Growing up, I looked up to my brother; he was someone to be admired. A true leader, one of the best, a A plus student his entire life. I did my best to follow his example, but sometimes I just couldn’t match him. As the years went by, I grew tired of him overshadowing me. A true jealousy brewed within me, and I sought to release it. Gradually, his grades started to fall, and mine along with it. A couple times he would sneak off in the night, and not come back until morning. I was ashamed that I did not see his declining state of mind earlier. But he was still popular, just with a different crowd, and I sought their approval too.
One night he came home and I caught him, literally red-handed, blood soiling his skin. Before I asked for an explanation he said, “Chico, do not tell anyone of this, do you understand?” Of course I answered with a yes, too afraid and interested to say different. A couple more months passed, with a couple more run-ins like the first one. This time, instead of interrogating him, I would give him a simple nod and head to bed.
“Chico!” I jumped straight out of my sleep to see my brother looking down at me. It was only 7:10 pm, about six hours until he usually returned. A couple rough shakes was what it took to bring me out of the haze. He stared at me furiously. “If you want to be a one of us… then get out of bed!” That was all it took. I hopped out of bed and slipped on my clothes. My brother nodded his approval, and then motioned to the door.
It took a solid half an hour to sneak out of the house, but we managed it and walked across the driveway to an old truck. My brother hopped in the front seat and I took the passenger. He tossed me a ski mask while putting his on. “It’s pretty cold out, you’re gonna need some layers.” I didn’t realize he had us put them on for a different reason, and shoved mine on with excitement. The ride was long and cold, because the truck’s heater had long broke, and the music that played on its three stations sounded better off than on. We ended up arriving at our destination, an older but large house with elegant features around it.
“Alright, once we are inside this house, there will be absolutely no sound whatsoever, got it?” I nodded. Getting in was easy, somehow we knew the back door was going to be unlocked. We silently stepped in. The interior of the home was nice too, although it looked smaller inside than it did on the outside. A silent creep later and we were at the wooden stairs leading up to the second floor. Some kind of movie was playing up on the second floor, and I could hear kids laughing. A big, booming laugh which must have been their father joined the clamor. Making it to the second floor may have been the hardest task of my life. The floor threatened to creak in several places, and since we were crawling on all fours, it made it doubly difficult. But suddenly my foot slipped on one of the pieces of wood, and my knee slammed into the side of the wall. My brother gave me a pure hatred look as the movie sounds cut off.
The father shouted out a name who must have been his wife, because all the children started getting riled up. I watched out of my peripheral vision as my brother pulled a firearm out of his jacket and aimed it straight at where they would turn the corner. “What are you doing?” I whispered. He gave me a look of non-questioning and I caught the idea. Listening carefully, I picked up the sounds of the father’s feet, bigger, heavier steps. Then though, I also heard the softer steps of the children, and they were slightly ahead of their father.
“No!” I shouted. But it was too late, the youngest girl had turned the corner first, and my brother had fired straight into her chest. I stared, shocked, as the girl fell backward and hit the ground. A couple screams emitted from the girls still in the hallway. The father ran up to her broken daughter, unbelieving. I had no time to react to the fist connecting with my face. I fell down the stairs, and saw just enough to know that he had attacked my brother too. I rushed up to intercept the man when he wrenched the gun out of my brother’s hands and it fell down to ground floor. Both of them started running for the gun, but I continued upstairs to look for another bludgeon It was then that I saw the two girls that would cause so much trouble for me in the future. One was holding the other, and they both were bursting with tears. Lockets around their necks caught my eye, “Martha” and “Delilah”, Martha being the braver one, and Delilah taking shelter in her sister’s arms.
