Sleepy And Cotton Backstory One Shot

   I like sleeping; if I had to choose one adjective to describe myself, I would choose sleepy. Sleeping is where you can escape from pressures, deadlines, expectations, and all the bad things about life. That feeling when you’re up late at night, when you’re all alone without everything constantly swarming your head like an angry swarm of bees. It's like heaven, if heaven exists. When the world is at a standstill and you’re alone, but not in a bad way, a peaceful way. But with school, it interrupts my sleeping, my peace, my treat for getting through the day. The thing I look forward to, the thing that sometimes has to motivate me to get through all the people ruining my mood.

   I’m good at school, just like my parents want me to be. But I hate the nagging. It's always, “Charlie, do this to get an A,” and, “Charlie, did you do your homework?” I would understand if it was from my teacher, but it's from my parents. My lousy parents who seem to be obsessed with my academic life. And these dingy school hallways don't make it any better. The only thing blocking out the obnoxious kids’ loud conversations are my thoughts. My thoughts of sleeping and being at peace, trying my best not to think about any other factors, which is not working.

   But besides sleeping I have one other thing I love; something I can protect better than my time alone, and it's my sister. My dear younger sister named Cotton. I would probably sacrifice the world for her if she ever cried. I wouldn’t care about any consequences, I would even fight someone if she cried. And I’m a very non-violent person, so that’s saying something. She’s a very brave girl, trying to seem more mature than she has to be. We’ve always been told we’re mature for our age, since I’m 11 and she’s seven. But that’s just another standard we have to fill once someone tells us that. Maybe that’s why she never cries..

   “I hate it..” I murmur, trying to get past the groups of people blocking the hallways. I hate the expectations, the backhanded compliments, and the look in their eyes as I get a bad score on a test. Once I look past the kids and see the next corridor I have to walk though, I’m slightly relieved to see way less people. I speed up, but still stick near the wall so I’m not pancaked to the floor. Once I reach the double doors and walk through them, it's like that suffocating sensation of all the kids combined is lifted. There’s still people getting stuff from their lockers, a few people talking, but nothing like that hallway that seems like the popular kid hangout.

   “Charlie!” I hear a familiar voice cry, and I immediately turn around. “Cotton?” I respond, immediately worried for my sister. “What’s wrong?” I ask, bending down to meet her level of eyesight and grabbing her arm reassuringly. “Some mean person said mean things to me..” She replied, looking away guiltily. “Cotton, it's okay to tell me these things. I need to know if you want it to stop.” I coo, knowing she’s probably regretting telling me. She dismally nods, rubbing her hands. I stare at her for another second, she looks very hurt, but won’t cry. “Cotton, what did they say to you?” I inquire, knowing I’ll probably have to go talk to them. “I don’t want to tell you.” She said, trying to break free from my grasp.

   “Cotton.. You have to tell me, I’ll take care of it!” I know she probably doesn’t want to hurt my feelings with what she’s going to say, but I can take it. “If you think I’ll be sad I won’t.” I sigh, looking at her with pity. “I hate that face you do,” she said before starting to explain, “they said nasty things about us. And how we’re suck ups and yeah…” She trailed off, her eyes wandering. I know she wasn’t telling me the whole story, but I could infer what she meant. “Who was it?” I ask coldly, standing up and grabbing her hand to walk her to her class which is shockingly next to mine. “Arlo..” She murmured, barely a whisper. “Arlo.. As in Arlo Davis?” I ask, standing in front of her classroom door. She nodded and walked in, letting go of my hand. I can feel myself filling with disgust and anger, like a beaker full of so much water it's about to overflow.

   I want to punch him to tell him not to mess with Cotton. But I know better than to resort to physical violence. If I hit someone I’d get in so much trouble it wouldn’t be worth it. No matter how satisfactory and sweet the punch would be, I wouldn’t. I’m above them; at least, that’s what I’m told. I will make the decision to not resort to physical violence, it isn’t beneficial to me. I walk into my class, waiting for passing period so I can have a civil talk with Arlo, someone who has been tormenting Cotton ever since school started.

   Once the bell rings and class is over, I make a beeline to that ungodly crowded hallway where I know Arlo will be hanging out. Once I spot his shaggy blond hair, I walk up to him. He seems to be talking to someone but I interrupt anyway, why should I respect this degenerate? “Arlo?” I ask, getting his attention. He sneers at me and crosses his arms. “What do you want? Did your little sibling run crying to you for a hug?” He asks, mocking Cotton. I hate when people talk about others behind their back, especially when it's about Cotton. “I’m here to ask you why you feel the need to put my sister down, is it because you’re insecure or something?” I ask, he’s getting on my nerves already. As much as I would love to knock some sense into his thick skull, I know Cotton wouldn’t like that. Punching him would be way too much work, if my punch wasn’t strong enough, he could beat me up instead. He could dodge and end up mocking and humiliating me. And don’t get me started on all the repercussions I would face, not at home but at school too. I’m above resorting to violence, but he probably isn’t. So I'll stick to verbal reprimands and jabs.

   “Insecure? Hah. As if. You think that freak would make me insecure? The only thing making me insecure is talking to you, you might ruin my popularity.” Arlo said, quickly adding the last part. I stare at him blankly, he’s like an elementary school bully, despite being in sixth grade. A sixth grader picking on a second grader, how vile. “Arlo, what can I do to make you stop picking on Cotton?” I sigh, done with this conversation. “What could a fifth grader like you even do?” He sneered again. I’m so done with him thinking he’s better than everyone. “Why does my grade matter?” I ask, giving him a confused look. “I never said it does, stop putting words in my mouth!” He laughed, howling like a wolf with his friends. “Why are you laughing? That wasn’t even funny.” I said blankly.

   “You just don’t understand popular humor.” He laughed again, playfully hitting his friend on the back. I rolled my eyes and looked away, I couldn’t stand to look at that annoying face again. As I surveyed the crowd who tried to act like they weren’t listening I spotted Cotton. Rage boiled throughout my entire body. Cotton was crying.

   I immediately turned to Arlo, disgust coursing through my veins. Maybe it was everything building up, like a giant boulder I had to carry around everywhere. Maybe it was because I saw red; but I could still think clearly. I could’ve stopped my fist from flying through the air and knocking out a loose tooth of his. But I didn’t. I didn’t care anymore, this was my choice. My choice was to protect my sister. I don’t care what everyone thinks anymore. I knocked him to the ground with a single punch, the perfect punch. Once he fell to the floor my ears seemed to stop working, all I saw was his hideous face, the only one who hurt Cotton so bad she started crying. I let myself go, punching his face to make sure he’ll never hurt her again. I could feel arms trying to pull me off of him, but I resisted. His piercing brown eyes stared at me, the only coherent thing in this madness. His eyes made me swell with even more anger. Those eyes laughed and mocked Cotton. He can’t be forgiven. This reminded me of that one story I read, “The Tell Tale Heart,” I understood what the man, Edgar Allan Poe, meant now.. Arlo had those vulture eyes, just like that old man. He was evil, disgustingly evil, and those eyes were making me seethe with rage. My body was piercing cold; perhaps from anger? Fear? Regret? No.. not regret… I felt hands forcefully rip me off Arlo and in a whirr of confusion and anger I ended up at the principal’s office, telling them what happened.

   “I was angry, so angry. But the rage and anger didn’t force me to beat him down to the floor. I chose to do it. It was a conscious choice. A choice I don’t regret in the slightest. I am willing to accept any punishment you give me, but I am not sorry for beating him up to protect my sister.” I said loud and clearly, feeling indignant that I was being punished for this. This was my first time being in the office for something bad. Usually I was called in for compliments, compliments forcing me to try better because now it was an expectation. “How dare you!” I could hear my parents yell and scream at me, but I blocked them out. I stared directly at Cotton, with a pitying gaze. I know she hated it, but I really felt sorry she had to go through all that. I felt sorry I had to bring her to the front office instead of talking with friends or doing school work. Now she’s going to have to do make-up work tomorrow.

   “It’s decided.” The principal concluded, making me jump. I had totally tuned them out with my thoughts. I would for sure rather be sleeping right now. “Your child will face three weeks of detention after getting back from a week-long suspension starting today.” The principal boomed, like a loud gong. “That’s all?” I murmured quietly. “What about Arlo?” I inquire, wondering how bad his punishment will be compared to mine. “Arlo Davis is not being punished.” The principal responded, looking at me like I was a stupid little kid who asked if the sky was blue because it reflected off the ocean. “That is unfair and unjust!” I responded, immediately standing up. “Sit back down! This is not how my perfect son acts!” My mother yelled, slamming her hand on the table. I immediately sat back down but continued to glare at the principal. “At least my punch was perfect.” I retort in my head, glancing at my mother. “Charlie, you caused him to lose a tooth. You beat him up unprovoked and caused a whole raucous. This physical altercation will not be tolerated at my school!” The principal shot back, glaring daggers at me. I rolled my eyes and looked at the door, the vice principal was standing there, basically trapping me here like a cordon until we were let out.

   As we walked out the school doors, I squeezed Cotton’s hand, trying to let her know I’d be there for her. “He’s just going to be more mean.” She whispered, her small voice barely audible. “..I’m sorry, Cotton. I’m sorry you were dragged into this.” I whispered back, my voice breaking as I stepped into the car that had the overwhelming stench of car air fresheners.

   The car ride home was horrid, the silence was so loud. If the tension was tangible, I could suffocate in it. When the relief of finally being home hit, I immediately went to my room. Cotton was quick to follow me, trying to stay out of our insanely angry and disappointed parents’ gaze. Once we entered our shared bedroom, I immediately hugged Cotton. “It’ll be okay.” I said, smiling. “But you won’t..” She sniffled, hugging me back. “It’s fine, as long as you’re okay, I will be too.” I responded, tears forming in my eyes. “We’re all we have, so I can’t let anyone hurt you.” I sniffled, looking up at the ceiling so I wouldn’t cry. Cotton hugged me tightly, not wanting to let go either. “I’m sorry you had to do that.” She said faintly, burying her head in my shirt. “It’s okay.. After all, I learned that we might be the only ones who care for each other.” I said softly, staring off into space, trying my best to stay strong for Cotton like she has for me.

   As I laid in bed I stared blankly at the bottom of our bunk bed. It's time to sleep, my one release from all the pains everyone causes me. Since I’m practically on house arrest, I can sleep however much I want when my parents aren’t home. But for some reason, I don’t feel relieved. I gripped the blanket tightly, curling up, but I can’t sleep peacefully, or even at all, thinking about how nobody is there to protect Cotton at school. Nobody else will stand up for her, what kind of unjust world do we live in? A world where a seven year old has to fear where she walks. I don’t want Cotton to deal with that. Why is it all going downhill? I did everything that was asked of me.. I close my heavy eyelids, trying to forget all my worries and drift into my sleep. My sweet sleep, the thing that I love second to Cotton.