The Thin Line Between

Hello everyone. Quick little explanation for long time readers of this site. If this story, whether it's the title or what you read below, seems a little familiar, you are not experiencing déjà vu. I submitted a number of stories a couple of years back but ended up deleting my profile and stories for... 'reasons'. Don't want to go into it too much but the subject of most stories I was submitting bit me in the arse in real life. My own fault.

So, anyway, I've let time pass by before starting again with a new profile and hopefully more anonymity than before. At least it's given me a chance to make little edits here and there of all my works. If this jogs the memory, hope you enjoy it again. If you haven't read it before, I hope you enjoy it!

*****

Sibling relationships. I think most people out there have at least a half decent relationship with their brother or sister. Or brothers and sisters. Sure, when growing up, you probably had the usual issues when maturing. With hormones raging, and teenage angst, life would always be difficult in a household full of young people growing up. I even feel pity for the parents out there that have to put up with more than one moody teenager.

Until the age of about 10, the relationship with my older sister, Charlie (born as Charlene, she preferred Charlie), had been rather nice. I didn't worship the ground she walked on or anything, but she was kind and rather smart, and until that age, she was nice towards me, and I towards her. I remember we liked to be around the other more often than not. I like to think we were close, as close as siblings around three years apart would be.

Things changed when she turned 13. She started to get mean. Mostly it was just teasing. But it was incessant. And it didn't take long for it to get cruel. The sort of digs and comments that stay with you for a long time. The real problem? According to my parents, the sun shone out of Charlie's arse. She could literally do no wrong. So in addition to the teasing, she knew how to push all my buttons to get a reaction out of me. And I soon found myself in trouble with the parents. 'Be nice to your sister'. 'Don't say that about your sister'. 'You shouldn't say things like that to your sister'.

Slowly but surely, I realised my relationship with Charlie had changed. I was no longer the darling little brother. I was... I wasn't quite sure what I was. The enemy? Possibly. An annoyance? I was left feeling more and more like that. I tried to remain as friendly as possible, but when someone treats you like dirt on their shoe, you realise the relationship is perhaps irretrievable.

Then something happened when I was 14, she being 16, which completely destroyed our relationship, in my eyes at least. I was minding my own business in my room, looking forward to the summer holidays fast approaching. I could hear an argument in the living room between my sister and parents. I couldn't help the smirk that formed. Finally, the golden child is in trouble. By now, Charlie and I had little to do with each other, and I think that suited us just fine. She was a 16-year-old teenager who had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with me. I'll admit, I was saddened that we couldn't have a normal relationship. Most of my friends had one or more siblings, and they all appeared to get on far better than Charlie and I. Mostly, I still wondered what exactly I had done wrong. But trying to talk to Charlie only ended in an argument, and with me in trouble for arguing with my sister. So I'd just given up in the end.

I only knew something was wrong regarding myself when my mother and father both appeared at the door to my bedroom. "Matthew James Thompson, where are they?" my mother demanded.

All three names? Shit, what have I done? "Where are what, Mum?" I asked carefully.

Her eyes narrowed as she walked towards where I was sitting. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Where are the cigarettes?"

I swivelled in my chair, looking between Mum and Dad. I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "Smokes? Do you think I smoke? I'm 14!"

"Someone is smoking in this house, Matthew. And your sister said it isn't her."

"And, of course, you believe every bloody word she says, don't you?" I retorted sarcastically.

"Matthew!" my father shouted, "Don't you speak to your mother like that."

"Do you seriously think I'm smoking?" I asked, glaring daggers at the man.

"We're going to search this room, young man. And you'd better pray to god we don't find any."

Of course, they found some. Half a carton, to be exact. I had no idea they were in there. And I knew exactly who had put them there. I don't know when or how she had the opportunity to put them in the back of my wardrobe. Even I had to admit she had me hook, line and sinker. But that minor part of me that respected the play was overshadowed by the hatred that now consumed me, particularly once my parents grounded me for the entire summer holidays. All my plans, gone in an instant.

From that day forward, as far as I was concerned, I had no sister. The cigarette incident was the straw that broke the camel's back, in the long line of incidents that happened between us. From now on, Charlie was just a girl that happened to live in the same house. As for my parents, I tolerated their presence in my life. Even at 14, near enough to 15, my birthday in February not long after the holidays finished, I set my mind to getting out of the house as soon as possible.

I barely talked to anyone in the house after that incident. My parents received short, one word responses to most questions. My sister was ignored completely. And I knew she noticed. She tried pushing my buttons. I just looked right through her, like she didn't exist. Teasing didn't work. Trying to wind me up didn't work. She even tried talking to me like a normal person after a while. I just walked out of the room. Sounds immature, but it prevented me blowing up and telling her what I really thought.

My 15^th birthday was when shit well and truly hit the fan, and my parents and sister were left with no doubt what I thought about the lot of them. By this time, I got up, showered, dressed and headed straight to school, trying to avoid the kitchen if anyone was in there. If I saw anyone, they got a grunt. I sat down to dinner with them in the evening simply because I had no choice. I needed to eat, but I spent as little time with them as possible otherwise.

On the morning of my birthday, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to see Charlie standing there. She smiled and wished me 'Happy Birthday'. I returned at look that would have shown all the hatred and disdain I had for her by that time, and noticed the smile slowly disappeared.

"I'm..."

"Fuck off and die, Charlie."

"What?" she asked quietly.

"You heard me. Fuck off. Die slowly. What the fuck are you even doing at my door anyway?"

I glared at her and noticed her wilt slightly under my gaze. She could barely meet my eyes. "I wanted..."

"I don't care what you want, Charlie. Fuck off. Leave me alone." I slammed the door in her face.

Shit hit the fan no more than ten minutes later. My door opened and my father dragged me out of my room by the back of my shirt, into the living room. Charlie was on the couch, crying her eyes out. Mum stood in the middle of the living room, crying to herself, though when she saw me approach, I could see the anger. My father released me and stood next to my mother.

"How could you say such a thing to your sister?"

"I don't have one."

My father looked perplexed. "Have one?"

"A sister. I don't have one."

"Don't be so stupid, Matthew."

"She has made it perfectly clear what she thinks about me over the past few years. So she can fuck off as far as I'm concerned."

I knew the slap was coming. And, boy, did it sting. I rubbed my cheek as Mum started to cry. I just glared at my father, ignoring her. "You want a shot too? I mean, you've made it perfectly clear what you think of me after all these years." I gestured towards my sister. "Golden child who can do no wrong." I gestured towards myself. "And then there is me."

"Is that really what you think?" my father asked in return, and I thought he actually sounded... disappointed.

"She can fuck off, at the very least. As for you two, quite frankly, if you wanted rid of me right now, you'd be doing me a massive fucking favour. Send me to the grandparents. Kick me out onto the fuckin' streets. Honestly, I'm past caring. How does that sound? 15 years old and doesn't even want to live at home anymore. Should tell you everything you need to know."

I'd never sworn in front of my parents until that day. Now that I was on a roll, I was letting them know what I really thought. Baring my conscience, mind and soul, all in one go.

"You're our son, Matthew. We love you," Mum sobbed.

I snorted in undisguised disgust. "Could you have fooled me. Are we done here? Ground me for however long you want. I don't give a shit." I glanced towards my sister, still crying. She looked at me, and I could see her heart was broken. I just hardened mine in return. "And don't talk to me again. Far as I'm concerned, you don't exist."

It being a Saturday, I stayed in my room all day, only leaving to have a shower. In my favour was the fact I saved my pocket money over the year, putting it all in a savings account, so thanks to interest rates, and the fact I didn't spend anything, I actually had a few hundred dollars. So when I got hungry, I dressed and readied myself to head out. It was then that I noticed a small pile of presents next to my door. Figuring I'd well and truly make my point, I gathered them up and walked into the kitchen, noticing the other three were sat at dinner. Mum smiled a little as I approached.

After placing them down on the table, I simply said, "You can keep your presents."

"What? Why?" Mum asked, already sounding upset.

"Feed me and clothe me. Do the minimum you need to do as parents. Obviously don't want CPS involved in all this. Other than that, I'll take care of myself."

"Don't be so..."

"Stupid, Dad? I may be stupid, but I know what to think. So, don't do me any favours anymore." I turned and readied to walk out of the kitchen.

"Aren't you going to have dinner with us? It's your birthday!" Mum cried.

"No," I stated, and walked out the front door. I heard footsteps behind me as I reached the end of the driveway, turning around to see Charlie, of all the people in the world.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.

I laughed in her face. "You're sorry? Fuck you, Charlie. It's a little late for sorry."

She stepped closer, and I'll admit that I raised my hand, only stopping once I realised what I'd done. Charlie looked at me with eyes wide, almost as if she noticed how I looked at her for the first time. I could see Mum and Dad watching from the front door. I lowered my hand but stepped forward. "Fuck. Off," I growled, before turning around and walking away.

I had McDonald's as a birthday treat to myself. Even had a McFlurry as dessert.

Life in the house may have been awkward for the other three over the next couple of years, but for me, they were absolutely fine. I think I barely swapped a dozen words with Charlie, though that was because I generally avoided her presence. Mum and Dad tried their best, but I was a brick wall, swallowing all the emotions I could feel. It was definitely not healthy but I soldiered on. On my 16^th birthday, I found another pile of presents on my bed, returning those to their bedroom.

I found a part time job within a week of turning 16, and was soon burning the candle at both ends. School during the day, working most evenings and weekends. Anything to keep me out of the house. I wasn't too worried about my studies, as I planned on leaving at the end of Year 10, having already talked to a guidance counsellor about apprenticeship schemes. I wanted to be a mechanic, so she helped me put together a CV and in contact with local shops.

The only time I ever felt awkward was when the grandparents came to visit, particularly at Christmas or if they popped over on my birthday. I had no idea if they were aware of the complete collapse of my relationship with the parents and Charlie, but if they were aware, they certainly kept their opinions to themselves. When they were at the house, I was always pleasant and friendly towards them. The same grandson they had always loved. Hell, I even smiled while they were around. My Nanna knew it was all fake. She never said as much to me, but she knew something was going on. She never said a word to me, though, I guess figuring it wasn't her place to get involved.

My parents had no idea of my plans to leave school, or they didn't until the school sent a letter, notifying my parents that I intended to leave. I had no idea about any letter until there was a knock at the door, opening it to see my father. I just looked at him as he held up the letter.

"We need to talk, Matthew."

I swallowed down the sarcastic retort and followed him into the kitchen. Mum was already sat there, the pair sitting alongside as I sat opposite to them. There was no sign of Charlie. To be honest, I had next to no idea what she was even doing with her life by that stage. I'd made my feeling perfectly clear towards her, and amazingly, she respected them.

"When were you going to tell us?" my father asked.

"I wasn't."

"We're your parents and we have a right to know what you're going to do with your life, Matthew."

I folded my arms across my chest. "If you say so."

"What's happened to you?" Mum asked quietly, "You used to be such a nice, friendly boy."

"If you need to ask that question, then I'm not the one to provide an answer."

"Why aren't you staying at school? Your marks are good enough to eventually get into university," my father stated. First time I'd heard any form of praise for him since... forever.

"Because I don't want to. I'm going to work, make money, then get out of this place."

Mum started to cry. My father just shook his head. "Why do you hate us, Matthew?" my father asked quietly.

I smirked. "I don't hate you. I don't care enough to hate you. The opposite of love is indifference. That's how I feel about you. Hatred means I care. Figured I'd be doing you a favour once I'm out of here." Mum leaned into my father, watching as he hugged her. The look he returned to me was only one of sadness. Not even disappointment. I still had humanity. Deep down, I still cared. Still loved them. And I hated seeing Mum cry.

But I swallowed that down. I was a brick wall. Emotionless. Nothing but a dark void.

"Are we done here?"

Finishing year 10, my marks were actually rather good, but there was no chance I would be staying on. I had an apprenticeship lined up and I was fully employed by the time I turned 17. In addition to working, I was also doing a part-time college course in mechanics, as I wanted all the certificates possible so I could become a fully certified mechanic.

For the year until I turned 18, I finished my apprenticeship, graduated college with a few certificates while I also spent time at the gym, keeping myself fit. At home, I was completely self-sufficient. I learned to cook my own meals, eating at different times to the rest, did my own laundry, all the things I would have done if I'd been living alone. I could afford to buy my own car, and had obtained my licence as quickly as possible. Through all this, every Christmas and birthday, I'd wake up to find presents at my door. Each time, they were returned.

As for Charlie, she still lived at home. I had no idea if she was studying or not. No idea if she had a boyfriend, or girlfriend, if she was so inclined. I saw her from time to time, and by the time she was 20, she was certainly... Well, I still had no time for her, but I'd have to be blind not to notice she was beautiful. Brunette with blue eyes. A pair of pert boobs similar to most girls. She wasn't thin, wasn't fat. She was, well, a woman. In the brief moments I did see her, I did what any red-blooded man would have done. I checked her out, barely remembering she was my sister.

My parents attempted to make a big deal of my 18^th but I had my own plans to go out with my friends, considering I was now legal to go out and drink. There was now the tradition of returning the presents that sat near my door, but Mum stood in the way of the front door as I was ready to go, preventing me from leaving the house.

"Please don't go," she said quietly. I just looked down at her from my height of around six foot. There was no hatred in my eyes. No disdain. They probably looked empty of any emotion. Shit, I probably verged on sociopathic, at least according to the family. She stepped forward and I knew she wanted a hug. "Please," she pleaded.

I was a brick wall. But I'll admit my heart was breaking. I'd kept the act up for so long, I'd become the act. Somewhere deep inside was the little boy my mother no doubt remembered. I couldn't remember the last time I'd even hugged her. I realised how much I missed them. And, seeing my mum cry and plead for her son just to do the small thing of giving her a hug, she nearly broke me completely. I wrapped her in a hug and felt her sob in my arms, holding her for around a minute. I kissed the top of her head.

"I'm going out, Mum," I said quietly, keeping my tone as even as possible.

I felt her squeeze me even tighter. "Don't. Please don't..."

I gently grabbed her by the arms and untangled myself from her. My father was watching, escorting Mum so she could hug him. As Mum sobbed, he held out his right hand towards me. I looked at it for a moment before I grasped it. "Happy birthday, son," he said quietly.

I didn't smile, but I returned a respectful nod before turning and walking out the door. I got in my car, started it up and drove for about five minutes before I had to pull over and stop because my vision started to blur. I cried for a good few minutes, feeling like completely shit. Wiping my cheeks, I started the car and headed off to celebrate my birthday.

I didn't enjoy myself. I was a fool, but I'd dug a hole I felt I couldn't get out of.

*****

"I would like to drive across the country. It'll take a week or so. I'll be honest. I've barely had any time off since I left school."

"That's reasonable, Matt. We definitely want your expertise so whenever you can get here will be grand."

I looked at the calendar on my smartphone. "Why not the first of next month? That'll give me a week to sort out all my issues here, then a week to get across the country. I won't have much with me."

"Sounds good. I'll have one of the boys here find you a place to live until you find somewhere of your own."

"Sounds good, Steve."

"Do you need to know anything else?"

"No. Just email me the contract and I'll sign that once I arrive."

"That I can do. If that's it, I'll have one of the girls email the contract and all I can say otherwise is that I look forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks, Matt."

"I'm looking forward to it too, Steve. I'll keep in touch, letting you known when I'm on my way, and then when I arrive in town."

"No worries. Speak to you soon."

The mechanic shop where I was working were already aware that I would be leaving. They were disappointed to see me leave, but I explained I wanted out of home and the city. I'd be leaving plenty of friends behind, but I wanted a completely new start. Most of my friends understood, stating they'd fly over and visit on the odd occasion. Whether they would actually do that or not was up to them.

As for home, I gave no indication of what I was up to. They only realised what was going on when I walked through the living room with a large suitcase, walked out to put that in the boot of my car. Walking back inside to grab the last bits and pieces, it was Charlie who stood at my doorway. "Where are you going?"