Terrier News

When I was younger, I believed my mother could do no wrong, that my sister was selfish and that my brother was a late bloomer. I trusted one person so deeply that I closed out all other possibilities; never had I imagined that in doing so, I would lose so much so quickly.                         

 “Lillian! He’s drooling again!” my sister announced with disgust. As I ran over, I watched while she sat with her back towards him glaring out the window. It was simple, Jessica didn’t like us. She found bliss in being far away from her own family, especially as far away from him as possible.                                      

“Jess, Ed’s not going to hurt you, you know. You could at least act like you care about him.”  I sneered at her while sponging up the puddle of saliva Edward had streaming down into the pit of his clavicle.                                                          “See, you’re all better now aren’t you big bro” I said making a goofy face and discreetly dabbing a tissue at the crease of his chapped lips. He giggled, clapping his hands together stiffly; he loves when I do that.                                                                                                                                                                                           Jessica whipped around, her face all scrunched up with frustration, she never smiled. “Well I don’t care and I don’t understand how you deal with him, he’s disgusting” she hissed “he scares all my friends when they visit and he’s always breaking things and screaming.”                                                                              

“Jessica! How can you say that about your own brother?” My mother exclaimed as she appeared from the kitchen with pale tired skin, luggage under her eyes and a shot glass in between her fingers.                                                                                                                                                                                                         “Edward is the smartest boy in his class; just give him time he’ll grow up to be a normal kid like you two.” She told us while lighting the cigarette that protruded from her lips.  

  “It’s not hard to be the smartest when you’re in a class of retards!” Jessica expressed and before my mother had the chance to address her she angrily stormed up to her room, slamming the door behind her. The vibrant clap echoes downstairs into Edward’s ears, sending him into a frenzy.

               “Get the pillows Lillian!” Mom yelled. She knew the drill; she had been doing it for over 18 years. Edward grunted and thrashed. He pounded his forearms and fists into his jaw and head. The acts of self-harm were everyday issues that people outside of my family knew about. So after discovering that my mother and I were the only ones caring for Ed they felt that he was beyond our control and needed to be “institutionalized.” But my mother was never going to leave Ed there to suffer. She told us about the horrors in those “special homes.” Besides, what was the point in sending him away if it would only be “a few more months until he’d get better” my mother insisted.        

        I was at a point where even if Jessica and those people outside didn’t believe my mother I made it my duty to always be on her side. I had to admit though, there was one truth to their words. Those days, we did struggle to calm Ed down. He was 6”4 and almost 200 pounds. When he acted out, it really made me miss my father who would always step in and take over the more difficult of outbursts. He’d climb on top of Ed and just lay there until he was calm. Unfortunately dad was like my preteen sister, short tempered and fed up. So he’s been away for a while on a business trip. But if Edward didn’t start showing more improvement, dad’s trip would be extended…again.                                    

         Later that same night I heard the mice from the kitchen racing. They zipped from under my bedroom door to the curtain on my window and scampered in and out of the holes they dug just under the rotting wood. Fortunately, I didn’t mind their sounds. It was a part of my nightly white noise but when a faint “Mmm” lingered from the hall, my eyes couldn’t help but shoot open. The moan was followed by creaking floor boards just outside my door. I turned to the side and rose, stuffing my toes into night slippers. I peeked my head into the hall to catch a glimpse of a figure heading into Jessica’s room. I proceeded calmly after it, then noticed Ed’s door was wide open.                                                   

   “Silly Ed, Jessica can’t play with you right now.” I whispered with a sense of relief. But when I found him in the room, my relief was replaced by sheer discomfort. He was just standing there, stroking his lap… smiling.                                                                                                                                                                  

  “Ed…” I called to him as I approached but he wouldn’t break his gaze on Jessica who was fast asleep in her bed. He stood there, mouth open, just staring.                                                                                              

   “Ed.” I said with a bit more force. He seemed so lost in his world, as he towered over Jessica’s resting body. It was then that the feeling first crept up on me. This wasn’t my big brother… His crooked smile and intense eyes made me want to run.                                                                                                          

  Yet still I stepped closer. When he looked at me I was hesitant but proceeded anyway. “Edward, leave Jessica to sleep!” I commanded, just then he snapped, stomping and swinging his arms wildly. He knocked all of Jessica’s things to the ground with an almost frustrated shriek. My mother pummeled through the door as Jessica sprung up from her slumber. “Lillian, get the pillows!” my mother ordered as she attempted to hold Edward’s arms back. He kicked and elbowed her, beating Mom as if she was just an obstacle. Before we were able to subdue him, Ed launched his fist into Jessica’s mirror. The shards of glass jammed into his skin while globs of blood spattered onto the carpet. We fought him for the longest 11 minutes of my life, taking all the thrashing and spitting that Edward had to offer. I wanted to cry, this wasn’t my beloved big brother anymore. He never attacked anyone but himself. What hurt the most was when we managed to barricade him into his room. He didn’t take it lightly, and I mean who was to blame him, his hand was bleeding out.                                                “Mom! We can’t just lock him up in there, he’s hurt!” I begged her as she stood firmly against his door holding the knob while repeating “shhh shhh”.                                                                                                        

  “Mom!” I hollered but like a swift hawk she back handed my left cheek. Two fingernails raked against my skin drawing streams of red.                                                                                                 

    “Shut up!” mother roared as Jessica watched from her doorway. I felt the blood dripping from my face accompanied by the feeling of betrayal throughout my entire body. I left my mother who stood at the door; hair all frizzed, with whiskey on her tongue. In that one action, she had lost all my trust.  The following nights were much like that one. Ed would wonder his way into Jessica’s room and just watch her. He wasn’t getting any better and I had finally stopped denying the fact that he still couldn’t speak or dress himself. My own research taught me that Mom lied to Jessica and me, just as she would lie that Friday afternoon.                                                                                                                                               

During my walk home I received a text from Jessica “Mom left to buy cigarettes. She said she wouldn’t be long but I hear Edward waking up… I’m scared.” To this day I cannot recall a moment when I ran faster than after reading that text. At the end of my panicked dash I entered the house and knew something wasn’t right. My eyes scanned the living room; but there was no one. A dead silence exaggerated my heart beat and made my breath almost deafening. Suddenly there was an abrupt crash. A thundering thud erupted from upstairs followed by a scream and the sound of a struggle. My bag tumbled to the floor as I bolted up the staircase. I rapidly hammered my fists against her door and cried out.

“Jessica!” What could I do? “Jessica!” I shouted, with my right cheek pressed against the hollow barrier.                        There were loud grunts and a scream of bloody murder. The cold steel knob refused to turn so I stepped back a few feet, and then rammed my shoulder into the door. A trickle of cracks streamed down the wood but not enough for me to gain entry. “Again!” I thought to myself as I backed up then rushed shoulder first. Pieces of wood chips and painted designs spiraled to the carpet. When I made it into the room, I hadn’t thought anything through. I didn’t know what I was going to do because honestly … I wasn’t ready for what I would see.

 “Lillian help me!”

My sister yelled as a man in all black towered over her. He wore a mask and carried a bag on his shoulder filled with the few valuables my house had to offer. My sister cowered in the corner as he glared over to me. There was a cold sweat that rolled down my forehead I didn’t know what to do. Just then he lunged at me, grabbing a handful of my hair. I cried out but there was no one, or at least that’s what I had thought. The uncoordinated flip flop of feet came scuttling in the room. There he was my hero; everything had gone black.

I guess too much had gone by, I guess I was just too weak. “Shouldn’t be gone long” she said.  Yet why was it that when I had awoken he just lying there. Body slump and motionless while a river of red streamed from his chest. Where was she when her youngest daughter was attacked? Where was she when her oldest daughter walked in on a home intrusion? The tears began to bubble as Jessica woke and stared at him just as I did.

Where was she, when her most precious son gave his life to save his only sisters? Where?

Epilogue: It is important to understand and show awareness of mental and physical illness. It is imporant to learn, share and care for others  as we all try to improve-mentally, physically and spiritually.