Sometimes, I worry when my brother doesn't come home or call

I hate to admit it, but I worry as much as my mom does when Brother doesn't call or come home when he says he will. The silence, it could mean anything.

He could be oversleeping. He might not hear his phone, or the battery died. He could have lost his phone. He's in jail. He could be dead.

He has enough of the wrong kind of enemies for us to think it might be the last possibility. He has the stupidity too (i.e. drinking and driving).

He has a DUI class today at 10 AM. He went out last night, saying he'd be back in a few hours. Mother has called him so many times. She's worried, even though she shows it as anger rather than worry. She's cursing his name. She's calling people to talk and complain about him. It's her way of coping.

I tried calling his friend Stevie (the only name I know), but no one picked up.

He's usually not this late unless something really bad happened.

But when he shows up or calls later, Mother and I will be secretly relieved and then openly aggravated. Relieved because he's ok. Aggravated because we'll have to rush him to his class. Miss a class, you get jail time.


He finally picked up his phone. Picking him up now.


Edit: 0920. Home again. First thing she does is yell. I think I might go to the WTF Rally after all. Go protest the budget cuts. I'd rather go hear people complain about money than my mom complaining about Tony's fucked-up life. Why do I have to hear this shit? It has nothing to do with me.

There goes the punch to the wall. Thank you, Mother and Brother. So much fuckin' anger >_< Someone get me outta here, please. She wants him out. He wants out. Why aren't things working out?

There's no love. No love at all. There was, but it changed into something else. Many different somethings else.

They need counseling..