The October Series

October 1st: Death on the Doorstep

I sat alone in my small house which consisted of nothing but a bed, a lamp, a table, and grey floors and walls. My house was placed at the top of a small hill, far away from the town in which I was raised. The town in which my mother and father died. The town in which my brother ran away. The town in which my sister, who my mother and father left in charge of me, ran off and got married to some rich fellow, leaving me all alone in this miserable little town. I don't like that town. I remember having a younger sibling, but I hardly recall what he looks like. He was an infant when my sister, that arrogant, proud woman, abandoned us. I

was rather young. I didn't have the age or maturity to care for a young child, especially my brother. If there's one thing I recall about him, was that he was a handful. A little rascal, always getting himself into trouble. Always pestering me and the neighborhood kids. Always participating in dangerous, stupid activities, and I managed to live with him for seven years after my sister left. When I was fourteen and working several odd jobs, I forgot what happened, again, I have little memory of my younger brother. I was always working to support him, I never knew what he looked like. He did something terrible, something horrible, and it made the entire town hate us. It made us exiles. People started hating us, it was as if we were no longer part of the town, so I made up

my mind, I sent my brother off to the nearest orphanage, told them he was sick mentally, and dropped him off. I built a cabin made from wood that I obtained from the forest near our town. At this point, I was tired, depressed, and never smiled. Life had turned out to be a giant disappointment, and I no longer felt I belonged in that pathetic little town, so I built my cabin on that hill, and made my life there.
Several years later, I was lying in my bed late at night when all of a sudden, I heard a knock on the door.
A knock? I thought to myself, Well! Who could be knocking on the door at this late hour, and especially me?! It can't be someone from the

town, as far as they know, I disappeared! I'm invisible! Who needs me?
The knock became more and more persistent. I leaped from my bed and peered through the cracks in my wall. There was no one. I opened the door, and there was no one. I was sure someone had knocked on the door. It wasn't just wind. It was a knock, but I ignored it since no one appeared to be there. Probably some silly children were playing a prank on me.
The following night, the same thing happened. Someone knocked on the door. I opened it, and no one was there.
For the following week, this kept happening, a knock on the door, and no one was there.

Finally, I got fed up. I grabbed my gun, kicked the door wide open, and yelled,
"Who's there?! I'm sick and tired of your bloody racket! Who's there?!".
A tall, young man emerged from the shadows, and I was taken aback.
"Why, hello", he said in the most sinister voice.
"Who are you?!", I yelled.
"I am just appalled at how cold and cruel you are, you can't even piece together who I am", he sighed.
"Tell me who you are, or I'll shoot", I yelled.
"I'm your brother!", he cried, letting out a thousand tears, "And I seek revenge". All of a

sudden he extended his hands out and began choking me, destroying me, until blood coursed from my eyes to my mouth, and I died, choking on my blood.