"Tyki…Tyki. Tyki? Tyki!"

I am sitting on him. My knees are on his chest.

He is breathing, but not moving.

And he is still, until he starts to scream.

And he screams. And he screams. And he screams. And he screams. And he screams, and he screams, and he screams, and he screams, and he screams and he screams. Screams, screams, screams, screams.

And I cry.

And he screams.

And this goes on.

And then he stops. And I still cry. Because his forehead is bleeding. Seven bloody crosses, in a line across his forehead.

I run down the streets yelling, "Doctor! Someone help! Anyone know where I can find a doctor?"

But no one listens. People recognize me here, and they each assume it is just another trick.

But it's not.

Because my brother is hurt, and I need help. And now salty tears are streaming down my cheeks, because I realize, that if he dies, then I will be all alone.

No one else trusts me, and no one else cares for me, because I am a thief and a liar. Because I am a cheat. Because I am dirty, and hungry, and homeless, and hopeless. Because I am different.

So I sit myself down and cry.