Envoy of death

I

Rain drops on my head as the white moon shimmers through the crowns of the big trees. It is the beginning of the autumn, a wild but colorful time in the year. The golden leaves on the trees are singing as a light breeze touches them. They've always sung for me, but I could never understand what they were singing.
Earlier I would have laid on the soft ground and look up to the bright colors of the leaves. The nature is a picture of its own. As a kid I was here every day, climbing up trees, relaxing on the soft ground or playing with my big brother...
Until that day he passed away. Everything changed that day. Even the bright colors couldn't cheer me up. I don't like it, being reminded at the horrible accident that occurred to my brother. I don't know what happened but it still hurts thinking of him. The moss on my bare feet is soft as a pillow.
My feet are wound from the pointy stones I walked on before. The moss feels like heaven  under my hurt feet.
I wouldn't learn from my mistakes, that's what my brother would have said.
He was right, he was always right. But I couldn't ever believe him. I never listened to his commands. That pissed him of, I knew that.
Still, as I walked over the soft ground I could hear his voice in my head telling me to wear shoes outside.
He is always there, every minute every hour, every day. I can feel his presence everywhere but still, he isn't there.
He's dead.
No he can't be
I know that he's alive. Something deep inside tells me that he isn't dead.
But he can't be alive, he would have came back to me.
I look up in the sky seeing the white stars shining above.
I sit down leaning on the big oak as I take out a piece of paper. It is hidden beneath the moos I ripped out yesterday. The paper feels rough in my hands and I start writing with the big white feather I got for my 17th birthday. It was locked with a tiny jar of ink in a chest which I hide in the trees. I write letters everyday. It helps me forget about the bad things that happened in my life, even though I know they won't ever get to their destination.
I've always had bad luck in my life. It even gets to the point were I'm asking myself how I could still maintain a pure heart.
I dip the feather into the ink. It dripps as I move it to the paper. It falls into my new dress my mother bought me. She wanted me to smile again, but I couldn't. I can't just forget about my brother. I loved him more than I can tell. I was thankful for the gift but it didn't made me smile.
I write the first letters on the white piece of paper. I learned how to write from an old friend of mine. He is one of the wealthiest living in this small town. I write down my thoughts on the thin paper.

Im sorry
I couldn't help it but run
I should have stayed with you
I shouldn't have run away
But I couldn't stay.
I couldn't help it but run
I came back, you know
I've tried to
But something kept me back
I should have fought it
But I didn't
I wasn't strong enough
But I should have been with you
I'm sorry

I fold the paper in half and lay it under the moss. It is hidden, so nobody can see it.  A letter to my dead brother. Some people would say that I'm dumb for thinking he will read it, but I never really thought he would. It just helped me cue. I write them for my brother. He will never be with me again, because he is dead, I keep reminding myself that.
I start staring at the stars. They are shining bright today, because it is fullmoon. He is somewhere up there. He is watching me from the sky  protecting me from any bad that could happen to me.
He is the one that keeps my sole pure.
I'm sure he does, because since the accident happened nothing ever happened to me. Isn't that unusual?
Especially the church says that he is watching over me, protecting me. But they are just there to get the money, my money. That's how they do it. I place the ink jar and the feather back into the wooden box and hide it behind the big old oak.
It has two names carved in:
Henry and Alice
It was my name and and my brother's. We carved it a day before he left. It stayed there a long time without vanishing and when it started to grow out I carved it again, wanting to keep the memory. The memory of my loved brother.
I make my way through the dark forest. Its getting darker outside as it is late at night. I walk through the deep forest. A small crack is creeping me out as I fight me through the thicket. I look around nervously. As the same sound repeats itself. I shiver and fasten my walk.
I need to get out of here, fast
The forest is safe until it gets dark, they say.
I never believed it but after going into the Forrest in the darkness I realized  that they were right. There is always that certain feeling of being watched.
I never felt that way with my brother. I always felt safe. But without him it is scary. Although nothing ever happened to me in here, I stopped trusting it. I never told him how much he meant to me.
I should have.
But I haven't.
I thought that it was weak.
But it is not weak to tell somebody that you love him.
But I haven't told him.
So I'm weak

Life is a wheel of fortune and it's my turn to spin it." – Tupac