• I ran into the forest. Miles behind me was my home, the one place I belonged, and now I was running from it. I could remember everything as if it was just seconds ago, the blood dripped fresh all over the kitchen tiles and a sour smell filled the air. I thought of him dead body, lying there, lifeless.
    My brother, I thought and a tear ran down my cheek. The wind whipped at my face and I couldn’t breathe, I just continued to run. Seconds later the forest cleared and I was running on a cliff.

    We sat at the table, finger-painting. I watched him, smiling. Ever since my mom died I’d taken an oath to protect my little brother, Gabriel, from all the harm out there, including me.
    “Wook! Wook! Wook! Cwissy, yow not wooking!” he slurred. I turned to him and watched as he painted millions of scribbles over the white paper.
    “Looks good, Gabriel, we just might have an artist in the family,” I said and got up from the table.
    “Wew you going, Cwissy?”
    “I’ll be right back; I need to feed the horses.” I took one more look at the little boy with the tucked in shirt, thick, black glasses, and neat hair cut, then left.

    And when I came back He was dead, I told myself.

    And jumped.