I came to bang

Summer of 1998

“Ya taken to the bottle again then ya? Where were ya when Greg needed to be picked up from futbol, Bobby!? You promised you would stop going to the pub so much!" 

"Woman, mind yer own business I’ll do as I please! Maybe if you didn’t stand around nagging all the time I’d want to come home and relax. I’ve been workin’ all damn day while you’ve been at home lollygaggin’ and twiddling your thumbs!”

A young boy with brown hair the color of milk chocolate and the brightest of blue eyes covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to drown out the noise of his parents. It didn’t work. Just five years old, the poor boy caught in the middle of a trivial fight between his parents rocked back and forth, just wishing for once the evening would move along without all that loud noise. He wished he could go to sleep, leaving it all behind until morning when he saw them staring at each other across the breakfast table with no love in their eyes. And then it begin all over again, but at least then he could be at school with his friends.

Jumping off his bed, the young boy quickly ran towards his door, flung it open, and across the hall to another door. A big sign with the words “Keep Out” hung on it. The boy lifted up both of his tiny little fists and banged on the door, willing his older brother to open it…just once.

“Greg! Greg! Please let me in!” The boy waited, rocking on his heels back and forth impatiently. He was never one to stay still for too long, always on the tips of his toes or the souls of his heels. The adorable brown headed child waited for his brother to open the door like he used to do; it had been a few months since his brother let him sleep with him, cuddled to his chest to drown out the noise. But the door didn’t open like every other night; Loud music cranked up and vibrated the door instead. Younger brother, left to fend for himself, jutted out his bottom lip in a pout and banged one last time on the door before scurrying down the stairs. He ran past his parents, who bothered to pause and question his presence, before flinging open the back door and darting into the tall green grasses of the hills of Mullingar, Ireland.