Kings Of The Demon World -Joshler

The burning house

[IMPORTANT...KINDA]
Hellø yes this is my first fanfiction. This will only be in Joshes point of view (probably but there could be a secret P.O.V.), also this is going to be a VERY long story.
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Chapter One:

Bombs where dropping from the sky again, making extremely load bangs and explosions. My older brother screamed at me, I couldn't hear him from the noise but I only just made out what he was saying. He was saying something on the lines of 'hurry up!' and 'we have to move!'.

You're probably wondering why bombs where being thrown from the sky. Well it's because it's World War II. Our parents had told us about the First World War and how another would be starting soon. A lot of people didn't believe them saying that it would never happen again, but guess who's taking now. When the news came saying it would happen our country had started preparing for it, only to later find out that our parents where requited into the army to fight.

My brother and I ran out the door, but I stopped halfway when I remembered I had forgotten something very important. I run back up the stairs, my brother must have noticed me because he ran after me. I slammed open the door and ran to the bookshelf. I picked up the photo of our parents and stared at it wondering how they are doing and if they are ok.

As I stared at the photo I heard a faint scream over the sounds from outside, I looked up to see my brother with a scared expression on his face. I was confused but he was soon running at me, he pushed me forward and out the door. I turned around quickly after he let got of me but when I turned around a bright light with a red color erupted from the room.

I was suddenly thrown back into the hall way. I immediately sat up, realizing what just happened. Someone dropped a bomb in our house, and my brother just sacrificed himself for me. And now he's dead. I screamed as flames engulfed the room, I had to get out I thought to myself. I quickly got up I was in pain and had cuts running down my arms and legs but I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could and out the door. I watched as the fire and black smoke spread around the house.

"Why did you do it!" I tried to scream but my throat was dry.

I collapsed on the rough dirt and cried my eyes out. I couldn't move, but it wasn't like I was going to move anyway. The smell of smoke and the sounds of bombs filled the air. In the distance I could hear I siren from a car, probably a police car to see if anyone was hurt.

My vision was starting to become blurry, and my hearing was fading. I was soon being picked up by someone and carried into something. Then everything went black.

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I was slowly starting to wake up, bright lights blinded me and voices that where yelling surrounded me.

My eyes started to focus and I quickly recognized where I was. I tried to sit up but was immediately being pushed down by someone's hands, I looked up to see a woman with brown hair tied up in a neat bun and a white coat on was stitching up my leg.

"What's happening" I asked her

"Your house was hit and you where cut and bused up badly" she replied

As she said that the memories all came back to me. My brother had died. And it was my fault because I wanted a stupid picture. I started sobbing again, I went to wipe the tears away when I saw my arm. Bruises and cuts with stitching in them covered it, same with my other arm and legs. I winced in pain as the nurse pricked the needle with thread into my leg.

"I'm almost done honey" she said in a calming voice. Except it didn't calm me down one little bit, it just made me feel worse because the way she spoke reminded me of my mom.