((I downed a cherry pepsi and orange drink, wooow, let's do this thing!))

last time on...um..what was the name of this piece of shit?...um..oh well, let's recap: This dude's got a real beautiful older brother, who he envies and fears, and now said brother is about to beat him down with a metal bat. So enjoy...my goodness...I'm typin to myself...glances around hello? zombie pops out and attack maybe the zombies will read this piece of shit story? zombie runs away WHO NEEDS YOU?!

Of course my wish was answered, for the next thing I knew I felt the cold smooth bat smash across my face, knocking me off my chair and onto my filthy sock smelling carpet. Pain shot from jaw, and half my teeth felt like they were on the verge of shattering in my gums, if my own blood didn't choke me first. After the bat came down on my back I quickly jerked onto my side, with both my hands blocking my head, just as the bat worked up to it. At the time I feared my fingers would break and crumble away leaving the back of my skull exposed to the bat's violent strikes. I vaguely remember hearing my mother's shrieking voice in the foreground, and I don't think my father was home that day. Not that any of them could protect me from him. Soon, the strikes ceased, and I was sure the pain had made me finally die. But a crunching-smashing sound jerked my head up and my clenched eyes opened wide. My computer's screen was smashed in with the bat still sticking inside it, like the stick in a lolly pop. Taylor removed the bat from inside it then released a brutal barrage of blows against it from every angle. Once it was in splinters, he grabbed my keyboard and mouse by the cords and ripped them out of their sockets and flung them against the wall behind him. Finally releasing and laying down the bat, he stuck his long slender fingers into the floppy drive of my modem dragged it out from under my desk then kicked it down beside where I lay. His blank unblinking glance was on me as he picked up the bat slowly, and I wasn't sure what he was going to smash next, his deadly gaze remained on me as he delivered the first blow against the side of my modem, the floppy and cd drive bulged out from the pressure, and a huge dent was left in it's side, the bat continued it's swift and violent rampage till there was hardly a shell of the modem left. His hands finally gently tossed the bat down against the mess of shattered computer pieces right in front of me. His head cocked to one side and his mellow-hostile eyes stared me down, almost like he was daring me to pick the bat back up and mimic what he had just done to me. His chest wasn't even heaving from all the extravagant damage he had just released upon my precious belongings. It meant nothing to him mentally or physically. sociopath; thy name is Taylor. He then sauntered out of the room like he would any other uneventful day. My mother jerked out of his path as he passed her in the door way. She then ran and knelt at my side. "Come on, we need to get you to a hospital, come on." she said coldly her voice almost irked, taking my bloody arm under her wing and attempted to help my big beaten body up. There must have been tears in my eyes because she looked into my face and hissed. "Why do you have to go and make him angry? Didn't I tell you about him? He'll leave you alone if you leave him alone!" I hated her naive words so badly. It was like saying; Leave the blood thirsty serial killer alone and he won't bother you, like hell he won't.

I knew what his outburst was about as soon as I heard the extra loud slam of our front door that day. The pictures. Turns out, one of Taylor's classmates commented on the pictures she saw of him on the internet. I'm slightly surprised I'm not dead, but then again, he might not have gotten away with it if he did that. Or maybe he would get away with it, either way, who would they believe? Taylor was an honor student, I was bombing, he attended church, I went to chat rooms, Taylor was...so beautiful, like a scary doll.

At first I was grateful to be alive, happy that the doctors could sew, bandage and cast me up, and the drugs made me feel better then new. It's when I went back home did the resentment in my belly began to surface. My father wouldn't speak of it, he wouldn't look or even speak to me. I was nothing to him. And my mother acted the same, but I could see the strain and frustration in her eyes every time she looked at my damaged form. It was equally horrible once I came back to school. Taylor wouldn't give any details concerning the pictures on the internet, one glare from him and all curious questions were dropped at once. but rumors spread about my disappearance from school and even more formed after I returned all battered. People of course figured I was the one who invaded my sibling's privacy and that of course left me as being the perverted psychopath who deserved more punishment then I already had received. Which of course left Taylor as the victim whom had to fight his insane unattractive brother off. A spotlight seemed to follow me where ever I went through out the school, and I hated it. I figured this would probably follow me for the rest of my high school years.

A was constantly stopped in the halls by groups of Taylor fans.

"So, you like, want to have sex with your brother?" asked a guy, with his expression twisted and disgusted as if he already knew the answer was indeed "yes".

I would not make a comment, because it was ridiculous and it didn't matter what I claimed, everyone had their own version of what came about between Taylor and I, and their minds wouldn't be swayed by the boring truth. They must have been pestering Taylor for details as well, because I could see the fire behind his cold eyes only seeming to gain more fuel. I managed to not be in the same room as him for a few weeks, but one week we happened to walk through the same hall in the house, his eyes were cast down, and his hands were in his coat pockets, my heart raced like an insane base drum, he passed me by with out so much as a punch and just when my heart began to slow it's pace, his hand caught me by the cast on my left arm and twisted it behind my back. I let out a scream of pain as a jolt of pain shot up the side of my arm, his grip quickly released and he continued on his way.

"WHAT's going on?!" demanded my mother, rushing over.

Tears collected around my eyes, and I dashed into my room before she came near me with my arm cradled in front of me. I instinctively sat myself in my chair, but found only a broken and half abolished computer screen staring back at me. I broke down into sobs, trying to keep them low and confidential. Then through the haze of my tears I noticed the small orange bottle containing my pain pills, I dashed over, and struggled to open it with one trembling hand. I finally used my teeth to unscrew it then spat the cap away, and chugged all the pills that managed to gather into my mouth, leaving the bottle half full. I struggled to swallow the clump of dry plastic pills, and almost choked a dozen times, but they defiantly slid slowly down my throat. I was still feeling the strangling bitterness going down the inside of my neck when I exited my room through my window. I then walked off, wiping away my tears and runny nose with the hand that wasn't paralyzed in pain.

I eventually found myself in front of a huge old brick library, through its glass doors it seemed deep and dark as a cave. But the sign in the front read; OPEN. So I cut across the extensive green lawn and came inside. The gargantuan library was almost engulfed in silence, except for the small chatting of a few far off people. The tall wood shelves against the walls and standing in straight lines all around, made the library seem ancient. And I was struck with disbelief when I found a small lab of apple computers in one isolated corner. I sat myself down at one of the computers, and I paranoid looked over both my shoulders, as if Taylor would pop out of no where and attack again.

I don't know whether it was more guilt or fear that kept me from the sites I usually visited, but I felt safe going to my hotmail, so I entered it. Feeling even more crestfallen at the fact the only emails I received over the past few weeks were from people that thought I was the beautiful Taylor. The emails were entitled; Hey smexy. Hey baby. which I quickly deleted, and while I was slowly deleting all the junk mail, I came upon an email entitled. "Who do you think you're fooling?" My heart jumped and my hand froze. Then I slowly clicked it open. It read;

"Those are beautiful pictures. But a class-photo and pictures of him sleeping isn't that impressive." I was about to delete it, thinking it was a classmate, but then I noticed that the email had been sent the day before Taylor had beat me down. So with no one else to talk to, I replied: "I'm going to delete all the pictures anyway." I then promptly exited out of my emails, and went to every individual website I had left pics of Taylor on and deleted them all. I was feeling a little calmer, and was about to leave the library, but I went back to my emails, to finish off deleting all the junk mail. And I was surprised that I had a new email response already. It said; "Don't do that, it's very good work. "

I quickly replied. "Too late, I just did."

An instant message chat box suddenly popped up on my screen and I almost jumped out of my seat.

"Why would you do such a thing? You obviously felt much passion when you were snapping those pics of that pretty boy."

"Because what I did was dumb. And that was my brother."

"You are dumb."

"Y?"

"Because you don't want to stop, you don't think it was dumb, and you don't care that it was your brother. He doesn't even seem like a brother to you."

"What the hell do u know?"

"You see anyone else secretly snapping pictures of their sibling while they sleep?"

"So what."

"You can't stop doing it. You love it too much. "

"I don't have a choice anyway"

"What do you mean?"

"He smashed my computer to bits."

"Horrible."

My fingers froze, and my injured arm started to feel better. No one had believed what happened to me was remotely wrong. This person was telling me everything I wanted to hear. He understood me to a creepy degree. Before I could type a response, he continued.

"Tell you what. I'll send you the money to buy a new computer."

My mind raced and I tingled all over, was it the drugs?

"Y" I finally replied

"Because he had no right do such a thing."

I couldn't think up a response.

"Just give me a P.O. box."

I know you should never give away any personal info on the internet. But at this point I was feeling lightheaded and almost unnaturally happy, was it really just the drugs? or the thought of getting back the most precious thing in my life; my computer.

"Fine sure whatever."

What's the harm? I thought. It was my father's P.O box anyway. It wasn't a direct address to our apartment or anything. So I gave him the info he requested.

"Good chattin with you."

"Right back at u." I answered with a small grin blossoming on my face.

"And don't stop doing what you love to do." he added before he exited out of the personal chat box.