Already Dead Inside

Am I really going to do this?

Yes. I have to.

I don't want anyone to hurt my brother, so this ins the only thing I can think to do to prevent that from happening. I love my brother too much to see him get hurt, despite anything that he's done in the past.

I sighed as I opened the door to the flat. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I took in the bloody mess in the living room, broken glass still littering the floor. I can see smudges on the floor where he sat and smeared the blood all around him. His bloody footprints plastered across the floor from his frantic pacing.

My hands began to shake as the chair Amy sat in came into view. Blood covered every single inch, not leaving a spot untouched, except for a solitary hand print left my Mikey.

I gasped, my hand covering my mouth to muffle the screams that threatened to escape, as I took in Mikey's 'art work' on the wall.

"Smile" Yet another hand print was plastered right next to the words written in blood. The blood, now dried slightly, dripped down onto the floor.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I entered the kitchen, where just a few weeks ago, my best friends were murdered. I pulled open the one drawer I thought I would never open again, and pulled out the all too familiar weapon.

The light from the overhead fixture reflected off of the large knife and glinted onto my face. This knife is the only think Mikey has ever wanted to keep clean. I'm somewhat thankful for that. The reason is beyond even me.

Another sigh escaped my lips as I pushed off of the counter, and headed towards Mikey's room. I know he's asleep by now. I made sure I stayed out long enough for him to be asleep. There's no way I'd be able to do this if he was awake. I didn't want to see the look of betrayal in his eyes.

I took in another shaky breath as I slowly turned the door knob and opened the door. Mikey lay on his back in his bed. His mouth hanging slightly open as soft snores escape his parted lips. The duvet only covers half of his sleeping form, his hands lay lazily on either side of him. I slowly and quietly walked forward, careful not to wake him.

I gasped lightly as I saw Amy's blood still staining his clothes and face.

A single tear fell down my cheek as I raised the knife with a shaky hand. My wide eyes were fixed upon his chest as another tear streaked down my cheek. I bit down on my lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free.

"I-I'm so s-sorry Mikes."

My voice was barely above a whisper, cracking as I spoke.

I took in a sharp, quick breath as I drove the knife down, directly into the center of his chest.

His eyes snapped open as his whole body tensed up. As I pushed the knife in deeper, his body went limp and his eyes slowly rolled shut.

The blood quickly spilled out from the wound, covering my hands in the crimson liquid. I lost control then. My brother is gone. He's dead.

He's never waking up.

I fell to my knees, my head now level with Mikey's. Tears now fell freely down my face as the screams of agony and loss finally broke through. One of my shaky hands brushed his hair out of his face as the other gently stroked his blood streaked face.

"I...I'm sorry M-mikey."

I sniffled, choking back sobs as I continued to speak to my now dead brother.

"Th-this is the only...only way f-for me to protect y-you. I-i had to do it."

My shaky hand fisted his blood stained shirt as I leaned forward and gently kissed his forehead.

"I love you, Mikey."

I quickly pulled the knife out of his chest and dropped it to the floor. Seeing the blood flow heavily from his wound sparked an interest deep within me that I've never understood before.

I reached my hand out to touch the red liquid, but quickly drew my hand back.

"No. No, no, NO!"

I shook my head and stormed out of Mikey's bedroom and ran back into the kitchen. I took the bin bags from the cabinet and ran back to Mikey's room.

It took a little while, and quite a bit of effort, but I finally stuffed him into the bags and drug him into the living room.

I looked around at the blood-stained mess and shook my head.

I can't do it. I just can't clean this mess up this time. It's too much.

There is only one thing to do.

I opened the door slightly, checking to see if anyone was in the hall. No one could be seen, so I slung Mikey's body over my shoulder and shut the door behind me. His body wasn't as heavy as I thought it was. I took the stairs instead of the elevator. Because if someone saw me, they would just think I was taking out the trash.

It wasn't easy, but I finally put Mikey into the backseat of the car. Another tear fell down my cheek as I quickly ran back up the stairs and back into the flat.

I wasted no time in grabbing the two liquor bottles we had left, along with two dish towels. I shoved the towels into the bottles, leaving some at the top. With one last look, I lit each of the towels' ends with the lighter from my pocket and threw the bottles down the hallway.

The flames grew quickly as the bottles smashed onto the floor, licking their way up the walls and into Mikey's room. There would be no evidence now.

I shut the door and ran down the stairs again. As I reached my car, you could already hear the sirens blaring in the distance. No matter what, they would be too late. By the time they got here, the whole top floor would be consumed.

I stared at the flames, coming through the windows, in my rear-view mirror as I sped off towards the park to bury my brother alongside my love.