Revenge for my brother

My twin brother, Ethan, was dead.

Only then did my parents remember me, his “crazy” older brother, pulling me from the psych ward. They kept his death a secret, his body hidden in a freezer in our living room. I was to pretend to be him, go to school, and make everyone who'd hurt him pay. Even Brittany, the head cheerleader, Ethan’s unattainable crush, would eventually kneel before me, begging for mercy.

1

Ethan had killed himself. Mom and Dad recounted his torment on the drive home from the hospital, a place that had been my prison for ten years.

The freezer in the living room hummed a morbid tune. Inside, Ethan looked almost peaceful, like he was sleeping. But the illusion shattered when I saw the bruises, the cigarette burns hidden beneath his clothes. New wounds layered over old ones, a testament to the sustained abuse he endured.

His phone buzzed incessantly. I unlocked it with facial recognition. Messages flooded the screen.

"Ethan Miller, you think you can skip school and get away with it?"

"Don't forget, I've got those pictures of you and that… girl. Imagine what Brittany would think if she saw you cheating."

"Be at school tomorrow, or you'll regret it."

The last message was a video. I clicked play. It showed Ethan in a dingy motel room, pinned down and forced to kiss an obese woman. His clothes were ripped, his face contorted in disgust. The laughter of his tormentors echoed in the room, making my stomach churn.

Mom and Dad gripped my hands. I understood. They wanted revenge.

They drove me to school. I walked into the classroom wearing Ethan's paint-splattered jacket, my eyes scanning the room. The teacher sneered, pointing to a desk next to the trash can.

"Ethan Miller, skipping school again? You're clearly not interested in education. You belong with the trash."

Ignoring the stares, I sat down. I remembered Ethan kept a diary. I found it, tattered and worn, tucked inside the desk.

His entries chronicled his despair, his helplessness, and his secret love for Brittany. Every time her name appeared in the diary, another incident of bullying followed. He wrote about her telling him, “Even when life is hard, we have to find the courage to start over.” Words meant to be encouraging, but to Ethan, trapped in a cycle of abuse, they must have sounded like a cruel joke.

Reading the diary, I realized this wasn't just simple bullying. Someone was orchestrating Ethan's misery, pushing him towards the edge.

2

The bell rang. Before the teacher could react, a guy with dyed blond hair swaggered towards me, followed by his posse. This was Jason Riley, the ringleader, the one who, according to the diary, had orchestrated Ethan’s suffering.

Jason smirked, gesturing to his cronies. They dragged me to the bathroom. Inside a stall, two of them held my arms, ready to dunk my head in the toilet.

"Ethan Miller, messing with me? You really think I won't send those pictures to Brittany?" Jason’s voice dripped with venom. "What are you waiting f...