He looked at himself in the mirror, hating himself. It wasn't fair. His brother got all the attention, and he was the younger one. As the oldest, he should be in the spotlight. Especially since he had just come home from his first year off at college, which, apparently, his dad had told everyone he knew that he hated it-to the point of them asking if he was going to go back. Seriously? Like he needed more people nosing into his personal life. But no. It was all about his baby brother. And why shouldn't it be?-He was the one with cancer, after all.
He did feel guilty for the jealousy. The burning jealousy that kept him up at night, that crawled up his throat in the form of bile, that emotion that made him stare into the mirror and wonder what went wrong. It wasn't fair. He shouldn't feel like this at all, he should be reveling in the fact that he was home, school was done, and he had perfect grades. He should be happy.
He wasn't. They all ignored him. They didn't care about his feelings-the feelings that were only worsening, the feelings pushing him right up to the brink of depression, and he was clinging desperately to the cliff of sanity, struggling not to give in and just leap off. He didn't want his parents to have to worry about him, too. They had enough to deal with with his brother. But it wasn't fair. Couldn't they see he was slowly spiraling down into the abyss? No. He made sure of it. He didn't want to be a problem too. He couldn't bear the thought of adding to their list of "one more thing".
And that was when the suicide thoughts began to come in force. Oh, he'd always had them. They were a part of him, the effect and cause of his low self-esteem. But now, they were worse. He looked at blades fondly, put finger-guns to his head and pulled imaginary triggers, thought of 'noose' when challenged with finding a word starting with 'n'. It was startling.
He wasn't a dumb kid. No, he was very smart, and worked very hard to keep it that way. He wanted to be perfect, for his parents, for his brother, but every time he saw himself he was reminded of how much of a failure he was. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't. But death? Death would be. How could they ever understand his pain? They weren't the ones with their lives turned upside down, suddenly fending for themselves in more ways than one.
He had stopped introducing himself as "Edward, Elric." The last name gave him away-and the stranger would now only associate him with his brother-not great for first impressions. Not great for establishing yourself as a separate entity. So he became "Ed." That was it. It made him feel as if he still controlled something. When everything is ripped away from you, what do you do?
You become hollow. An empty pit where your identity used to be. Now, you are hollow, with just your depression to keep you company. He was hollow, and every time he thought it was getting better, he caught sight of himself-his reflection reminded him that he couldn't be happy, not when his brother was so sick and hurting. It was not right of him to enjoy life when everything had gone to pieces. And the abyss widened.
xxx
"Edward!" his mother scolded as he dropped another dirty dish into the sink. She had been washing for a good ten minutes already, but Ed had just finished with it. Apparently it was too late to get mom to do it. "Would you mind cleaning up after yourself for once?!"
He gritted his teeth against his initial reaction, and forced a grin to appear. "Yes, Mom." Whatever you ask. It's not like I do anything around here, right? He had just cleaned the whole house two days before.
His mother nodded and turned to call into the other room. "Alphonse, sweetheart? Are you done with your plate? Ed, dear, go get your brother's dishes and wash them up." his mother turned back around, and began drying the dishes she had just washed.
Why? He's not helpless. He keeps insisting that he's not a baby. Let him do it himself for once. "Yes, Mom." The blonde 19-year-old kept an iron grip on his emotions. He could not, would not, let anything going on inside show. It would cause everyone more harm than good if he did. He made his way into the living room, walking up next to his brother, who lay on the couch, watching T.V. Like he does every day, all the time. "Yo, dishes." His brother handed them over without a word or even a glance in Ed's direction, and he went back into the kitchen to wash them. Ed still hadn't gotten used to the situation. It was hard to come to terms with cancer, especially when it struck so suddenly. Al had lost all his hair, looked thinner and paler, and couldn't do anything with Ed anymore. He didn't feel like it. It was weird.
And his parents. Sheesh. Ed already knew that Alphonse was his dad's favorite, before any of this happened. But now even his mom had given up on him in favor of her youngest. He had come home from college in triumph, sporting perfect grades, only to be greeted with indifference. It was jarring. The world had come crashing down.
Ed knew of only one way to get his mind off his problems. To keep busy. If he sat idle, he would start thinking dangerously again. If he didn't get up and do something, he would reach for the nearest sharp object. Reach for it, or just bite down-teeth were for more than just food, it seemed. The marks around his wrists were angry red, a boiling color that showed Ed the extent of his emotion that he wouldn't show to anyone else. He covered them up with bracelets, a watch, bandanas. No one questioned his new sense of style. No one even noticed. That was why Ed decided to get a job. It would get him out of the house, away from his family, into the public, somewhere where biting would be harder to get away with. He needed to keep busy.
Books. Edward Elric had always been fascinated with books. He was a bibliophile, you could say that with certainty. So when the local bookstore put up a sign in the window that said "Hiring", Ed took a chance and put in the application. Everyone would think he was crazy if he didn't go for it-it would be too unlike him. And he must keep up appearances, after all. When he landed the job, his family told him it was good of him to work. He could raise his own money to pay for his trip to study abroad. Because they couldn't afford it if he didn't do his part. Of course. Al.
It just happened to be bad luck that the bookstore also housed a cafe.
XXX
Hey everyone, this is an update on Ch 1, cause I'm adding this note here. New readers, if you haven't read my profile, then you wouldn't know that this is MY story. Ed is representing me. Al is representing my little sister, who has ALL leukemia. The thoughts at the beginning of every chapter are MY thoughts. Or, they were. It's been a year since I started writing this, have introduced many more canon elements, and have an over-arching plot. Also, my sister is doing great on her maintenance treatment, and though I'm still suffering from depression and anxiety, the source is not my sister's cancer anymore. But, if you are like one of my Anon reviewers, then you would tell me all the terrible things about myself and why it's not necessary to have Al have cancer. Seriously. Someone anonymously posted crap like that. Check the reviews, and check my response to them there.
If Ed seems rather petty and childish here, it's because I was rather petty and childish when this whole thing started. I just didn't let any of my family know. Instead I let you guys know, not ever expecting that this would be my most popular story.
So many people relate to this story, and for different reasons. Maybe I'm helping you by writing out all those terrible thoughts that most everyone has at one point or another. Maybe you think my "moral code" (again, check that anon review) is screwed up and I'm a bad person. But I'm not. Every single one of us has gone through hardships in our lives. Just, some of us deal with it differently than others. So don't get on your high horse about my ways of coping. Til next time.