Big Brother

   The bullet arched towards me like lightning. I expected to feel the impact as it cut through my heart, tore up every bone, and rip right through my seams. But it never came. Warm and clear fluid leaked on my face, but the blood wasn't mine.  Big brother stood in front of me, his hand clamped tightly on his side. Fresh Vitae, the blood of a Marionette, oozed between his fingers. The pain was twisted and embedded in his face. The usually olive-toned face I was so used to was pale and weak. My heart felt like it had taken the recoil of the bullet and got torn in two when I watched him collapse.
   The tears were immediate with no warning.  The amount of anger and agony that was in me was surprising in all ways possible. A silent wail of dejection was caught in between my throat and heart. However, where as most eight-year old kids  would have kept crying, my desolation was smoldered by my fit of rile. Using the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears and stood up. Despite my puny size, I was a threat to anyone or anything that could lay a finger on my brother (which is pretty hard). In an instant, I had my double set of Vortex 71399 pistols in my hand and at that moment, I had no mercy.
   Blood lust seemed to flame the sides of my dark brown eyes which appeared to be a beady black from afar.  Holding up both pistols, I let out seven bullets which all hit their destination. The meddling shadows that shot my brother writhed in anguish as I shot all twenty of them one by one.  When I was done and the dead shadows withered in the light, I fell to my knees.
   All my blood lust was suddenly gone and I was once again an ordinary eight-year old running for his life. Big brother was barley breathing.  Every shallow breath appeared painful. The expression on his face was unreadable. Finally, when his eyes opened, I knew he would not stay alive much longer. "When a marionette's eyes change to a light shade of gray, they will not live to see the next dawn," I remembered the lesson very clearly.
   Instinctively, I pulled out a short blade, also remembering another important lesson. "A true marionette puppet's blood is clear. It has the fragrance of flowers and the taste of a confection of nectar. It can be used to heal," I tried to dig the knife into my wrist, but a hand clamped down on the knife before I could.
   "This...is beyond the region that... Vitae can heal... I've snapped seven strings" he croaked.
   "But I don't want you to go..." I said, now sounding like the vulnerable child I was.
   "Samuel Sung.... That is your name..."
   I froze. Big brother told me that we had names, but it was better not to know them. Was he telling me now so I would know before he died?

   "Ethan Sung, my name. We were crafted by the same artisan... same last name....Samuel, can you make a...promise for me?" he paused for a second to cough some blood. That showed me he had minutes, possibly seconds.

   "Anything!"
   "Promise me... that even when I die... you will not let yourself be captured...by the Abyss... Ever."
   "I promise, Ethan," I replied, tears now falling faster than ever.
   A brief smile smile rested on Ethan's battered face before I heard a click and his eyes closed. Forever.
   I wanted of stop crying, but the tears kept falling. The wails grew into screams. And all I could think about was the fact that I was now completely alone in this world.

. . .

   After I was done crying, I forced my numb legs to stand up and run away. The rhythmic pattern of my feet on the floor was the only thing that kept my mind awake. After a while, I stopped and hit myself on the head. This was no time to be a moping child. This was a time for me to be the child living in the adult world. Walking faster now, I checked my various bruises and weapons. I was still in possession of my two pistols and one short knife and all of my strings were intact to use as a weapon if needed.
   With new life and new hope, I bounded forward, because I made a promise to someone significant to me. So in this world I'll run, more because of that. Because I am Samuel Sung, one of the last true Marionettes in this screwed up world.

Author's Note

Please feel free to tell me all of your opinions, but please try to ignore my horrid grammar ^-^

Reviews

[Tiz Poetry]

really harsh how burn in to your readers in detail with your words, and descriptions...'Despite my puny size, I was a threat to anyone or anything that could lay a finger on my brother (which is pretty hard).' yes this has to be when i dropped my spaghetti in my cup.....'I wanted of stop crying, but the tears kept falling. The wails grew into screams. And all I could think about was the fact that I was now completely alone in this world.' true to his age and situation.. no matter how crazy you made it i am waiting for the next one... thank you for the new look on life :P