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Description
He was only six, six years wasn't nearly long enough time on the earth. And what a terrible six years it was. I could've saved him, I tried, and I almost did.
Naiko was by far the happiest of my family, but that only meant he could smile from time to time. Sakae was the worst; her problems went straight to the bottle. My mother and father never saw any of unhappiness. They didn't see Naiko curled up between the cabinets away from the shrieking, stumbling Sakae, while I looked for another safe hiding place. She didn't have the mind to look in small places close to the ground. They didn't hear my screams when she pulled and tore at my hair nor did they smell the acrid stench of alcohol that permanently followed my older sister around like a dark shadow. How could they? They were busy at work...trying to do what? Give us the perfect lives they could only dream of? Or maybe just avoiding the mess of their family.
I was fifteen when I decided to try and save Naiko and myself. We packed our bags with the things we needed, and we walked out. Naiko rested against my back as I carried him through our city.
I ended up getting lost and I had taken us to the bad side of town, by accident.
Gun shots rang out around us. I broke into a run; people were slamming into us from every direction. Naiko began to scream in terror. The shots kept sounding from everywhere. Still I ran. I used my forearms to push into every door I passed, none of them opened. Except one.
The door collapsed under my weight, and dust choked us as we stumbled in. It seemed abandoned. It also seemed stable.
I set my baby brother on an old leather couch, sending more dust flying. I should have heard the creaks and shudders, seen the beams buckle. I was careless... and tired. I walked away for a second, it was only a second.
The ceiling caved in on top of him, I heard the scream then the crash. There was no sign of my little brother anywhere, only floorboards, drywall, and the broken pieces of a desk where he once was.
I screamed his name and began to yank chunks of the upper floor off of him. His crying that I already could barely hear became softer. I found his hand first and grabbed onto it, pulling more stuff off trying desperately to find his head. His hand held on gently, as tightly as he could manage. The cries faded from whimpers to silence the moment before I pulled the last beam from him. His hand was limp in mine.
I begged him to wake up; I shook him, and finally pulled him close. I brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and closed them for him.
I don't remember how long I was there, but I remember laying him down and standing up.
Suddenly a gruff voice sounded from the dark parts of the house, "Your money. Give it to me now." Desperation crept into his voice. The owner of the voice stepped into what dim light there was, "Money. Now." he demands once more. He was so thin; his clothes hung off his shoulders and sagged generously. I must've not responded because he pulled a blade from the folds of his clothes. It glinted in places where rust hadn't begun to eat away. "Give me the money." He trembled again, his hand was shaking.
I fumbled to shove my hand in my pocket. Much too fast for his liking. A sharp pain exploded in my chest. I could barely think about how I fell to my knees, and shaking hands searching my pockets. Everything was the pain in my chest and my world was fading to black. The last think I saw was my brother's peaceful, still face.

Description
He was only six, six years wasn't nearly long enough time on the earth. And what a terrible six years it was. I could've saved him, I tried, and I almost did.
Naiko was by far the happiest of my family, but that only meant he could smile from time to time. Sakae was the worst; her problems went straight to the bottle. My mother and father never saw any of unhappiness. They didn't see Naiko curled up between the cabinets away from the shrieking, stumbling Sakae, while I looked for another safe hiding place. She didn't have the mind to look in small places close to the ground. They didn't hear my screams when she pulled and tore at my hair nor did they smell the acrid stench of alcohol that permanently followed my older sister around like a dark shadow. How could they? They were busy at work...trying to do what? Give us the perfect lives they could only dream of? Or maybe just avoiding the mess of their family.
I was fifteen when I decided to try and save Naiko and myself. We packed our bags with the things we needed, and we walked out. Naiko rested against my back as I carried him through our city.
I ended up getting lost and I had taken us to the bad side of town, by accident.
Gun shots rang out around us. I broke into a run; people were slamming into us from every direction. Naiko began to scream in terror. The shots kept sounding from everywhere. Still I ran. I used my forearms to push into every door I passed, none of them opened. Except one.
The door collapsed under my weight, and dust choked us as we stumbled in. It seemed abandoned. It also seemed stable.
I set my baby brother on an old leather couch, sending more dust flying. I should have heard the creaks and shudders, seen the beams buckle. I was careless... and tired. I walked away for a second, it was only a second.
The ceiling caved in on top of him, I heard the scream then the crash. There was no sign of my little brother anywhere, only floorboards, drywall, and the broken pieces of a desk where he once was.
I screamed his name and began to yank chunks of the upper floor off of him. His crying that I already could barely hear became softer. I found his hand first and grabbed onto it, pulling more stuff off trying desperately to find his head. His hand held on gently, as tightly as he could manage. The cries faded from whimpers to silence the moment before I pulled the last beam from him. His hand was limp in mine.
I begged him to wake up; I shook him, and finally pulled him close. I brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and closed them for him.
I don't remember how long I was there, but I remember laying him down and standing up.
Suddenly a gruff voice sounded from the dark parts of the house, "Your money. Give it to me now." Desperation crept into his voice. The owner of the voice stepped into what dim light there was, "Money. Now." he demands once more. He was so thin; his clothes hung off his shoulders and sagged generously. I must've not responded because he pulled a blade from the folds of his clothes. It glinted in places where rust hadn't begun to eat away. "Give me the money." He trembled again, his hand was shaking.
I fumbled to shove my hand in my pocket. Much too fast for his liking. A sharp pain exploded in my chest. I could barely think about how I fell to my knees, and shaking hands searching my pockets. Everything was the pain in my chest and my world was fading to black. The last think I saw was my brother's peaceful, still face.