Short Stories

what my vivid imagination came up with

TW : Lots of blood

Hiya loves.. I made this one from my imagination but please be mindful, this made me shake and cry uncontrollably so the spelling mistakes are supposed to be there because i had to write it right after i cried for a good while.. 

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My eyes watered and tears flew down my face faster than i could handle, my hands shaking as i desperately held his limp body against me, the blood from his face staining my uniform. I couldn't see, the tears tunneling my vision as I held him so close to me.

The cars had come to a stop, many people getting out of their cars and gaping down at the bloody sight on the crossing road, bodies towering over us as I cried and yelled out from the pain that grew inside.

My second brother was stood next to me, yelling and shouting as he shook his brother in my arms, trying to wake him up but it was no use. although he didn't know it, i did. he was gone.

the mere thought of it made me cry harder, cradling him against me. my head hurt so much from crying so hard and i, for the first time in my life, couldnt care less about what the people around me said about what was going on. many of my class mates saw me in this state, yelling, screaming, begging him to wake up, to not die and all they did was stare. i always knew they were selfish and rude.

somewhere through all the commotion, a hand grasped onto my shoulder, my friend crouching down beside me and holding me as i shook uncontrollably. teachers surrounded me and my two brothers, a teacher asking us who we could call to take us to the hospital. my friend was pushed away from us onto the pavement, safe from the blood and the body that laid in my arms. all i could do was shake my head, knowing it was already too late to do anything.

I held his deformed face in my hands, not caring for the warm blood soaking and staining my clothes and hands, drenching my beige shirt and navy skirt. his uniform was already filthy, the outline of black wheels imprinted onto the side of his face and shirt covered with his blood. my younger brother ran to my father as he ran up the road, pausing as he saw me - a bloody mess - then my youngest brother's twin in my arms, limp and unmoving, face bloodied and legs twisted in the wrong direction.

It took him a moment to realise what was going on before he sunk to his knees in the middle of the interjunction, blocking all cars of moving but no-one wanted to move anyway, instead eyes fixated on me holding my first brother. the warm blood turned cold and sticky yet i remained there, holding his pale body in my hands, crying so much i thought my head would explode. my eyes stung but i couldnt do anything but cry.

cry. cry. cry. my father came up beside me and picked up my brother from my arms, as to let the traffic subside. i didnt care about the traffic. i sat there in the middle of the crossing, my now only brother staying by the other's side as my dad helped me stand and make it to the other side. yet still, no-one moved. my hands shook, my legs shook, my body was fragile and i would collapse. we all knew it was too late as my father called the ambulance, staring down at me and the body limp in my arms. it was of no use. nothing could bring him back.

I couldnt describe how his beautiful face was ruined, left a bloody mess and how his flesh was ripped out from his face but the other half of his face reamined intact and soft, untouched. i couldnt dare reach out to him anymore, scared that id ruin his face even more than the car that ran over him had. people were selfish and mean. so so mean and mean and rude and i wanted to scream. so i did. i couldn't believe how horrible people were. they all just stood and stared.

i didnt like them. i didnt want to be near them. my mum didnt answer her phone since she was at work. i could hear the panic in my dads voice as he stared at me and my only brother.

only brother. only brother... i stared down at my hands, at my clothes, at my body covered in blood. so much blood. too much blood.

no, my head pounded, no. my only brother hugged me tight but now i sat there, body numb and no clear emotion on my face. i couldn't bare to touch him with the blood. he was pure but the blood stained him too.

but even as the days and years went by, i still had the blood on my hands whenever i looked down at them. they were tattooed with my first-brothers blood. i never forgot what i saw that day and i never will. the blood stained me and it will never wash off.

how could humanity be so cruel?