The DEATH Brother

“Jess, do you really think we should consider getting a nanny?” my father asks.

My mother gazes at me with a coddling expression as I peek through the crack of my bedroom doorway.

“No, I think we can handle it. I don’t want a stranger in our house with our boy that long anyways.” She kisses dad on the forehead, and walks into the kitchen.

My dad notices me snooping in their conversation as well; I step away from the door and jump onto my bed pretending that I was watching cartoons the entire time.

He opens my door and smiles as I snuggle within the bed covers. “You know, if you’re going to spy on your mother and I, at least don’t get caught.”

A smirk rises upon my face. “Daddy, why do we need a nanny? Am I bad?”

He ruffles his fingers through my hair. “No. It’s just that I and mommy are so busy now. We need extra help since we work so many hours at our jobs.”

I retorted, “I’m old enough to stay home by myself.”

Dad sighs and smiles at my self-assured face, “You’re only seven years old Justin. We can’t leave you home by yourself for multiple hours.”

I frown at him, and don’t argue. One day I’ll be old enough to take care of myself. I’m not a baby, I don’t need to be watched after.

“Anyways, it’s time to go to bed buddy.” He grabs the TV remote and presses off; Scooby Doo vanishes from the screen.

He tucks me in further within the blanket and kisses my head. “Goodnight.”

I grin and turn towards him. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”



* * * * * * * * * * * * * *



“Pancakes, pancakes!” I shriek, pounding my fork against the table.

My mother rushes over, sliding a couple of pancakes onto my plate, straight from the pan.

She kisses my face. “Hurry up sweetie. We have a busy day today.”

I search her face inquiringly but I don’t have a clue of what she is referring to. It is Saturday morning, and we usually don’t do anything busy on that day.

After she washes dishes, she takes me with her in the car. I am stumped as to where we are going, but she soon stops in front of grocery store.

“Are you coming in?” she asks me.

I shake my head sideways.

“Okay, I’m locking the doors then.”

She leaves me in the car and enters the store. At first I’m bored, but a mysterious looking boy seizes my attention. He leans, shadowed by his rain coat against the side wall of the store, eyes secured upon me.

A feeling of familiarity surges through me, but I can’t place it in existence. His aqua blue eyes are disturbing to me, like seeing your great grandfather in an illusion of a dream.

My eyes dart back to the front of the store, as my mother exits, overshadowed by bags of groceries.

As she comes closer, I focus back to side wall of the store. He is gone. As if he was never there. Goosebumps prickle down my spine. Who was he?

Days rush by, and the boy gradually sneaks in, like a snake upon its prey. Closer into view. Only existing in the absence of my parents.

It’s now a month later, and the boy is within my arm reach, only thing blocking us is the window shield. Both his hands are upon the window, blue eyes locked on mine.

An alarming sense of security overwhelms me. Why do I trust this boy? How have I not told my parents about him this entire time? What is wrong with me?

One of his hands leaves the window; a lollipop raises back up gripped within his hand.

For a moment I consider ignoring him, but temptations urge me to roll down the window.

My fingers rest upon the window button, and the window rolls down slowly. The boy doesn’t move, his eyes never leaving me.

A feeling of deception worms through me. I snatch the lollipop from his hand and try to jerk it back immediately, but he was ready for me. He has a firm grip on my arm and places a needle in my arm.

“What are you doing?” I yell; thrashing my arm helplessly as black liquid leaves the shot glass.

“You’re my brother,” he says coldly, just above a whisper. “Your parents abandoned me, they must suffer the consequences.”

Something intoxicating soars through my veins. Something hard to explain, it changes my state of mind, and my thoughts converts into obscurity.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“What do you want for dinner sweetie?” my mother asks.

It’s painful to look at her, evil thoughts continue to pester my mind every chance it gets.

“Um…mommy, can we have garlic bread and spaghetti?” I avoid her gaze, looking at the floor.

“Are you okay Justin, do you have a cold?” she asks.

She attempts to walk over but I retort, “I’m fine mom, just sleepy.”

I lift myself out the chair to go inside the bathroom, closing the door. Looking in the mirror, I splash water in my face, hoping for some sign of a transparent mind, but it only becomes vaguer.

The mysterious boy looms, materializing behind me. “Kill them Justin, they deserve to die for leaving their infant on a doorstep. Look at what they’ve done to your big brother. Kill them.”

“Leave me alone!” I scream.

Evil laughter echoes throughout my eardrums, and I place my hands over my ears hoping for it to stop, but it doesn’t.

Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them.

I let my hands fall to my side. My fingers slide over the shaving knife as I grasp it tighter than I can imagine.

“Justin, are you okay?” It’s my father’s voice.

I open the door furiously, slicing his throat. He gasps for air, astounded from the impact. He dives to the ground, gushes of blood staining the carpet.

My mother is in the kitchen, I can hear her humming softly to the tune of the radio.

I move slowly, creaking on the floorboards. She doesn’t turn, only to my heavy breathing does she whirl around.

A petrified scream drowns out the radio tune. My mother gapes me up and down; blood drenching my hands and clothes.

“My brother seeks revenge,” I say, smirking darkly.

She shakes her head hysterically. “You can’t possibly mean…it was an accident. I was sixteen. I couldn’t take care of him. I had no choice.”

“He. Doesn’t. Care.”

I grasp the butcher knife from the counter. My mother tries to cut around me, but my foot trips her, sending her to the floor.

A whimpered cry seizes my earshot. “Oh, shut up mommy.” I plunge the knife into her back repeatedly, blood spraying onto my face and hands. “You are a bad mommy, burn in hell!!”