“You know how you always wished that you had a brother?” Little did I know that following these 11 words was the biggest curse to come into the life of Julian. The next 9 months were spent with great anticipation to meet the child who I was sure would become my best friend. I cannot stress or explain in any words to you how absolutely wrong I was.
The day of November 11th, 2011 the antichrist himself arrived. No, actually that comparison can’t be made, because the antichrist would run screaming from my brother. But young, naive, 10 year old Julian didn’t know this. Yet. I walked into the room where my mother had given birth to him, it was a small, slightly crowded room filled with doctors’ tools I didn’t and still do not know the name of. The smell was strange something I can’t find a name for, and I wish I took that as a sign of what was to come. I then laid eyes on the newborn cradled in my mother’s arms. A small, lumpy head filled with large, shining, confused eyes looked back up into mine.
Let’s fast forward 2 or 3 years later. The evil little beast of a human being started learning how to talk. Prior to this, I was finally starting to make small realizations about the darkness which resided in my little brother. But here’s where things made a turn for the worse. The words of Satan found their way into my home. The constant yelling that a banshee could not hope to reach became a part of my daily life. Just when things couldn’t get any worse, it got worse. The demon child learned to walk. There are no words that I can hope to imagine that would be capable of describing the immeasurable disasters that were wrought through our house. A hybrid of a category 6 hurricane and a magnitude 8 earthquake could not stand a fraction of a chance against my little brother. This young man, I promise you, will one day be the cause of armageddon.
Young Julian had no clue what he was in for. If I could go back in time, I would smack my young doppelganger so hard that my present self 6 years later would feel the sting. Though the pain would be massive, it would have cancelled out the much greater pain that I have suffered within the 5 years and 11 months of my brother’s existence. I consider 11 to be my cursed number. It’s when my brother was born, on the eleventh of November on 2011. They say the number 666 is the number of the of the devil but I assure you it should be 11-11-11. I’ve been through alot, constantly fighting the barbaric monstrosity of Giovanni Marcelino, and in a way it’s changed me into who I am today.
But let me tell you there’s not a single person on the face of this planet that I love more than my little brother.