O Brother Where Art Thou

A Story by Lina Lynn

Prompt: A girl wakes up to find a little boy sitting on her bed, claiming to be her younger brother — but she never had one.

“I don’t understand. I don’t have a little brother.” She’s frightened at the sight of him, knows she should probably be screaming for her parents to save her, but there’s something about him that’s so familiar, she just needs a few more minutes to place it.

“Well, yeah, I mean, I used to be your big brother,” the boy says nonchalantly as he gets off her bed to explore her room, brushing his fingers against the various knick knacks and stopping briefly at a framed picture of her and her parents to lay it face down. “But you’re older now than I was then so I guess you’re the big sister now. Took you long enough. Must be cool. I bet you get to stay up late.”

She did on weekends, but not as late as she’d like. And that really wasn’t the point right now.

“This isn’t real. I don’t have a brother. I would remember.” Something like hurt flashes through the boy’s eyes even though he’d expected as much, but he hides it by ducking his head down to peruse the titles on her small bookshelf.

“Well, I remember you. You used to follow me around all the time, beg me to play with you. ‘Danny do this. Danny do that.’”

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“Danny, push!” The wind rushes through her hair as the swing flies her through the air, her loud laughter permeating the backyard. “Higher, Danny!”

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But, no, that wasn’t right, was it?

She remembers her mom shaking her awake. “Honey, are you having that dream again? We told you, there’s no Danny, baby. He’s not real.”

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Her parents wouldn’t lie to her, would they? They loved her. And she would remember if she had a brother, she insisted to herself stubbornly.

But still, he was so familiar.

“I don’t understand. If you’re telling the truth, then where have you been! And why are you here now?

The gentle curiosity falls off the boy’s face to be replaced with a mask of stone, eyes haunted when he turns to the girl, filled with horrors that his short life shouldn’t have even been capable of containing, though his voice is soft, The way you’d talk to a frightened animal.

“I came to warn you. Watch out for Mom and Dad. I’m not even the first sibling you’ve had.”