yet. I made the meals, bought groceries, got the car fixed whenever it needed it, cleaned up the house, did laundry, everything. All Gareth does is sit at home sleeping with anything he can get his hands on and barely ever cleans up after Jess, either. I end up taking care of her more than him even with him knowing I despise her. 

I was glad that Jess was still in her cage and Gareth hadn’t let her out yet. I enjoyed eating my meals in peace without a beggar at my side demanding at my food with whimpers and gentle barks. She annoyed me so much, she never did things like this to Gareth and it really made me wonder if she knew that I hated her and she just liked torturing me. I’ve been trying to teach myself to ignore her, however, and it’s been somewhat paying off. All that I really need to do is kick at her a little in her direction to shoo her away and she usually runs off, it’s just the things she does while I’m out that pisses me off the most because I’m not there to stop her and I know Gareth won’t do anything about it. 

As I was finishing my meal, I began to hear a woman’s laughter downstairs and that was my cue to go to my room. I got up readily and washed my dish in the sink and the moment I finished and turned the faucet off, I could hear Gareth’s bed knocking into the wall through the floor and I sighed heavily. I walked quickly out of the kitchen and nearly tripped over Jess on the ground chewing on a toy, Gareth must’ve let her out of the cage and she came up without me noticing. “Jesus, Jess.. Get the hell out of the way,” I voiced angrily, seeing her not give a single care in the world and I angrily made my way upstairs to my room.

I played one of my classical mixed discs in the music player, turning it up louder than it needed to be to drown out my brothers activities. The woodwind and brass, string and percussion helped calm me, sitting in my single chair within the room and indulging in the sound. I could get lost in a world of my own when this type of music was on, it made me feel things I’ve never felt before. The gentle song of Mozart, ‘ Eine Kleine Nachtmusik: Allegro’ had to be one of my favorites when I was in a bad mood. It made me picture the beginning of a love story, a man noticing a beautiful woman and going through so many things to get her attention; giving her flowers, proclaiming his love, constantly after her hand, and finally, asking her to dance. Once she reluctantly accepts, it goes swimmingly and he makes sure of it. Twirling her around, dipping her at just the right times, wowing her to the sound and flow of the music until finally it ends, and by then, she’s fallen in love with him. 

The next song that came on was by Orff, ‘Carmina Burana: O Fortuna.’ This was one song that always made me think horrifying things. The beginning was so grim and eerie, I often pictured a man walking through a terrible storm, coming in through the door of his home in the deep, secluded woods. Once the vocals soften, he walks downstairs, going to a lab and the door opens to find two beds on either side of the room with gutted and bloody woman lying dead on both. Once the man steps aside, a third girl is revealed, sitting on the ground tied to a pole. The knife emerges from the front pocket of his leather apron, walking towards her slowly with a grin upon his lips. Finally, he reaches her, kneeling down on the ground and she looks up to him, her eyes begging for mercy and the next thing to happen before it ends is the downward rush of his hand holding the knife and just before it meets her, the scene ends. My heart was racing, my breathing was heavy and quickened and I shook my head gently to grasp reality. I needed air. 

I walked out of my room onto my patio as Barber‘s ‘Adagio For Strings’ began to play and I left the slide door open so I could hear it better. I had forgotten momentarily that I hated listening to depressing songs when there was something bothering me, ultimately my mind going to my ex. I can imagine the day we broke up like it was yesterday. A month ago, I had came home from work drained, customers nagging and the stress of it all wearing me down. I come inside and I walked passed the kitchen, seeing her standing there fixing herself something to eat in her undergarments. She seemed happy, energized, yet flush in the face. I asked what she was doing here, seeing her expression grow morbid the moment she heard my voice and I had known just by the regretful look in her eyes that she had done something wrong. Going downstairs to my brothers room instantly, I could hear her following quickly behind me, trying to get me to stop but there was no use. I threw open his door and was greeted by the smell of infidelity, seeing him lying on his bed in his underwear smoking a cigarette, worn out and tired with a subtle accomplished grin upon his lips. When he looked to me, I saw in his face that he already knew I had found out and his smug grin faded within seconds.

Rushing to put his smoke out and leaping from his bed, he rushed to me and tried to calm me, but there was no use. I lashed out, yelling at him, cursing, making a fool of myself. She tried to hold me back, but I couldn’t help myself. Shoving her away with my right hand, I brought it back forward and hit Gareth straight in the jaw, causing him to fall upon his floor and I stood there looking down at him, seeing him in no attempt to get up as we shared resentful glares and I rushed out of his room. Yelling at her to leave and let me be, she began to cry and grabbed her clothes, rushing up the stairs before me and I heard the front door slam shut behind her. I looked back to my brother, slowly standing to his feet and touching his bottom lip with the back of his hand, seeing a smear of blood mirroring his small injury and he looked to me. Remorse was in his eyes, but I couldn’t forgive him, not now. Maybe not ever.

I came into my bedroom as ‘Funeral March’ by Chopin began to play, walking to my dresser with a slow pace after shutting my sliding door. I changed my clothes and removed my glasses, putting them upon the dresser and standing there a moment, listening to the darkness of it, the way it made death seem terrifying yet at some times it sounded pleasant and welcoming. Euphoric in a way.

The song ended and was followed by Saint-Seans‘ ‘Carnival Of The Animals: Aquarium’. Whimsical, yet weary and distraught. I laid in my bed, still thinking of her and what she had done to me, though I never truly did find out if she was to blame or if it was my brother. All signs point to Gareth, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something I did, if I was the reason she felt the need to stray from something I believed was working. Was I not giving her enough attention? Had I done something that made her mad and drove her to feel the need for something I wasn’t giving her? What in God’s name did Gareth have that I didn’t?

I knew the song had changed, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore. I should be over her by now, why was I wasting my time on something I didn’t want back? She slept with my brother and that’s it, there’s no room for apologies or sad feelings, only resentment and the need to forget. But I wasn’t willing to forgive, not yet. I loved my brother, but the things he does goes too far sometimes and he doesn’t care about the terrible domino effect it causes. I never thought he’d betray me, at least not in this manner. We shared a lot of things but women were something sacred between us and we took pride in looking at one another’s catch, yet withholding from touching. Now with that broken, I don’t know if I can even trust a girl again around my brother, or my brother around them.

I heard voices downstairs at the bottom of my staircase over my music, knowing it was Gareth saying goodnight to his latest catch and I then heard my name being called after she had gone, “Gibs, you up there?” He asked, but I didn’t respond. “Gibson!” He shouted a little, but I didn’t respond again, acting as if the music drowned out his voice. I could hear his loud footsteps stomping up the stairs and I sighed heavily, hearing him reach the top and he turned down my music to the point where I could barely make it out and hearing him toss the remote to it on my chair. “Got that shit loud enough, bro?” He asked, “How can you even listen to that? It’s just instruments that make you feel depressed,” he continued. How could he even feel anything..?

“I happen to enjoy it. Leave me alone, please,” I replied quietly.

“Come onnn.. All you’ve been doing lately is moping around your room, come have a drink with me,” he tried to encourage.

“I’m really not in the mood for such a thing,” I answered, trying to get him to leave me alone.

“Because this music is what kills you. Just one drink and I guarantee you’ll feel better,” he persisted and I made a agitated sigh I knew he could hear.

“Gareth, I’d like to refrain from speaking with you for as long as I can.. I only spoke to you the other day to be nice to Nina and because you persisted to dangle her in front of me.”

“Who?” Gareth wondered and I let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“Purple colored hair, short and innocent, defiled unwillingly in your bedroom,” I reminded him with a sharp tongue.

“Oh.. I haven’t seen her since, but she keeps texting me. It’s starting to get really annoying,” he replied as if we were talking normally in an uncaring manner.

“Can you please just.. Leave me alone?” I requested again.

“Jesus.. Are you seriously still pissed about that girl you were dating?” He asked with aggravation.

“I’m surprised you still remember her,” I retorted shortly, “Though I doubt you remember her name.”

There was a long silence from him and I shut my eyes, trying to cover my face more and make it obvious that I don’t want to talk. He finally voiced himself, but it wasn’t about proving to me that he knew her name when he had to have at least known I dated her for three months. “Look, it doesn’t matter, she was a slut.. If anything, I helped you realize quicker that she wasn’t good for you,” he replied and I grew angrier.

“Shut the hell up, Gareth.. Get out of my room. Shut the light off on your way out and turn my music back up,” I demanded, leaving no room for him to challenge my words. I was surprised when he had done what I had asked, turning the volume up on my music player at the same level it was at before and he shut my lights off before I heard his angered decent down my staircase.

I listened intently until I could hear and feel his bedroom door closing through the floor, assuming it had slammed for how well it could be heard. Good, I’m glad he feels anger and wrath. I’m glad he’s showing some kind of action that doesn’t involve greed or lust. Though, now that I think of it, he is the definition of the seven deadly sins.

I continued to space out in the music, turning over and lying on my stomach as I held the pillow I had my head upon. If I breathed in hard enough, I could still smell the faint scent of the shampoo she used before coming to bed with me on the nights she’d sleep over. I came to a sudden realization then that I need to wash the blankets and pillowcases on my bed in hope of bettering this situation and getting over something I don’t even want anymore. The loss was great, she was good to me, but I couldn’t stand knowing that this one, lonely scent was all I had to go on when hers was still mixed within the many perfumes that lingered in Gareth’s sheets. I promised to myself then and there that this was the last night I would miss her, I was going to wake up from this slumber refreshed and with a new set of eyes. I’d find the one to call my own and I’d make sure nothing would ruin it.