"Alfred, you wanker, hold on a moment! Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"
"Shut up, man! If our manager sees us arguing again, he'll fire us!"
"Fine! But this isn't over. You're my younger brother, so you must me respect." And with that, Arthur stomped out, leaving me alone in my office. He and I both worked in the south tower of the World Trade Center. I worked on the 41st floor; he was a few floors above me.
Arthur was born and raised in the UK, hence his accent. His parents had a powerful wanderlust, and they decided to move here in America when he was fourteen. I guess they thought he could use someone to him company because they adopted me from a nearby orphanage when I was eight. Like I said before, our parents loved to travel, so Arthur and I were left to ourselves often. Because of that, he practically raised me all on his own. Yeah, we had a good relationship. That is until I was seventeen.
As I grew into my teen years, I hate being treated as a child, and I rebelled against Arthur. As a result, we constantly fought over the stupidest things. What food I should eat, when to study, even what I should wear. You name it, we fought over it. At seventeen, I ran away. As I walking out the door, I told him how much I hated him, that I don't need him. When I look back to that night, I couldn't believe those words came out of my mouth. Ever since, the gap between us was uncross able.
I sigh in frustration. Why did we have fight all the damn time? I can't even remember when this whole mess started. Is this how it's always going to be? I look out the window as if hoping to find an answer in the clouds. Then I see something out in the distance. I squint my eyes to try to find out what it was, but when I realized what it was, it was too late.
"HOLY SHI-!" I didn't finish my statement as the plane crashed. Smoke and debris filled my office, screams of panic and agony was all I can hear. I tried to stand, but an excruciating pain shot up my leg. I check to see what it was only to find a pile of rubble on my leg, I couldn't move. I needed help; I called the first name that popped into my head.
"Arthur…Arthur!" I shout into the darkness. Please I'm sorry for everything. I continue to shout for my brother. But he didn't come. Just as I'm about to give up, I hear him.
"Alfred!" loud and clear, I hear him call out to me. "Alfred, can you hear?"
With the little strength I had left, I answer, "Arthur…Arthur, over here…"
"Alfred, are you okay?" Right before me was my caring older brother cover in cuts, scrapes, and dirt. "Oh, Alfred, it's all right, I'm here. I'll get you out." even though he's talking like i'm five years old, his words eased my pain a little. He began to move the rubble off my leg and soon he was able to lift me up. I try to walk, but the pain was too great. "You git, don't walk. Your leg is broken."
I feel lightheaded from the blood loss and look up at Arthur. "Hey, I'm sorry," He looked at me. "for everything." He smiles.
"I'll always be there for you no matter what."