Chapter 1 - My Brother
Submitted January 13, 2008 Updated April 6, 2010 Status Incomplete | Okay, so, the other day I was thinking (scary, huh?). I have no way to share my short stories other than creating a story thing for each. why not just have one whole 'story' for short stories? so, here we are. Just Because.
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Miscellaneous » Writing |
Chapter 1 - My Brother
Chapter 1 - My Brother
My Brother
Twilight. The hour closest to Hades. The hour most claim to see ghosts.
And the hour I saw my brother.
He was walking, in no hurry, no rush, just walking. He was wrapped in his coat, boots scuffing the sidewalk, gloves pushed low in his pockets. I knew he wasnt real, he couldnt be. My brother was dead, but
He was there, right in front of me!
I called out to him, my voice cracking with the pain in my sore throat. He didnt answer me, just looked into my tear-filled eyes. Again, I called to him, taking to a run; I wanted to see him so badly, even with tears misting my vision.
As I reached him, I & I saw right through him. That was when my fears were realized. My brother was dead; it wasnt just a bad dream.
The car swerved...he pushed me out...the car tumbled off the bridge... The scene played in my head over and over again, never stopping. I felt dizzy, but it was real.
He was dead. And I was seeing his ghost. Did he regret saving me and not himself? I asked him&but I got no response. He just gazed at me no, though me and his eyes seemed&hungry, almost.
But I wasnt afraid of my brother; I was safe, he couldnt, wouldnt hurt me. I knew.
Or, at least, I believed.
I must have missed something, because at that moment, my brother reached out his hand and we were together in the twilight, the hour closest to Hades, when ghosts can be seen.
I was cold, very cold. But that must have been why my brother wore that huge coat of his.
End.
Twilight. The hour closest to Hades. The hour most claim to see ghosts.
And the hour I saw my brother.
He was walking, in no hurry, no rush, just walking. He was wrapped in his coat, boots scuffing the sidewalk, gloves pushed low in his pockets. I knew he wasnt real, he couldnt be. My brother was dead, but
He was there, right in front of me!
I called out to him, my voice cracking with the pain in my sore throat. He didnt answer me, just looked into my tear-filled eyes. Again, I called to him, taking to a run; I wanted to see him so badly, even with tears misting my vision.
As I reached him, I & I saw right through him. That was when my fears were realized. My brother was dead; it wasnt just a bad dream.
The car swerved...he pushed me out...the car tumbled off the bridge... The scene played in my head over and over again, never stopping. I felt dizzy, but it was real.
He was dead. And I was seeing his ghost. Did he regret saving me and not himself? I asked him&but I got no response. He just gazed at me no, though me and his eyes seemed&hungry, almost.
But I wasnt afraid of my brother; I was safe, he couldnt, wouldnt hurt me. I knew.
Or, at least, I believed.
I must have missed something, because at that moment, my brother reached out his hand and we were together in the twilight, the hour closest to Hades, when ghosts can be seen.
I was cold, very cold. But that must have been why my brother wore that huge coat of his.
End.
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