It Wasnt My Fault (DNF)

Part 1: Prologue #3

I was back from my second ever day of high school, stepping into my brother's and my apartment.

I was happy.

I had a friend.

I couldnt wait to tell my brother, but he wouldn't be back for a good hour or so.

I grabbed a bowl of cereal from the cupboard, the bowls and cups being kept low enough for my short-ass to reach.

I was eating my snack and watching cartoons.

It was getting later and I was growing worried and steadily indescidive as the need to search for my brother became more necessary.

As I decided to go looking for Ken, my show was interrupted by an announcement on the news.

"It was two hours ago that the near pharmacy was attacked by the Viper Gang. This is the second attack this year. No one was spared."

My breath caught in my throat as I fell to my knees, crawling over to the television, turning the volume up while I tried to catch my speeding breaths.

"The five deaths include the following:

"Liam Justin Couth." That was one.

"Riley Jessica Mild" The possibilities that they'd attacked my brother's pharmacy was growing slimmer.

"James William Marriot" That was a friend of Ken's. It couldnt be, right?

"Henry Isaac Cobble." That was his boss. Please no...

"Ken Daniel Davidson"

I passed out.

I woke up crying.

Sobs had immediately taken over my body, drowning out the SpongeBob theme song that I could barely hear.

Every noise sounded too loud.

I covered my ears, the way Ken had showed me all those years ago.

It was magic, right?

Magic, that's what he told me.

It just muffled all the noises as they continued to seep into my brain, making everything seem foggier than they really were as I struggled to see through my tears.

I feel a warm feeling on my shoulder.

I take my hands off of my ears and open my eyes that I had no memory of closing.

Behind me, standing there in a dim golden light was the ghost of my brother.

I knew that dead people could choose one person to stay with in the afterlife, but I never imagined he'd chose me.

But there he stood, warmth radiating off of his faded body, smiling warmly at me like he always did.

I begin crying at the sight of him, feeling his arms envelop me.

Why did he die?

He died because he was out working his ass off for me.

To keep me safe.

It was always me.

He would have been alone, living with his friends, safe at home if he hadnt had a brother.

A brother he had to take so many beatings for in his life.

A brother he had to endure the insanity of hearing your mother scream for.

A brother he had to work for when his friends slowly deserted him at only 16, when he needed them most.

A brother he'd spent money on so that we could have a safe haven in the house we were confined to.

A brother he'd gone to hell for.

God, how I hoped it was heaven, but only ghosts of souls sent to hell were warm.

He deserved to go to heaven.

"George," his voice was distant, ringing in my ears.

"It wasn't your fault."

I cry harder, not believing him.

"I'm here for you. I'm still here to protect you." he says, his hand falling onto my hair, giving the illusion that he was there, but I knew I could fall through his embrace if I leaned into it.

I couldnt lose this, his embrace.

If anything, I couldnt lose this.

The thing that kept me alive.

I needed my brother.

I needed him and I didnt know how to get along without him.

"Come sit on the couch, George." I got up, sniffling, unsteady on my feet as I plopped onto the couch beside a large window, leaning my head onto the cold glass.

My brother's ghost sat in front of me, his hand on my hair as he leaned forward, talking to me soothingly, singing to me in the smooth voice I'd always loved.

I was crying, but with my brother's help, i fell into an easy sleep like he'd helped me to do my whole life.

Now, because of that, his was over.

"It wasn't your fault, George." His whispers follow me into sleep, attempting to comfort me through the nightmares I wouldn't be able to escape.

Im sorry...

Yeah, the real book starts next chapter.

I really like this one. I'm able to get out all my feelings with this one.

That's why i like writing, it's a better outlet than my previous... ahem... methods.

High School Me described my feelings and experiences to an extent, but I slowly stopped feeling that way, and the book ended without much emotion.

This book expresses more of how I feel right now.

"Looking, Searching, Losing Hope" is meant to be a mostly happy book, and I just didnt feel it. As much as I wish happiness followed the dumps I'd found myself in immediately, it doesn't for me, and I still have a lot of things to get out.

This book is my feelings.

The longing, the sadness, the blame.

All me.

And I hope you enjoy it as it expands and helps me reach better times, like my previous one did, even if it didnt leave me in exactly the place i wanted to be in.

I love you all.

Anyone here is the best.

Comment. I honestly couldnt care less about votes tbh. I just want ppl to talk to.

Also, that song literally makes me cry with how much i needed to hear the lyrics. Listen to it with the chapter. It'll kinda explain where I'm headed with this story and this book was literally inspired by it.

Just like High School Me was originally inspired by Sasha Sloan's High School Me song. Forgot to give credits, but there it is.

Anyway, I'll write more later. I've cried enough/j

1005 words