Disowned in Prison, I Found New Family

Five years after cutting ties with my entire family, I see them outside the prison. They're here to help my younger brother, Hugo Strasser, complete the paperwork for his new job as a correctional officer. Meanwhile, I'm the inmate being released. The moment Mom and Dad see me, they freeze, awkwardness hanging in the air. "Mikey, we didn't have a choice back then when we asked you to take the blame for Hugo," Mom finally says after a long silence. "I never expected you to cut us off on the spot and refuse to call us even once during all these years in prison…" I pull away from her outstretched hand, gather up the last of my belongings, and turn to leave. As I pass them, Dad suddenly grabs me by the sleeve. "Mikey, it's been five years!" Dad cries, his eyes red. "How long are you going to hold a grudge over something that happened years ago? Is this really how you're going to treat your parents and your brother? "Whatever you have to say, come home and talk to us. You don't have anywhere else to go without us…" What is there left to say? I'm no longer the same boy who once desperately craved his family's love. Besides… I glance at the car parked nearby and force my arm free from Dad's grip. "I have somewhere to go. My real family's waiting for me." Chapter 1 Dad's temper flared when I pulled away from his hand. "Mike, have you completely lost your mind in prison?" he bellowed. "You don't even recognize your own parents anymore? "It's been five years, and you're still just as stubborn as ever. You'll never be half as likeable as Hugo!" His voice was loud enough to draw the attention of several correctional officers nearby, making the situation even more awkward. "Keep your voice down," Mom said, patting his arm and signaling him to calm down. "Don't make things difficult for Hugo." Then, she turned to me and forced a smile. "Mikey, that's just how your father is," she added, her voice suddenly cautious and placating. "Don't take it personally. You haven't contacted us all these years because you really think we wanted to send you to prison, don't you? "You silly boy. You're our son too. If you hadn't rejected our calls and insisted on serving the sentence yourself, we would have found a lawyer and gotten you out." Her eyes reddened, and she looked every bit like a helpless, heartbroken mother. But she'd apparently forgotten one thing. I hadn't done anything wrong in the first place, and they had forced the charges onto me only because they wanted to protect Hugo Strasser. "Don't worry about me," I said calmly, taking a step back. "The day you asked me to take the blame for Hugo, we stopped being a family." Dad's face immediately darkened. "Look at him! Just look at that attitude! How did we end up with such an ungrateful son?" He raised his hand as if he were about to strike me, but the sudden ringing of his phone stopped him. He hurriedly answered it. Hugo's lazy drawl came through the speaker, "Dad, I'm done with my paperwork. Drive around to the west gate and pick me up. The main entrance is too far, and I don't feel like walking. "Okay! We're coming right now." Mom quickly picked up the conversation, trying to smooth things over. "You heard that, Mikey? Even after all these years, Hugo's still as lazy as ever… "Why don't you come home with us? It's his first day on the job, and he's in a great mood. We're family. We shouldn't hold grudges forever, right? Come home with us." "Enough!" I didn't want to listen to them put on another performance about being a happy family, so I turned to leave. But Mom grabbed my arm. Her force sent me, who barely weighed 100 pounds after five years in prison, tumbling to the ground. She stared at me for a long moment, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Even Dad froze when he saw the state I was in. "Are you picky about food in prison too? How did you lose this much weight?" I couldn't believe how ridiculous his question was. Because of Hugo's bipolar disorder, they believed he was so fragile that he had to be protected from anything that might hurt him. But because I was healthy, they thought I could take anything. So, whenever Hugo did something wrong, I was the one who took the blame and punishment. When Hugo put a bug in the principal's water bottle, my parents were afraid that punishing him would trigger an episode, so I was the one publicly disciplined by the school. When Hugo bullied someone at school and nearly got that person killed, I took the blame and was labeled the mastermind. After that, I ended up not having any friends at school. It wasn't until the last time, when Hugo did something far worse… That was the first time I refused to take the blame for him. Dad had slapped me hard across the face. The blow ruptured my eardrum, and to this day, I couldn't hear anything in that ear. Five years had passed, and Hugo had successfully graduated from the police academy. He had a bright future ahead of him, which was good for him. "Come home with you? Then what?" I shot back, my voice cold. "Are you actually going to acknowledge me as your son again? "If people find out that Hugo has a convicted felon for a brother, his future could be ruined." Both of my parents' faces immediately went pale. Hugo called again, his increasingly impatient voice urging them to hurry. Mom and Dad looked conflicted, but in the end, they still turned around and got into the car. Chapter 2 After picking up Hugo, that familiar black sedan passed by the main entrance again. As it drove past me, I could hear their laughter and cheerful conversation through the open window. The correctional officer I was familiar with, Jared Beckham, couldn't help but comment, "That new guy seems really close with his family. "Last time his parents came to visit, they brought him clothes and even took us out for a meal. They just wanted to make sure we looked after him. "By the way, I saw you talking with them for a while just now. Do you know them?" "Yeah." I smiled. "I used to be their son too." Jared's eyes widened. He probably couldn't understand how two children from the same family could end up on such completely different paths—one a convicted felon, the other a correctional officer. But a long time ago, I'd been the beloved son my parents cherished more than anything. Every day after work, Dad's first stop was a bakery across town. He would wait in line just to bring home one of my favorite cakes. He always tucked the still-warm cake carefully inside his jacket, afraid it would get cold on the way home. Every night, Mom would sit beside my bed and softly tell me stories about my favorite superhero until I drifted off to sleep. Her phone gallery was filled with pictures of me smiling, crying—every little moment of my childhood. Whenever the three of us took pictures together, they would pull me into the middle and hold me close. "Mikey, you will always be our favorite boy!" they'd say. Even after Hugo was born, they never loved me any less. But Hugo had been a handful from the time he was little. One day he'd get into a fight with another kid, and the next day he'd come home after getting beaten up himself. Mom and Dad were constantly dealing with his latest mess while also worrying that I might feel neglected. So whenever Hugo's troublemaking caused them to overlook me, they'd buy me a gift to make up for it. That continued until Hugo turned seven years old. One day, without any warning. He jumped from the second floor of his school. Mom and Dad missed my parent-teacher meeting that day and didn't come home until very late. When they finally returned, Mom's eyes were red from crying. "Your brother's sick," she sobbed. "From now on, we're going to have to spend a lot more time looking after him. If we didn't, something terrible could happen to him one day. "Mikey, you're his older brother. Can you understand why we have to do this?" "Mikey, you're the big brother," Dad added, his voice hoarse. "From now on, you need to help us take care of Hugo." I wanted to make things easier for them, so I nodded without hesitation. "I'll take good care of him!" I was too young back then to understand what bipolar disorder was, and I didn't understand the weight of my promise. So, I never imagined that such an innocent promise would end up changing the course of my entire life. Chapter 3 At first, taking care of Hugo meant giving up my toys whenever he hit other people because he wanted something, then stepping in to apologize on his behalf. But eventually, he learned how to use his condition to get what he wanted. Whenever he set his sights on something, the worst he'd do was throw things or hit someone. At worst, he'd hurt himself or threaten to jump off a building. And I went from apologizing for him to taking the blame for him, then eventually taking responsibility for his crimes. Compared to keeping Hugo alive, everyone treated my willingness to give in as something they could take for granted. My parents' attention toward me grew less and less until almost all of their time and energy revolved around Hugo. Then came my birthday. I'd earned my first paycheck from a part-time college job and used it to buy a cake. I'd even carefully picked out gifts for Mom and Dad. I lit the candles and waited for them to come home, but they were still nowhere to be seen when the candles burned all the way down. Midnight came and went, but my phone remained silent. Eventually, I couldn't keep my eyes open and fell asleep. Later, I was jolted awake by the sound of the front door opening. Just as I forced a smile and prepared to show them the gifts I'd prepared, Dad knocked the cake onto the floor. "What are you doing, sitting here eating cake at a time like this?" he roared, his face twisted with irritation. "Hugo's in serious trouble, and you're still thinking about celebrating?" Mom stared at the ruined cake and suddenly broke down sobbing. "What are we going to do? Hugo has bipolar disorder. If we're not there for him, he could kill himself! He's still so young!" Then, Mom turned toward me. "Mikey, please. I'm begging you," she cried. "Help Hugo one last time!" "Help him with what?" A terrible feeling settled in my stomach, and my voice trembled. "Take the blame for Hugo…" Mom's voice trailed off as she looked past me toward Dad. Hugo slowly emerged from behind him, sobbing so hard that his whole body shook. I'd never seen him cry like that before. My mind went blank as I stared at him. "What happened?" Chapter 4 "Hugo… He…" Mom sobbed, her voice trembling. "His homeroom teacher scolded him, and he shoved her to the ground." "And then?" I pressed. Dad closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "She was eight months pregnant. She and the baby both died." My head spun, and I staggered before finally finding my voice again. "So… What do you want me to do?" "Mikey, will you take the blame for him?" Mom pleaded, gripping my arm tightly. "We've looked into it. Even the lightest sentence for something like this would mean juvenile detention. Hugo's bipolar disorder is severe. If he gets sent there, he'll die. "His whole life is just beginning! Your college can wait. We'll take care of the withdrawal paperwork later. Don't worry. We'll sell everything we have to hire the best lawyer we can find. We'll do everything possible to get you out." I stared at her in disbelief, my legs going weak. "What about me?" I asked, incredulous. "I worked my ass off to get into the college I wanted. You can just throw my future away?" Mom looked hurt. "Why would you think of it that way?" she cried. "Hugo's sick! You're his older brother. Isn't taking care of him what you're supposed to do? Forget college. Your father and I will support you for the rest of your life! "Once this is over, it won't affect your future at all." Tears burned in my eyes as I glowered at her. "I can't do this!" I shouted. Hugo immediately burst into tears, Dad stormed over and slapped me across the face. The force knocked me to the floor, and my ear felt hot and wet. When I reached up to touch it, my hand came away covered in blood. The moment Hugo realized I was finally fighting back, something shifted in his eyes. He suddenly started crying and threatened to jump from the window. "Mikey doesn't care about me anymore! I don't want to live! My life is already ruined anyway!" Mom and Dad thought he was having another episode. They panicked and immediately wrapped their arms around him, desperately trying to calm him down. "Hugo, don't be afraid. Mom and Dad won't let anything happen to you! We'll take care of everything. We promise!" I stared at them blankly as they scrambled to comfort Hugo. "So that's how it works in this family?" I murmured. "As long as you threaten to kill yourself, you can do whatever you want? What if I killed myself too? What would you do then?" The only response I got was a glass flying through the air. "Your brother is sick!" Dad roared. "How can you even compare yourself to him? He only became this way because we spent all our time and attention on you when you were younger and neglected him!" The glass shattered against my head, blood and liquid running down my face together. Whatever last bit of hope I'd had for my parents finally died. They locked me in my bedroom and took away my phone. From outside the door, I could hear them trying to calm Hugo down. My head throbbed, and everywhere I reached, my hands were covered in blood. Blood trickled from my head and my ear, smearing across my face. I fought through the pain and pounded on the door, begging for help, but my voice was quickly drowned out by Hugo's sobbing and screaming. I could only watch as the light beneath the door slowly faded. The voices outside grew quieter until everything went silent, and darkness finally swallowed me whole. Chapter 5 When I woke up again, the media had already branded me a cold-blooded murderer, and my school had officially expelled me. The day I was expelled happened to be Hugo's birthday. Mom and Dad said Hugo only got to celebrate his birthday once a year, so we couldn't let it pass without celebrating. While they celebrated, I curled up alone in my room, covering my injured ears as I came across the news that I'd been expelled and convicted. I tried to defend myself, but the things people were saying online left me completely hopeless. "Who would believe anything this murderer says? He shoved an eight-months-pregnant teacher, and now he's trying to frame his own brother to clear his name?" "A murderer is a murderer." Even the victim's family and eyewitnesses had been paid off by my parents. They all gave the same false testimony, pointing the finger at me. At the moment I felt most hopeless, I came across a post from my parents celebrating Hugo's birthday. In the photo, Dad was peeling shrimp for Hugo while everyone smiled happily around him. For some reason, I found myself hitting the like button. My phone immediately rang. "It's Hugo's birthday today!" Dad's furious voice burst through the speaker. "Do you have to ruin it for everyone?" All the emotions I'd been holding in for so long finally came pouring out. "What did I ever do wrong?" I cried. "Why are you treating me like this?" The only response I got was Hugo's voice in the background, impatiently asking for his birthday present as he cut the cake. "Hugo's been in a bad mood lately. Get him a present for his birthday. Otherwise, he won't forgive you." That was all they said before hurriedly hanging up. Then, dozens of calls from unfamiliar numbers started flooding my phone. "Go to hell, you piece of trash!" "A monster like you deserves to pay with your life!" The comments online kept pouring in too. "Even after all this, his parents are still trying to protect him. They've already hired several different lawyers to get his sentence reduced as much as possible." "What an ungrateful brat! He doesn't deserve a family that good." When I reached this point in the story, the prison guard fell silent. "Are there really parents like that?" he asked, looking at me in disbelief. "How could anyone treat their own family that way?" I gave him a bitter smile. "That's why I cut ties with them. I'd already gathered all the evidence I needed to prove my innocence. Once my conviction was overturned, I could go back and finish—" A piece of cake flew straight into my face, cutting me off mid-sentence. I wiped the frosting from my eyes, only to smear it all over my hands. It looked just like my life—an absolute mess. Dad came charging toward me, his eyes bloodshot with rage, and slapped me across the face again. "After everything, I even thought I owed you a birthday celebration. I bought that cake to make it up to you. "Mike! How could we have raised such a monster? Are you really determined to drive your brother to his grave?"