it got blurry cuz i've had enough

Instructions

Will walked down the street on a late Saturday night. This wasn’t a good time, seeing how he was very vulnerable and almost about to collapse from anxiety. Being a criminal investigator, he should’ve known this was coming. The hunter becoming the hunted. The only problem was that his own brother was looking for him. Now, every time that Will ever thought of Ethan, chills were sent down his spine. He remembered everything that happened that one night. Excessive amounts of torture, blood, and betrayal. He remembered the sirens he called coming for him before blacking out from blood loss. Even looking in the mirror sickened Will enough to immediately stick his face in the toilet. His whole frame was covered in scars pulled together by stitches. All he saw were blacks, blues, purples, yellows, and pinks. He hated showing up to work to see worried faces from his co-workers and even his own boss. All of this, from his brother. The brother that his mother worried for in the past seven years. The brother that had to lock himself in his room just to not freak out Will himself. The brother that ran away, fearful of his reputation ever since he caused an incident that shattered his entire view of the world. Will hated this. He really did. Thinking of his mother, Will pulled out his phone from the front pocket from his jeans and called her. He wiped his nose as he heard the ringing. After waiting a minute or so, the call went to voicemail. He groaned, hearing the same woman’s voice go “at the tone, please record your voice message.” He rubbed his face in disappointment and frustration. “Hey Ma, Will again. I know you must be mad at me for not calling about my little and rather deadly interaction with your older son.” He paused, trying to make sure he formed the right words. “Ethan… He-he’s a psycho. He almost killed me… I-I-I can’t sleep at night because of him. He haunts me, Mom. I don’t want to keep looking for him. I don’t think that the both of us should.” Another pause. “Call me back later… Love you.” Will pressed the end button and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He bit his lip as a painful ball of fire formed in his throat and he began to cry. His blistered and cut hands reached for his face to wipe the tears away and cover his mouth. He was feeling sick again.