Wither Works - Chapter 1 - Ages Ago
"...call the police..."
"...missing child..."
"...help..."
"...hostages..."
"...I was so scared..."
"...devastating..."
"C'mon!" I blinked tiredly as I broke out of my trance. Sending one last lingering look at the news anchor on the screen, I forced my eyes to land on my older brother's figure. Without even sparing a glance at me, he was already heading out the door, shouting at me to hurry up without even waiting.
I huffed, frustration threatening to lash out from my brother's new rebellious phase. Nonetheless, I bounced off the couch and began grabbing all the stuff I would never leave home without while being careful not to block my dad's view as the television enslaved his attention as it previously did mine. My mom walked through the small hallway with my little brother whimpering in her arms as I stuffed everything I was holding into my backpack.
"...no survivors…"
I shot the TV another look and paused. "Hey, mom..." I mumbled hesitantly, shooting an uneasy look towards the woman. "Do you think… maybe… something bad will happen soon?"
Of course, she wasn't paying attention. My mom was busy trying to care for the infant in her arms. It didn't bother me much. As a third child, my parents were already old when I was born and their senses were only getting wearier. I shrugged it off and headed out. My older brother didn't like waiting after all.
A classroom that usually beamed with energy was silenced by a noise ripping through the air like a strike of lightning; in a city where the sun shined yearly, we knew otherwise. For people like us, explosion weren't exactly uncommon: annoying firecrackers, monthly car crash, the occasional gunshots...
It didn't exactly click for that one student as he voiced his confusion which was answered with a joke as if to ease the mood, pretend it was just our imagination, as if it didn't really happen. But it did.
The school's P.A. system - the one that was supposed to be used only for the daily greetings and announcements - told us that we were under a lockdown and no, this wasn't a drill.
I think all of our hearts stopped beating when the sound of another gunshot rang in our ears. That's when the comprehension snapped us out of our blank states of denial and hopeful wishes as the panic crawled in.
Some ran around the room like a headless chicken, searching for some sort escape as the teacher uncertainty tried to control the situation; others scrambled to find a hiding spot, even desperately crawling under their desk; and the rest froze like statues, denial still racking at their minds.
The tensions were thick as bullets flew from what seemed like mere meters away and ohgodwereabouttodi-
The familiar ring of police sirens blared from outside and there the shots stopped. We all let out a breath of relief.
Less than 100 students were killed. Some of the people I've known for years were killed. I tried my best to attend each and every one of their funerals and I didn't shed a single tear.
"When was the last time you saw him?" The officer questioned, notepad and pencil in hand.
I patted Mom's back as she quietly sobbed.
Dad solemnly answered, "One month ago."
The officer nodded as he scribbled down some more notes before flipping the notepad back to the cover and slipping it away into his pocket. "Sir," he started, placing a hand on my dad's shoulder. "We'll do our best to find your son. For now, be patient."
I felt the hand in my left tighten. I looked down at my little brother. "It's gonna' be okay," I whispered reassuringly. He looked as if he didn't believe it. Hell, even Ididn't believe it.
In the end, we never saw our older brother again.
"There was an accident on the highway and I'm sorry to say that your parents didn't make it."
"There were complications and well… your sister had a miscarriage."
"DON'T LOOK! AND CALL 911!"I shrieked, shoving my brother out of the room, away from our sister's unmoving body and bottle of pills next to it.
"Can I stop now?" My brother whined, he placing yet another moving box down in our new apartment.
I bit my lip as I checked the time on my phone. "Yeah, sure. It's almost dinner time anyway." The kid's face lit up at the idea of food. "But I have to make it first." His shoulders visually drooped at the thought of waiting, making me chuckle as I searched the fridge, the one thing that we decided to fill first.
"I-I could help you cook," my brother offered. "Maybe… with, like, cutting stuff?"
That's weird. He doesn't usually want to help and besides, "Can I trust you with a knife?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He gasped playfully, pretending to be offended. "How dare- I would never." He gripped the place over his heart as a fake flash of pain slipped onto his face. "My own sister… not believing in me." He wiped a stray tear away.
I snorted. "Alright, alright. Stop the act." I admit the kid could make it big if he chooses to go in the entertainment business. I gestured to one of the drawers. "The knives are in there. Remember to wash it before and after using."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I-I'm sorry. I h-had to. They told me...They told me I need to...I am so sorry. Sorry. Sorry. God, I am so sorry." The sound of my brother's apologies and excuses become muffled as everything spun round androundandIcantfocusonanythingelsebuttheknifeinmybackandthepuddleofbloodImlyinginandforthefirsttimeinmylife-
I don't know what to do.
I spent yearsmaking plan after plan for this family. Years of blood, sweat, and tears just trying to find a safe place for me. For us. All for nothing!
All my hard work wasted… because I'm dying.
… die? … die? I'm… going… to… die...?
die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die… die…
I'm… died?
A/N: Warning, REALLY slow updates