You’ll never forget the look on his face
The terror in his eyes as you walk toward him,
Your arm raised and fiery, unjust anger burning in your eyes.
You’ll never forget the sound of your palm connecting with his face.
The sound of his first cry of surprise,
His scream of anguish.
You’ll never forget the fiery red reflection of your palm on his cheek
You’ll never forget how young he looks as he reaches up with both of his hands to hold his face,
The tears filling up his eyes and pouring down his cheeks.

You’ll feel bad later
When you realize what you’ve done
You’ll wish you had the courage to meet his no longer innocent eyes with your own,
And tell him how sorry you are,
How wrong you were to treat him so badly.
But you don’t
And you won’t
And the guilt you feel will travel with you.
Every time you see a small boy around the age of ten you will feel ashamed
Ashamed of your actions.
Ashamed of your life.
Ashamed of yourself.
When you see him again, when you gather up the courage to go back to the family you came from
You’ll see his face, his young trusting face-
the face that has forgiven you so readily for a crime so heinous-
And you’ll want to cry.
You’ll want to cry from the shame of what you’ve done.
You’ll want to cry for him, and the pain he still feels
But you can’t cry.
You wont cry.
You choose not to care, not to wonder,
Not to feel the river of guilt and shame coursing through your rigid body-
So you look away, make excuses,
Ignore him,
You ignore my brother-
and his pain.

You’ll eventually stop remembering.
You’ll stop thinking of the pain you caused
You’ll stop remembering the way it felt when you hit him.
The way he looked at you.
You’ll stop hearing the split second of shocked silence that froze the room after you struck my innocent little brother.
You’ll stop seeing his pain in the faces of other little children.
You’ll stop wondering about yourself, you’re attitude, your lack of self-control,
You’re absolute disregard for the people around you.
You’ll stop remembering.

I wont.
I wont be able to.
I’ll never be able to stop hearing the sound of your palm
striking the young skin of my brother’s face.
I’ll never forget the way he screamed.
The way he sobbed.
The stark red imprint of your palm on his face.
I’ll never forget how the mark you left lasted for hours.
That he had to go to his party with red eyes and a palm print on his cheek.
I’ll never forget how he had to make up some lame excuse to explain away the mark you left.
I’ll never forget that his host had to question to himself
whether or not he should go call the authorities, whether or not he should ask questions.

I’ll never forget.

I’ll never forget watching you walk over to him
Hold his face still with your right hand
And bring your left hand down on his face so hard it sent reverberating shocks down both of your arms.
And my heart.

I’ll never forget.
I’ll never forget the way I stood still as you walked past me.
I’ll never forget how I betrayed him, my innocent little brother.
I let you pass by me.
I knew you were going to hit him, my beloved innocent little brother.
And I stood still.
I let you pass.

I will never forget that.

I will never forget.