The Fence

The Fence

A Story by Bryan

A story I wrote for school... I don't know where the inspiration came from, it just came to me...


I sat leaning against the old fence that enclosed our yard, staring up at the sky. The fence had been there for as long as I could remember, it was rotten and nobody had ever cared to repair it. The fence had been a part of my life forever. Whenever I needed an escape from life I would lean against it, basking in the quiet beauty of nature. Nobody bothered me as I sat outside alone. I never knew if they didn’t care or if they knew I needed to be by myself. I could hear my brother screaming from inside the house. Furniture, lamps and other objects crashing to the floor. I tuned it all out. I imagined I could leave, somewhere else, somewhere I could be free.


My family sat quietly at the breakfast table, there was an anxious feel in the air. Everybody was tense, not a word was said. My brother, Tommy, was sitting across the table. His forehead was wrinkled and his teeth were clenched. He was easily angered at the smallest of things. Unaware of what I was doing, I began to stare.

“What do you want?” Tommy asked, glaring at me, his tone gave away he was angry.

I jumped in surprise. I clenched the chair beneath me, bracing for the eruption that may follow. I mumbled an inaudible response, and resumed my meal.

He tilted his head down, sheltering himself from everyone else at the table. He began forcefully shoveling his eggs into his mouth.

My brother was unable to control his anger. My parents were oblivious to the fact that he had issues and needed help. My mother couldn’t handle it, some days she would shut herself away from the world, I could shout in her face and she wouldn’t respond. On a good day she would regularly break down and cry multiple times. It was frightening, my mother was supposed to be someone to look up to. My mother knew something needed to be done, but she didn’t have the courage to do it. My father knew absolutely nothing, he neglected the family. He was never home; his time was mostly spent at the bar. I didn’t understand why he didn’t just leave us forever.

The door screeched open and slammed into the wall. The whole house shook. My mother turned away and hid herself behind a wall. I was scared. Heavy footsteps echoed through the empty air. I could sense my mother was terrified. I took a step into the hall, putting myself between my mother and my father. Regret. My father was a large man, unaware of his own strength. I felt paralyzed, my father was hung-over, he was unbalanced and clearly unpredictable.

“Nadia, get the hell out of my way,” he shouted, his voice was deep and slurred.

He pushed me into the wall; a picture frame fell to the floor and shattered. Already, I could feel bruises forming on my body. My father didn’t even look back at what he had done. Tears began to rush down my face as he turned the corner where my mother was. I heard my mother shouting at him, it was no use, he didn’t listen. I sat curled up, the tears wouldn’t stop. I heard my father hitting my mother. It was a painful sound, I covered my ears but it still pierced through me. I hated my father.

My father came every so often when he ran out of money. He would come, beat my mother, and take all of our money. We were left with nothing.

After my father left I stood up and cautiously went to help my mother. It took me a while to get up; the thought of my abusive father running through my brain had caused me to shut down. The only motion was the depressing flow of tears. Finally, I regained my balance and slowly walked towards the kitchen. I turned the corner into the kitchen. I looked down at the floor where my mother was. She had bruises on her arms and face, and her lip was bleeding. How could he do this? I thought nervously. I lifted my mother into a chair. She was shaking uncontrollably. I wiped the blood from her face and led her to her room. I brought her to the bed where I laid her down. She hadn’t stopped shaking. I wrapped a blanket around her and turned out the lights. I was worried.

I left the room crying, I couldn’t stand to see my mother like this. I was scared. I had vague memories from when I was a child. My mother was happy once. It wasn’t easy to believe, but I knew she was.

Tommy was standing in the hall. He surprised me. I had forgotten he was in the house. He stood expressionless. At first glance he looked like he didn’t know what had happened, but I could see in his eyes that he understood.

The kitchen timer rang out, breaking the cold silence. Dinner was ready. Tommy sat at the table; his facial expression had not changed all day. Mother had shut down, she wouldn’t respond to anything. She didn’t join us for dinner.

Tommy served himself a steaming heap of potato casserole. Potato skins… I thought to myself. Tommy was sensitive to certain things, potato skins being one of them. Throughout the day, he would build up anger and emotion, later, something would push him over the edge and he would explode. Tonight it was the potato skins.

The table flipped upside down, the casserole was in the air, the dish shattered on the floor, and the casserole spread across the room. Tommy was screaming, he was uncontrollable. He was only eight years old, but he was powerful. I backed myself against the wall and watched as the room was turned into chaos. He reminded me of our father.

I sat down in the corner I had occupied and began to sob. I couldn’t take it. Mother had shut herself out again. I was alone. Stuck on an island, with a shark circling the island destroying everything it sees.

Tommy stopped his rage after a while, he crashed. He was lying in a heap on the floor. I left him there. I was terrified of him. I went to my room and locked my door behind me.


Five days had passed and my mother was still shut out from the world. I was worried she would never return. It was hard, day after day, fits of rage from my brother. The house was in ruin, I couldn’t believe he could still find things to break.

Tommy hadn’t hurt me yet, he had hurt our mother many times. She was scared of him. He tried to hurt our father, but he knocked him unconscious. I was the only hope for him. I had to do something.

His fits would take me by surprise. The days were fine, he minded his own business. His second personality showed at night. After dinner he would erupt. I was exhausted and there was nothing I could do. Every night I would do the same thing. I curled up against the wall and watched the event unfold in front of me.

I needed courage. I needed to help him.

A china plate flew past me and shattered against the kitchen wall. Tommy knocked chairs out of the way as he rushed towards me. His eyes were burning with anger. He had me cornered. He’s going to hurt me. I was breaking down. I couldn’t suffer the same fate as my mother.

Courage. I thought to myself.

“Stop.” I shouted. It wasn’t enough, he kept coming towards me. Tears were pouring down my face, I was terrified. “Damn it, Tommy. Stop!”

He paused, shocked. No one had ever confronted him before, his rage ended abruptly. I could stop him. I was amazed, but still I wondered if I could help him.

I spent all night cleaning. Besides the holes and cracks that littered the walls, and the minimal décor, the house looked decent. Morning came and Tommy entered the kitchen. He looked surprised. Emotion. I thought I was off to a good start. I served his breakfast, he was not angry. I couldn’t believe it. Was I actually helping?

Afternoon was quiet. I looked around the house. I went to Tommy’s room, he was staring out his window, expressionless. I stood in the doorway. He didn’t notice me.

“Tommy,” I said. My voice was calm and sweet.

He turned around, he wasn’t startled. His expression was different. It was an innocent, curious face.

“Come with me, I have something to show you.” I held out my hand. Surprisingly he took it.

We made our way downstairs, I led him outside. The air was warm, the breeze was calm. We walked across the grass towards the fence.

The fence had been mine forever. It was my secret. I had never thought of sharing it with anybody.

I sat down. Tommy followed. I could tell he was confused.

The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the summer day was almost perfect. I turned to look at Tommy. A smile was stretched across his face. We both were the happiest we had been in a long time.

We sat against the fence that enclosed our yard. The fence was old, the paint was peeling and the wood was rotten. We had escaped life. The perfection of nature surrounded us, we were free.

The fence was more than an enclosure. It was the complete opposite. To anyone else it would seem ordinary. To me it was a flight. A flight away from this world. We sat for hours, until dusk.

We sat against the fence, the paint peeled off and stuck to our backs. The wood felt unstable. It was the best moment of my life.



© 2013 Bryan

Author's Note

Just give me general feed back. What I did well, and what I could improve on. Also, the black dotted line is there because I could not get rid of it, please ignore it!

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register


Kind of nice. A little too simple. The brother folded too fast.

I wish I knew how to get rid of that black line of dots. I dont' know how and it drives me crazy.

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


8 Years Ago

Thanks for the feedback, I am starting to work on a better version, this is still a rough draft of s.. read more
I liked it!

Posted 8 Years Ago


8 Years Ago

What did you like about it? Anything I could have done better?

Posted 8 Years Ago

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


3 Reviews
Added on January 14, 2013
Last Updated on January 14, 2013



I am 15, I love to write. Not much happens in my life... yet somehow I find something to write about. I have very little experience, and I don't have as much time as I would like! But i try to writ.. more..

Within Within

A Poem by Bryan

Myself Myself

A Poem by Bryan

Still Still

A Poem by Bryan