At the tender age of 14, my Steven had already began to push the limits of his 'rebel' phase of his life. Although he was still to young to drive, his bedtimes turned into curfews which (in worse cases) turned into early mornings and next day bitch outs for him when he would go out with his friends. Girls had begun to enter his life, calling the house and usually kicking me off the internet. And even a friendly police encounter which lead my parents to the front door of the house with my brother, head hanging in shame as he held a lighter and half burnt t-shirt. What could my parents do? Grounding him in his room was temporary, taking away the television did nothing to phase him and keeping him away from his friends seemed to antagonize him further.

It was one summer evening. Some neighbor friends of our parents came over for a small bonfire. Their children came along as well. They were around my brother's age. Their own little group that would float from inside our house, to the outside and back drinking Coke's. I was outside shooting some basketball with Sam, my youngest brother. I wasn't really good at it. I had to use a smaller basketball. It was easier for me to shoot, dribble even make slam dunks when the height was at 7 feet. As Sam called it quits for the night and walked back inside, out came Steven and his followers of jackasses.

"Hey, don't you have a match or something for your little computer game soon?" sneered Steven.

"Usually its the bigger brother who gives the smaller brother a harder time." I noted.

Steven walks onto the driveway towards me having a nice little smirk on his face. I quickly shoot the ball out of my hands and it bounces hard off the backboard. Steven runs to grab it.

I stand where I was as Steven begins to dribble all around me. He shoots the ball behind me and makes quite an impressive shot.

"Woo, thats what I'm talking about!" he cheers.

"Can I have my basketball back? There is more in the garage."

"Why don't you get those balls?"

"They suck, besides I had that one first."

Steven holds up the basketball.

"Oh, this one?" He holds it out in front of me before throwing it hard against my chest. He smiles wryly and makes his way to the garage. My anger rises.

"You know, you've got quite an ego for a 14 year old."

He doesn't respond. I dribble for a couple moments and shoot again. It hits off the rim and cascades down towards the cement. I run for the ball, only to be cut off by him darting in front of me. My anger rises.

"Steven, give me back the ball."

He passes the ball hard at me once again towards my face. I barely catch it.

"What's your problem?" I shout. I spike the ball on the ground and march towards him.

"You wanted the ball, I was just giving it to you. Nerd!" He yells. His friends laugh in approval. My anger his the limit.

"I'm sick and tired of you Steven!" I scream. I lunge after him and grapple him. We scuffle back and forth past the driveway out in the front yard. He pushes away only before I grab at him again, despriately trying to throw him to the ground.

"Dude, get off me." he says as we continue to struggle. I grab his shirt, my hand has a firm grasp of his collar. He tries to break free but the anger channeled towards my hands. Bright red. Blood flowing.

He knows I'm angry. He sees the hate in my face. His game he played wasn't so funny. It was a blur. To what felt like an eternity was only a matter of seconds. I threw him towards the cement. I threw him as hard as I could. I thought of all of his arrogance, his disrespect, his teasing. I focused it all. And I threw him.

He his the cement hard with a sickening thud. He almost seemed to bounce off like on a mat of sorts. He cried out in pain. His friends stood up from the stairs they sat at and only looked on in disbelief. I was breathing heavily. I stood over him.

This is what you get

Don't ever do this again.

I hate you

Sam rushed out with our parents. My brother cried out in pain still. He tried to grab towards his right shoulder but cried out in pain. My mom rushed over to him and made sure he was alright.

"Steven, can you move your shoulder? Steven, it's going to be okay. Steven." my mom soothed.

A small crowd of our neighbors came out to peek.

"He might have a dislocated shoulder but he should be okay." my mother announced. "Lets get him up."

***

"Steven, come here! We have something for you." my mother called out. We were all i n the living room and saw Steven march up from the downstairs to where we were.

"We all wanted to give you something for your graduation honey." my mother smiled. Steven sat on the couch quietly as my mother held out a big book in front of him.

"We did this for your brother when he graduated and now we have one for you too!"

He quietly flips through the pages. He smiles, points out particular pictures and chuckles.

"Wow, this is great Mom. You did all of this?"

"I worked on it all year. I wanted you to have it before you went to college."

He finished the book and looked at it and began to swell up. He began to cry.

"Thank you momma." he cried.

My mom came to hug him. He embraced back.

That was the first time I ever saw my brother cry. It was the first time I ever saw him actually...in that state. A complete state of emotion. I never saw him like that nor did I ever expect it. I tried to watch the television and trying to look away but I couldn't help but think.

I stood up and made my way outside. Sam was outside, shooting hoops with the same small basketball I used many years ago. He shoots the ball up and it smacks against the backboard and falls. I reach over to pick it up. He stands with hands in front of him ready to catch it. I smile and pass it over to him.

"Keep at it little guy."