Page 4 of Fatality

Maybe they're giving orders, maybe they're yelling at each other, I can't tell anymore.

Just save my brother, that’s all I’m asking.

Please.

He needs to be okay, if not, what am I going to do without him?

They stop moving, they stop their movements.

Why? Is he okay now?

My heart beats so fast now that I think it’s going to jump out of my body.

I take a step forward mechanically, he’s going to be okay.

But when the old woman turns to look at me, I see her eyes and it stops me dead in my tracks.

Are they sad?

Then she does something that causes me to have my knees giving out—a small shake of her head.

What? Why is she—? Is my brother, okay?

I just want to know if he is okay.

The others medics turns their backs on him, grab a sort of long silver cover and pull it onto Kyle, covering his face.

Why are they covering him? He was cold, is it to warm him?

“I’m sorry sweetie,” The woman starts, her voice small “We couldn’t save him.”

The world stops, the tears streaming down my face stop, my heart and breathing stops.

The words don't mean anything anymore, I stop hearing the moment she apologizes.

Slowly, I lower my gaze to my hands.

They're scratched, filthy, soaked by the rain, and shaking so violently I barely recognize them as my own.

There is blood.

His blood is covering me completely.

I gasp awake, sitting up so fast the room spins slightly around me.

Cold sweat beads down my skin as I stare down at my hands.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing.

No blood.

I suck in a sharp breath and look around—I’m in my room, in my bed.

The familiar dark concrete walls lit by the neon glow bleeding through the windows.

I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress and bury my face in my hands before dragging one of them out, still shaking through my long black hair.

“Fuck...”