My Brother - Chapter 1

My name is Hannah P. Collangelo. I like people to guess what my middle name is, then frustrate and infuriate them by not telling. I don’t have any nicknames (I’ve been trying to get people to call me PC, but it’s not really working); dark brown eyes, usually frowning, and brown hair, almost exactly the same colour as my eyes, maybe a bit lighter.

I’m not very popular, but I’m not un-popular. I’m just not worth noticing. I don’t have many friends, either at home or at school. There’s only one person whom I trust, and that’s my older brother Jason. Well, he’s not really my brother. He’s kind of like an imaginary friend, except he’s an imaginary brother. My favourite imaginary brother. My only imaginary brother.

He’s like a diary. A diary I can talk to. Only problem is, when I talk to him, people think I’m crazy, since I’m talking to “myself” (also known as Jason). Sometimes I think I’m crazy too.

My parents don’t understand me. They’ve tried sending me to counsellors and psychiatrists. They’ve tried inviting people over so that we could ‘socialize’. They’ve tried everything; at least, that’s what they think. They haven’t tried talking to me. They’ve never tried asking me what the problem is. Only problem is, I have no idea what the problem is. Maybe it’s because I don’t talk. Okay, I may not talk a lot, but that doesn’t mean I’m shy. I would talk to people, if I wanted friends, which I don’t. That’s also the reason I discourage inviting others over.

“Hey kid”, says Jason. “What’s up?” he sits down on my bed. I take a seat next to him. My bed is messy and safe. I never want to leave it again. I shrug, and then walk and press my ear to the door. I turn around. “It’s mum and dad. They’re fighting again”. I plop myself down again, and dig my face into my hands. Jason puts his arm around me. Whenever my parents fight, it’s always because of me. Just about how I’m getting “lonely” and how I’m talking to myself. It’s about what they think they should do for me. It makes me feel guilty, even if I didn’t do anything.
“Don’t worry, kiddo”, says Jason. He squeezes my shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be fine”. The sentence echo’s in my head. Everything is going to be alright. Everything is going to be fine. My parents always say that. For some reason, though, when Jason says that, it actually sooths me. “You know, I reckon we should start meditation”, he suggests. “I was on the net, and there was this complete guide to yoga and meditation. It’ll be so fun”, his eyes gleam. I look at him and laugh. He’s sitting crossed legged and closing his eyes. “Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Make sure you exhale your inner emotions. Let them out”, I say in a voice very close to a whisper. Jason opens his eyes. He presses his hands together and bows. “Thank you for your teachings master”. He looks up at me and we both express our amusement with laughter.

At the dinner table, I open a chair for Jason. He sits down. Mum walks past and pushes the chair back in. Jason looks like he’s going to break. I chuckle and open the chair again. Jason gasps. He looks at me, relieved. I look at mum. “Where’s dinner?” I asked. The table’s empty. “Well, I thought since you’ve been such a good girl, we could order in. Ah, that’s where that pamphlet got to”. She grabs the small pamphlet for Penny’s Pizzas. “Honey! I’ve found the number!” She calls out to dad. I stare a Jason. He nods. He’s read my mind. Something’s going on.