Took a break fro working on my other story, Broca, to write this. This idea popped into my head tonight and I decided to write it while the idea was still fresh.

Enjoy :)

March 24th, 2007

We kicked him out. We kicked my only brother out. He was only eleven. Eleven for fucks sake. Why? Because we got superstitious. We locked out the only male child in the family overnight. What is wrong with us? A LOT, I can tell you that. Personally I'm ashamed. Not just in my family, but mostly in myself. I can't believe we did what we did. I can't believe I did what I did. Lincoln and I had a good relationship, and I messed that up. Big time. Worst part? I can never make up for it. Why? Because when we all locked the poor kid out, he saw a stray dog and tried to save it from an oncoming car.

He died. My only brother died in the street by a hit and run driver who we'd find out went to our high school; he was headed home from a party. Right in front of his own home. The one where he was locked out of. There is no way around it; that was fucked up. And it's all our fault.

The next morning started off like any other, waited in line for a turn in the bathroom, got my cereal, you know, the normal morning routine everybody and their grandmother goes through. It was all fine and dandy until I remembered my brother. 'Oh crap' I said. 'We forgot about Linc!'.

I hurried out back like any "caring" sister would. But if you've been reading along, you'd know damn well he wasn't there. I called out his name multiple times. He was right there in the street when I found him, completely lifeless with blood puddled under his head from the blunt force trauma of being hit by a car going 50 in a 30.

If my screaming and crying didn't wake up the rest of the neighborhood, I don't know what would, because my throat hurt for the rest of that day. But that (of course) didn't matter at all, because my only brother died the night before, and I could've prevented it.

Bad luck my ass.

The next week wasn't good either. On top of mourning for my brother, the police and the media got involved. So mom and dad were looking at big jail time- and that was not good in any way imaginable. Grandpa got to take care of us, so at least we now got to use up the rest of his retirement money over the course of us growing up. For the younger siblings, they'd grow up without their parents and with a dead brother. I can only hope that their social lived didn't suffer in their later years. Poor Lily, she never really got to meet her brother.

School life didn't go well. A lot of our social lives were destroyed and most of us dropped our activities because we were too depressed to keep going (that and, most didn't want us participating in them anyway after what we did).

Life sucked. But hey, that's karma, right? Right? Sometimes wonder if the people of Royal Woods ever forgave my family and I. Time is supposed to heal, and we were only a suburb of Detroit, so some crime had to have taken the spotlight. Well turns out it blew up on Reddit, so you can count that out. Thanks to the internet, within a week I couldn't say my last name around town without getting looks from people.

But I'd be fine if my family would stick together. Right, because my parents are dealing with the court, homelife sucks. Some got bitter, others were too depressed and guilt-ridden to leave their rooms. I tried to keep my optimism, but the atmosphere was just too dark.

I lost everything, even the one. The one; the only person I'd ever loved like I did. To this day, I can't get that look of disappointment on their face out of my mind. I remember the conversation like it was just yesterday.

'Did you really lock your own brother out?' I couldn't respond to that. I froze. Those eyes just kept glaring at me.

Saying yes was the hardest thing I'd ever said in my entire life.

'I'd never do that to my brother.'

Then came the most painful silence, and that last good look I ever got at her.

'I can't believe you Luna… I'm sorry, but I don't think I should hang out with you anymore.'

Then the goddess I loved walk out of my life. Forever. My love story with her ended before it even started.

The next five minutes consisted of me trying not to cry while going to class. But I couldn't enter, because she was in there. I remember standing by the doorway, unable to move, getting looks from those who I assume heard the news. My teacher looked at me awkwardly. My favorite teacher. I took one step back, turned around and bumped into some guy, spilling his coffee all over his shirt. His angry yelling went through one ear and out the other. Everything was a blur. I just ran. One foot in front of the other as fast as I could, weaving in and out of crowds of people. I got to the front entrance and I remember seeing Leni, who gave me a concerned look through her teary eyes. We looked at each other for a moment. I sometimes wonder if she knew what I was doing. Either way- what I was going to do happened.

Home wasn't what it used to be. It used to be so… so happy. But I guess we all ruined that. And that was what was most apparent when I barged in. That was also very, very apparent when I started packing a duffel bag full of clothes, money, and some food. I put my guitar in its case. And headed toward the door. Then I stopped. I turned to my desk; there was some paper on it I usually used for songwriting.

I walked back to it, sat down a got started writing.

Walking out the front door sucked. I hurt, really, but I don't deserve a house I denied to my only brother. At least Ieft notes for all of them.

Only there was one more letter to deliver.

I had to wait until around midnight to deliver that one, school hours were about up and I couldn't leave it while she was home and awake. Even then, I had to be sneaky, because I could hear the Vanzilla. I then somewhat regretted letting Lori drive me to Sam's house a few times. Sam was still awake, she looked so sad, I just wanted to climb in hug her; but I couldn't. So I tapped the letter to her window. I got one last look at her. As Vanzilla approached, I had to get out of there quick, so I tried hopping down, but instead fell. I remember hearing a window opening after I got back up and got the hell out of there.

The bus ride out of Royal Woods was by far the worst few hours of my life. But I took comfort in knowing I was getting what I deserved.