~The journey must begin.. ~ An OC story

--Chapter one--

I'm so sorry! I forgot to add trigger warnings:( from now on I'll add trigger warnings at the beginning of the chapter!:)

TW/CW: Murder, torture, Death, crying, memory issues, mentions of traumatic event

A light brown-haired boy sat still as he listened to the cries of his very own brother. He was hidden in his closet, which he barely fit in as he was almost 6'7, trying to block out the noise. He could hear screams coming from the room next to him, as his 14-year-old brother got tortured. 14 years! Who would do something this cruel to a 14-year-old child? He heard a yell that for sure wasn't his brother, so it must be the murderer, right? The scream sounded gruff, and it seemed like the killer was a man not to old. Around his twenties? The tall boy flinched when he heard a particular loud gun shot, met with silence.

Was this it? Was Leo, his brother, dead? Loud footsteps were heard throughout the house, and the traumatized child curled up to himself as much as a 6'6 male could. After what felt like hours all noises left the house, which allowed the boy to let his cries out.

All this time, all these torturing hours, he felt numb. But now that the mysterious killer had left his presence, all the pain came flooding out. After having to hide for so long, the young man was almost scared to open his closet. What if the murderer didn't leave? What if he was still in his house? The lanky boy pushed those thoughts aside with a shake of his head. Not now, he told himself. He pushed open the closet door and crawled out. His limbs were hurting like hell at this point. But the short haired boy looked around his room, searching for two items. After a quick look to his right, he saw the desired items. His leather notebook and blue ballpoint. He quickly snatched them from his nightstand and sat down on the floor.

He has had the book since he started high school and wrote every important thing in it. After a traumatizing event, he had memory issues. They were so bad that he couldn't even remember what had happened! The only thing he still remembered were the screams of this man. Who the man was? He couldn't tell. Was it his father? Another family member? Or just a stranger? No matter who it was, the thoughts of the loud yells still sent him shivers down his spine.

The young adult opened his small book and started writing:

10/06/22

Today was horror. My brother got killed. I don't know who did it. Leo screamed. Then a gunshot came. Leo was dead. I don't know if his body is still there. I hope it is. I want to say goodbye one last time. I am going to miss him.

Saltwater drops fell down on the page, smudging some letters. That would be a problem later, but honestly? He could not care less. He closed the so-called memory book, not knowing what more to write. Normally he would write pages per day, but now he couldn't even seem to write a single paragraph. He climbed up his bed and as soon as his head hit the fluffy pillow the boy drifted to sleep, not knowing what terror he would meet that night.