The Ugly Truth

Chapter 1 - He Started It

My name is Ana Jones, I'm seventeen years old and my brother is dead.

He died less than a year ago at the young age of fifteen and I never stopped thinking about that day.

Some people say it was an accident , others say it was an act of suicide but I know what it was.

My brother would never be so stupid to shoot himself by accident and he was a happy guy.

He had good friends, futur plans and we are a good family.

Well we were a good one.

Now my father has left my mother and me for an other woman.

My mom was so crushed by my father's betrayal and my brother's death that she sunk into depression.

She started drinking and when she doesn't take her medications you seriously do not want to be in the same room with her.

I for instance, am trying to keep my grades as high as possible to graduate high school, get a great job and go as far away from this doomed town.

All in the same year I lost everything.

But worst of all, I am all alone keeping this one big secret.

His death. My little brother's death.

I know what happened. It was murder.

Someone had cruelly assassinated my brother, and the more I kept thinking about it the more it all made sense.

I did not want to admit it but the ugly truth was what it was.

I knew who killed him and I could of stopped it from happening.

***

(Flashback)

It was a dark and windy Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday, May 1st to be precise.

I was only sixteen at the time and didn't yet have my driving license so we had to walk. But I didn't mind.

On that cloudy afternoon I was on my way to meet my brother like I did every Tuesday after his piano lesson and bring him to the ice cream shop.

Personnally, I didn't think he needed any lessons, he was like the contemporary mozart.

He started playing at three years old and had won so many contests that I didn't understand why he was so obstinated about taking lessons.

Now that I thought about it, he must of seen it like an escape from our parent's many fights.

So I entered the music shop and went in the back where the lessons were held.

I knocked on the door and looked through the litte window where I observed my brother's gracious hands dancing on the piano.

I gave a quick glance to his handsome teacher who was also my boyfriend and smiled for no reason thinking of how much I loved him.

His name was Ashton Young, he was a senior, and we fell in love the way people in books do, but this story is for an other time.

After realizing that I was akwardly staring I went back to the front of the shop.

I looked at the instruments laying on the shelves and found myself hoping to be able to play with such talent as my little brother.

I gave a quick glance at my watch. 4:30.

The lesson should end anytime now.

As I thought it I heard the door open and saw him leave the room coming towards me.

"Hi", I said kissing Ashton. He was cold and didn't answer to my embrace. "What's going on?"

"Nothing", he answered coldly. He turned around and looked at my brother, "See you next week, Kyle", he told him, leaving.

"Thanks", he told his teacher, taking my hand and pulling me to the door.

"You had a good lesson?", I asked my brother still shoked by Ashton's coldness.

"Ya", he said laughing, "I taught him some things about playing the piano".

I laughed and we left the shop starting the walk home.

I was walking fast because of the cold and I never realized that my brother had stopped walking.

Then, I heard the gunshot. I turned around and saw my little brother's fragile body fall on the ground, a pool of blood all around him.

I looked up and saw a man running past the corner of the street.

It was his teacher, his handsome teacher, my boyfriend Ashton, he was running away from the crime scene.

It was not looking bad for him at all.

I heard someone's foot steps and tried to turn around to face my opponent.

Too late, I felt a cold object on my neck. I froze.

"If you make any movement I shoot", said a man behind me.

"What, what do you want?", I asked holding my breath.

"You will never talk about this to anyone, ever", he made me promise.

Then the pressure on my neck disapeared just like the man. I turned around and saw no sign of him.

I started trembling, so disgusted by these events.

I looked back to my brother's body but found nothing to see but his blood.

I couldn't even say goodbye.

He was dead and stolen from me right behind my back.

How lunatic could I get to miss all the signs and still do nothing to stop it?

At fifteen years old my brother died walking back from his piano lesson, Ashton, my boyfriend abandonned me and I was all alone, knowing the ugly truth.

***

To this day, I am still feeling the hurt of my boyfriend's disapearance.

The police never found him and assumed that he killed my brother and then ran away.

But I know that Ashton wasn't the one holding the gun.

The police man in charge never thought of asking me what I saw that day and obviously never understood what really happenned to my brother, nor to his body.

To this day, nightmares about this man telling me to never talk about it again still haunt my nights.

And I never told the police or anyone-anyone but you-about what really happened that day too scared that he would come back to kill me and finish what nine months ago he started.