Dead Gorgeous.

A storm was coming. i could smell it in the brackish air, hear it in the growl of the waves, see it in the darkening clouds. JJosh picked up a stone and tried to skim it across the foaming water. It sank immediately. A wave raced up the beach towards us as if in protest.
Josh laughed and picked up another stone. "Wow! Look at that!"
A salt tang caught at the back of my throat and i had to cough slightly to clear it before i could speak.
"Look! Look!" Josh pointed.
"At what?"
"The sea."
"What about it?"
"It's like a huge pot of spaghetti, boiling and bubbling"
I looked away and shook my head, biting back the words that itched to leave my mouth.
"Amazing! Check the sky!" Josh continued.
I automatically looked up at the strange yellowy-grey clouds. It was as if the tops of the clouds were solid and on fire and the resultant soot and ash were falling to the bottom of them. It was quite common to see the clouds like that over the coast where we lived but Id never seen them like that anywhere else, and certainly not inland. Not that I'd been to that many places. Not that Id been anywhere really. The sky matched my mood. Unsettled. Restless.
"What about the sky?" I said, unable to keep the impatience out of my voice.
"Isn't it terrific? Like . . . Like . . . "
"Oh, for heavens sake, Josh. Not again," I snapped like an old elastic band. "Why're you always going on about the skylight and the twilight and the moonlight? No wonder youre always getting picked on at school."
Josh looked up at me like a wounded dog Id kicked when he was down. "I like . . . Looking at things."
"Fine. But thats no reason to drip on like a snotty tissue about them, I said viciously."
Josh winced at my words and I wasn't sorry. I was glad. I liked to look at things too, but you didnt hear me going on like a girly about them. Josh had to toughen up fast. I wouldnt always be there to watch his back at school, or anywhere else for that matter. Didn't he understand that?
"I'll shut up then," Josh replied quietly.
"Thank you," I said. "I'd appreciate it."
Josh's nose began to run. Another reason why my brother always gets picked on. Whenever hes upset, his nose dribbles. It drives me crazy.
"Wipe your nose," I ordered.
Josh swiped the sleeve of his jumper across his face. He picked up another stone and skimmed it across the water. After a moment I picked up a stone, my hand clenching tightly around its icy smoothness. I knew I was just taking out my bad mood on my brother, but who else was there?
No one.
I shook my head.
My whole life was so pointless. It didnt matter. I didnt matter. I was like one of the small pebbles on the beach, battered smooth by day after month after year of wave upon wave. Except in my case, the wave was my dad. He picked on and criticized and disapproved and condemned every breath I took, until the effect was just the same. I was battered smooth, but that was only on the outside. Inside I was rough and jagged and all corners. And Josh was the only one I could hurt. So I often did. And as much as I hated myself afterwards, it never stopped me from doing it again. And again.
I clenched the stone in my hand even more tightly. Josh sniffed beside me. I wanted to turn to him and hug him and hold him and tell him that he was my brother and that meant something to me. But I didnt. We stood there, together but apart as it began to rain. No gradual build-up from a light spray, but great beads of icy water as big as my fingernails. We were soaked in seconds. The waves lashed up the beach, laughing at us. Or maybe they were angry with us. Or maybe they couldnt care less one way or the other. We picked up smooth stones and skimmed them across the rough water as the storm bashed at us.
It was better than going home.
Sooner or later, wed have to turn round and head back. If we were lucky, Dad would be round the pub and wed be able to change our clothes without ructions. If we were lucky. And once again, itd be left to me to cook up some pasta or some bacon, beans and toast for dinner which was OK as long as we could eat our dinner in peace before Dad got home. I turned to look at Josh, wondering what he was thinking. As if he sensed me watching him, he wiped his nose again with his sleeve. It was raining quite hard now. The yellow tinge to the clouds had disappeared. Now there was only dark charcoal-grey.
Come on, Josh, I shouted above the noise of the waves and the rain. "Time to head back."
"Liam, I dont want to go home," he shouted back.
"Come on." I started walking up the beach. I didnt need to turn round to know that my brother was standing there watching me. "Come on, or Ill leave you to it," I yelled.
Josh started to follow me. I slowed down so that he could catch up. When at last he did, I turned round to him and smiled. He smiled back. Without warning, I grabbed him and put him in a headlock.
"Get off!" he shouted.
After messing up his short locks good and proper, I let him go. Josh had to take a step forward, his hands stretched out before him to stop himself from falling. He sprang up and grinned at me. And just like that, some of the weight was lifted from my shoulders. But not much. And not for long.
"Time to go home," I sighed.
Josh's smile vanished. And Id done that. I was always the one to wipe the smile from his face. Sometimes, I really hated being the older brother. Sometimes, I wondered how it would feel to just be me. By myself. No one else to consider. No one else to worry about. Just the thought of it made me ache inside. To be on my own and left alone. Now that would be a real slice of heaven.