Dear Madeline,

I guess I’m not mad that you left, it’s the way that you left that really angers me. It’s as if everything we had been through together didn’t mean anything to you. Every last memory was shattered, astray on the cold floor. Sure, you had reason to go – and to never look back – but I guess I just thought I deserved something from you. I’m not sure what exactly. A note, a hug, a kiss goodbye? Something that could help me move on, I guess – something that could keep the rusty pedals in motion on this bike as I travel along the winding road. Something that could help me reach the finish line.
Unexpected, unexplained, and unchangeable circumstances. That’s how I look at all of this now. I’m not going to beg you to come back, I won’t talk to you ever again if that’s really what you want. You can pretend you never had a brother, that you never left me fighting for myself on this battlefield. You can pretend you don’t have a father, one whose rage and addiction has turned him into a monster, making us fear for our lives every second of every day.
Every night I sit in my room, waiting. Waiting for you to come hold me. Waiting for you to tell my I’m safe from him, and that everything will be alright. But waiting for you is pointless. Because I know that no matter what I tell myself, I will never feel your warm embrace again. No matter how many times I think she’ll come back for me. She will come back for me, I know I’ll never see your freckled face again, smiling like everything’s right when it’s completely wrong.
It’s then that I realize you wont be back. It’s then that I realize, I am all alone.

Your little brother,

George