Words Unspoken

Such Horrible Things

I was ten years old when it happened. When my world turned upside down. We were getting ready to celebrate my baby brother's birthday, which was the day before, at Chuck E. Cheese's. He had turned two years old. My parents decided to have another baby when I was 7 because they knew I would be able to help take care of him like I helped everyone else. Mom had put him in his car seat before getting in the car. I sat next to him, and once Dad got in he put the key in the ignition and we drove off. Dad was in the military, but he never was on the front lines. Dad never liked to kill because it was against God's commands. He believed the only right time to kill anyone was if someone was threatening to end your life. We stopped at the red light, the right tail light was blinking. Dad noticed black cars starting to appear. They didn't do anything, they just drove around. Once the light turned green and Dad started to turn the car one of black cars slammed into side of the car like a rhino trying to attack another. The car rammed against the car with such force that it knocked the car over. Then another came, slamming into the hood of the car and in the process killing my parents. I heard the cars skid away as I tried to see if anyone was alive.

"Mom?....Dad?" I said.

No response. I looked towards the left and used whatever power I had to open the door. Then I looked to my brother and felt my face turn red as I saw his body still attached to the car seat. I reached over and got him out. Once I had him in my arms I climbed out from the side of the car. Cars and their owners stood in place, I heard one lady calling the police. I jumped down with my brother still in my arms. "Help! Please help! My baby brother, he's dying!" I yelled as the blood streamed down his head and onto my arms. A young couple, newly weds it seemed like to me, were kind enough to drive us to the hospital. On our way there I had passed out.

I woke up on a hospital bed. The Doctor had told me I passed out because of a head injury I had gotten and I was hyperventilating so much my brain couldn't handle it. Once they said it was fine for me to get up  the doctor brought me to where my baby brother laid. He was clean, the blood was wiped off and his scar was stitched, but his body was lifeless. I held onto the railing and felt warm tears roll down my cheeks.

"He was alive when he was brought in. We did whatever we could to help him live longer, but his head injury and his blood loss was so major he died." He said. He told me I could hold him if I wanted, so I grabbed his body carefully, found a bench to sit on held him in my arms. I cradled him in my arms as Mom would and I sat there and looked down at him until they had said it was time to go.

Days later my Dad's military friends had held their funerals for the three of them. They tried getting me to speak, but I didn't say a word. All three buried side by side. Realizing I had nowhere to go, and no one would take me in I was sent to an orphanage where I stayed for six years. No one wanted a kid who never spoke. I had gotten into a fight with one of the other teenagers. He kept, pushing me and shoving me, calling me a freak for not speaking. It was gruesome, well that's what they said. Yes, I may have broken his arm in a way that would take a very long time for recovery, but that's when I was sent to Summerview Prep. According to others that's where kids that are uncontrollable are sent.