• Mathura Hawley

men

Updated: Aug 2, 2021


I wanted to look like him, with shaggy long hair that fell over his eyes, and jeans with holes that belled out at the bottom."

I answered the orange plastic play phone. “Hello, Hawley’s Auto.” I leaned to my brother, who was sitting shoulder to shoulder with me at my desk in my room, reading a magazine. He never stayed this long or gave me this much attention, especially now that I was 7 and he was 17. He took the phone from my hand and took a pretend order on a sheet of paper on my messy desk. He handed the phone back to me and I made a fake appointment and hung up. We talked about cars, which we both loved, mine were matchbox and his a real blue corvette which he was fixing up and using to get girls. I wanted to look like him, with shaggy long hair that fell over his eyes, and jeans with holes that belled out at the bottom. It was the happiest moment I could remember with him, as he spent my first years hurting me physically to the point of tears and marks, suffocating me with his weight until I would panic, and calling me names that humiliated me, usually in front of my friends. But not today. I tried to contain my excitement by taking another call. “Hello?” I answered. Again , I handed him the phone, wanting this moment to go on forever. He looked at me, looked at the phone. His expression changed and he smirked at me, shaking his head in disgust.


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