The Fall of the Aftons

002: Michael Song

"Khael! Michael! Come on, let's go," Michael's older brother, Aster Joseph Song, called loudly from downstairs. 

"'Let's go,'" Maxwell, Michael's twin brother, mimicked jokingly. Michael laughed when Aster scolded his brother. Maxwell didn't go by his first name very often. He typically went by his middle name, Khael.

Khael quickly grabbed Mike's hand and rushed down the abnormally steep stairs. Michael could barely keep up with his brother. He could feel the three-stone necklace he wore beat against his chest, the one he wore to help Aster keep the identical twins apart. 

"Do you two have a jacket? It's chilly outside today," Aster said once they made it down the stairs and put on their shoes.

Michael sighed, annoyed, and ran upstairs. He grabbed his favorite blue sweatshirt and Khael's green one. Sure, Michael and Khael always wore closely matching clothes, but they rarely wore matching sweatshirts. They just didn't like the thought of matching the whole time. He darted back downstairs, joining his brothers. A few minutes later, he and his brothers were on their way to the store. Sure, he never minded the walk, but sometimes wished his parents were still alive so he and Khael didn't have to go with Aster everywhere. And by everywhere,  I mean everywhere. To work, to the store, to the bank. Anywhere their older brother needed to go, the twins came with him. It didn't matter what time it was or what they were in the middle of.

Michael, Maxwell, and Aster came to a crosswalk. As always, Aster waited for each twin to grab one of his hands before they crossed. Out of habit, as the three of them crossed, Michael looked from side to side. It was a safety habit that his father had instilled in him. Before his father died last year, of course. 

And then he saw it.

A white car, speeding straight towards them in an unpredictable swerve.

Michael pulled on Aster's arm as hard as he could, attempting to drag his brothers forward. But he wasn't strong enough and his older brother just pulled him back to his side. Michael cried aloud, pointing to the car. But his brother didn't seem to hear him, Mike's cry falling into an oblivion of silence. Knowing he was breaking the rule big time, he let go of his big brother's hand and sprinted to the sidewalk. 

"Michael Terrence Song!" Aster shouted, agitation filling his words. "What on earth are you doing? You know much better than that!"

Now that he had both of his brothers' attention, he pointed to the car, which was getting closer and closer by the second. He watched in pure terror as his brothers recognized the danger that they were in and ran to the sidewalk as fast as they could. But they weren't fast enough. When Aster noticed how the car was inches away from him and Khael, he forcefully shoved his little brother forward, bringing him out of the path of the car. 

There was a sickening thud.

Michael screamed, but his scream was cut off by a large gag when he saw his older brother. Aster's back was contorted unnaturally, almost at a ninety-degree angle. He was in a pool of his crimson red blood, the puddle widening more and more by the minute. Broken rib bones protruded through his chest, as well as his right leg. Destroyed by the sight, Michael fell to his knees and heaved for a minute or two.

Michael felt the familiar feel of Khael's hand in his own. He dragged his brother onto his feet, the cold autumn wind blowing on Michael's tear-stained face as his brother dragged Mike away from the grotesque scene. After what felt like an eternity of running blindly, guided by his brother's motions, he and Khael came to a stop. Khael brought him over to a brick wall, sitting Mike down on the chilly cement. He felt as his twin sat down next to him, breathing heavily from all of the running. Khael exhaled a long, shaky, drawn-out breath.

"Mikey?"

Michael looked at his twin, not quite making eye contact. "This is all my fault," he muttered. He looked up at Khael, this time making eye contact. He didn't want to, but he needed his brother to see that something had changed for the worse because of him.

"Let's still go to the store," Khael said, ignoring Michael's self-blaming statement. "Miss Allie knows us pretty well. She'll help us, I'm sure of it." He smiled at Michael, but it was obvious that the optimism was feigned. although it was fake, it helped heal both of their depressive moods after losing their big brother.

Miss Allie was sympathetic, and she let the boys walk around the semi-large store as the last few hours of her shift passed. So, two hours through the three, Michael and Khael were wandering about as Khael tried to get his technically younger brother to open up.

"Mikey, come on. Stop hiding things from me! I'm your identical twin brother! This is just a bunch of poop. It's as Daddy used to tell you. Don't keep your emotions bottled up! You're going to explode eventually, whether you want to or not."

Michael wasn't paying attention to his twin's words. His attention was on the man staring at them. The same man who had been watching them for the past hour and a half. But when Khael waved his hand in front of Michael's face, his concentration was broken. 

"Are you okay?" Khael asked, his expression concerned.

Michael pointed to where the man stood, but when he glanced over, the man was gone. Michael and Khael tilted their head in confusion at the same time, but for different reasons. Michael was wondering where the man went, whereas Khael was just confused. But Michael just shrugged to himself and turned to look for his brother. But he wasn't there. Mike spun in a circle, looking for a trace of where his brother went. He found one: Maxwell's deep blue shoe lying on its side on the floor, just in front of the Breads & Grains aisle. He dashed into the aisle, nearly screaming when he saw his twin nearly unconscious as the man from before draped him over his shoulder, then started to walk away

"Max!" Mike called aloud unintentionally, his voice chock-full of fear.

Khael perked up slightly at the sound of the nickname only Michael was allowed to call him just as the man turned around. The man dropped an f-bomb as he practically threw Khael off of his shoulder and leaned him haphazardly against the metal shelving. The man began to move closer to Michael, a cloth gripped tightly in his hand. Michael screamed at the top of his lungs, unsure of what to do. His scream reverberated against the stone walls of the store, and he screamed for so long that his throat felt as if it was on fire by the time he stopped. He shut up the moment he saw the man darting at him. When the man was in close-enough proximity, Michael punched the man in the leg as hard as he could, trying to deter him.

His punch did absolutely nothing. 

The man grabbed Michael by his thin arm and aggressively threw him against the shelving opposite the one Khael was up against. He heard a crack as a jolt of sharp pain shot up through his leg. So much pain flared inside of his leg that he barely registered himself hitting the cold tile floor. He grasped his leg, sobbing violently, as he watched the man take Khael away from him, never to be seen again.