Crimson Nightmare

Excellence In Writing Award in the 'Dream Big 2013' competition

I watched in silence as the crimson blood mixed with the rain as it washed over the hard cement surface of the alleyway. My short, damp hair stuck to my face in clumps; I couldn’t blink. The only sound was my beating heart reverberating in my mind as if it were competing against the heavy rain bounding off the road. The cold metal of the gun stung my hand but I couldn’t release it; my grip wrapped tightly around the revolver while my body stood disconnected from my mind. I had no control over my body. My gaze hovered unwavering on the lifeless body in front of me. Moments ago it had been warm, now the colour was drained from his face leaving a sickly paleness in its place. I‘d taken his greatest possession away from him. The steady beating of his heart and the warm flow of blood that had filled his veins was now gone. Yet I didn’t feel any remorse from the sin I’d just committed. I felt nothing. He’s fate was sealed from the moment I’d followed him from our home, my shirt stained with the dark blood of my little brother. My rage took control as I called out to the monster disguised as a human and my fury enhanced as the man turned towards me bearing a look of pleasure on his face. I watched as his grinning expression turned to one of shock when his gaze settled on the silver revolver in my hand. I raised my shaking palm and pointed the metal barrel at his chest, never once relinquishing my intense stare from his deep emerald eyes. It was my father’s gun that I held pointed at the man; I’d known exactly where to find it but had never imagined I’d ever aim it at a living, breathing person. I released the safety and felt a bullet slide into the chamber. I could see his tension, as the man stood, frozen with fear. He opened his mouth and stuttered a few words but I didn’t want to hear whatever plea he thought could save him when only moments ago I had witnessed him slice a blade across my brother’s neck, as I crouched hidden, mere metres away in a small, dark cupboard. My brothers pleading eyes was all that had kept me in there as they begged me to hide my presence. His fear was evident, but still he’d protected me.
I didn’t see the man as I squeezed the trigger and the bullet sliced through the cold, night air; the sound reverberating off the alley walls and echoing through the heavy rain. I only saw my brother. His wavy, blonde hair wrapped gently around his smiling face. I felt the warm tears slide down my cheeks as the sound of sirens penetrated through the deafening rain and the flash of red and blue reflected off the puddles surrounding me. The fog lifted from my mind as the gun finally slipped from my grip.

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