Just the Tip

As much as some people may pretend otherwise, the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Monsters are real, living breathing assholes that walk among us, and most of the time they wear the faces, and have the personalities of the people we love and trust the most.  It’s a sad and twisted fact. A reality I have known all my life, and hated for just as long which is the reason I’m doubled over and gasping for air. The very real knee to the nuts might be a little to blame, as well.  Molly flutters around me, patting my back,...

Ghosts aren’t real.  There are plenty of things that go bump in the night but none of them are supernatural in any way. Or so I’ve always believed.  Until now. Until the ghost of my long dead brother wobbles before me. I drag oxygen into my burning lungs, attempt to hold it, but can’t. It leaves in a rush that sounds more like a wheeze than an exhale. “Sebastian.” He’s not the brother I remember. But somehow, exactly as I always pictured him. The spitting image of our mother—high cheekbones, straight slim nose, dark pink lips, but with our father’s...

Is this it? The beginning of the end.  Death stalks dumb men. The Reaper is patient, and is willing to play the long game in order to collect his final reward.  Am I a dumb man? Nothing more than a fool, happily strolling towards his own demise.  Nicolo Rastelli—my little brother, all grown up—walks beside me, his smile wide and dancing. Too pretty for his own damn good.  When the fuck did he grow up? What the hell is wrong with me that I’m noticing him in ways one brother should never notice another?  His fingers are laced with mine,...

Is this a dream? It has to be. None of this can possibly be real. Reality is cold and cruel, a merciless bitch with no thought or care for the suffering of mortals. Life is a living, breathing nightmare we all simply have to endure. Only, sometimes. It’s not.  I draw a shaky breath. “I missed you too.” Sebastian stands and pulls me to my feet before turning me around. “You hungry?” I shake my head as I look up, and up, and up. We always knew he’d be bigger than me, and here he is—built like a bruiser. So...

Something is seriously wrong with me.  Maybe over the last few years, owning my own MMA gym, training those who are willing to learn how to throw a heavy hit, and take one if necessary, I’ve taken too many gloves to the head.  What are the chances the last concussion I sustained gave me brain damage?  If the direction of my thoughts, and the way my body is reacting to my little brother straddling my lap, and clinging to me, is any indication . . . high. Really fucking high. I’m not sure how to politely disengage.  If he’s anything...

After Sebastian shows me his—our bedroom since it’s stupid of him to sleep on the sofa in his own home, he showers, while I change the bedsheets, dresses while I make room for myself in the closet, and pushes me out of the front door while his hair is still damp.  We stop by the recreational center so I can get my car, then I lead the way to the dorms.  The whole building is a hub of activity.  Last minute arrivals are hustling to move in before school starts on Wednesday. People are introducing themselves to the students they’ll...