Family Part 1

A Story by Wolfgang

Just stories of my life

I remember the day my brother came home with blood on his shirt. I was about 8 years old. My brother is older than me by a lot When my brother walked in with the blood on his shirt I was too scared to ask him what happened. I think a part of him wanted to tell me but knew he couldn't.

I just pretended that I didn't even notice. I think I went as far as asking him why he has ketchup on his shirt. I felt as if he knew I was being sarcastic but he went along with it anyways. My brother was sort of my role model, not because he was living a great life or anything but simply because he was my bother.

At the time I lived with my mom and 2 younger sisters, and my dad, but my dad was always at work so it was like he never lived there. When my mom came home and saw his shirt she knew exactly what it was. She didn't play stupid like I did she told him to come up stairs. As he left for the stairs I followed him but I tried making it as discreet as possible. He knew I was following him but he didn't know how to tell me to stop. He only looked back at me once, staring at me with a blank look on his face as if he was confessing something to me. Once he turned back around and kept moving I stopped following him, but only for a moment.

Our house at the time wasn't that big so I only waited about 30 seconds then continued to follow him. He got to my mom's room I could hear everything. My mom knew it wasn't his blood but made my brother tell her himself. So whose blood was it? I never found that out. But a couple hours later the police showed up at our door and took my brother away. My brother came home the next day and a couple weeks later he moved out. Since that day my brother has never been the same.