I smell the metallic scent of blood. I look over at the body. The body that used to be my brother, I remember his calm air, how he could bring peace just by walking in a room. I look over at the smaller body, with great caution, I walk over to the body, and look at the hair streaked with blood. The golden hair of my sister,or my former sister, rather. I remember how she couldn't sleep without my older brother. Those two were inseparable, apparently not even death could separate them, for they died in each other's embrace, around the same time too. My journey's not over yet. Over there, in the master bedroom down the hall, are my mother and father. Both took two bullets one to the chest, and one to the head. While the kids all died by knife wounds. I remember how they finished each other's sentences, I used to find it annoying but over the years I learned how to deal. I move over to the final room, at the end of the hall, open the door and look down. What I see is the most horrific thing ever: the final body, with the knife protruding from its breast, and what seemed liked thousands of other still bleeding scars. It's cold dead eyes staring at me with the death stare. And I remember when I was alive...
