Come on. Come on. Pick up.

She held the phone to her chest when it cut off once again, closing her eyes with a deep sigh. He was supposed to meet her there twenty minutes ago for their last date as boyfriend and girlfriend. But no, he just had to be late, he just had to break her heart like that.

All she could hope was that he was playing a prank, and that he was going to sneak up behind her, place his hands over her eyes and say, "Guess who?" She smiled, imagining the picture in her head. Oh, it was a wonderful picture. The thought of him leaning up against her back with his arms around her, his warmth seeping through her clothes, made her all the happier…

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her reverie. Feeling sheer relief flooding her, she lifted it up and looked at the screen. Only to shrink when she saw that it was only her brother calling. With yet another sigh, she flipped it open.

"What is it?"

"You need to come. Like, now. I'm at the north mall, across from the Belk."

"But I'm waiting for -"

"Now," was all he said before the line went dead.

She swallowed, cocking her head in confusion. Her brother never made sense to her. Giving her head a small shake, she stood up from the ground and started walking back to the car. It didn't look like he was going to show up anyways, she might as well figure out why her brother called and hung up as he did.

…

"Are you sure it's safe for her to see- to see this?"

"She'll see it eventually, no matter how hard we try to hide it from her."

"He was such a nice boy, so good to her. I can't believe someone would do such a thing."

"Me either."

…

Stepping out of the car, she turned and headed into the mall, passing the unusually large crowd and the expensive decorations. For some reason, as she walked to the other side of the building, emotions started bubbling up inside her. Something in her gut told her that nothing was good if her brother – her oh-so-strong brother – called her as urgent as he had. And now as she thought back to the short conversation, she realized something. His voice didn't sound quite the same. It seemed… weaker. Quieter, like he was holding something back. . .

The muscles in her shoulders tightened, and her pace quickened.

And that was when she saw it. The crowd. The tape. The police.

Her breath caught in her throat. What was going on here?

As she approached, it felt as if the people suddenly stopped breathing, their eyes turning to her in a motion of panic. Her brother was among them, though his gaze held a different emotion within them. They wavered when their sights locked, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I'm so sorry."

The words slammed into her with incredible force, turning her legs into jelly. Sorry? Her brother never said sorry.

She turned her head and stared into the store.

Cold.

It froze her bones and her heart. Her blood seemed to stop flowing, and dizziness made her vision darken.

There.

There he was.

Lying.

Propped up against a shelf.

A can was shoved into his mouth. Blood covered his teeth.

On his shirt, a nice collared button-down shirt, were… words. Words. Words.

Written in his own blood.

"Stay away from her."

Her legs crumpled, and she sunk to the floor. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't. There he was, her date, sprawled on the floor. A can in his mouth, a knife in his neck. His jaw dislocated. His teeth bleeding. That blood scrawled across his newly pressed shirt.

A hand touched her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

No.

Please, no.

"We found him too late."

The brother pulled her into a hug, a tear dripping down his chin.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," he choked.

"There's nothing we can do."

_____________

Author's Note:

It's going to be a while before I upload, because of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Witing Month, for those who don't know). Probably won't post until December, so I hope you enjoy reading the first few stories I posted.

2: Story 2: Always Too Late

She stared, clutching her books tightly in her arms. Her eyes were wide as they gazed down the brightly lit and tiled hallway of the college. Just moments before, she could have sworn... she could have sworn that she had saw him. Her love, her pain, her stupidity, as he walked down to another room with two friends. She blinked, but the picture had faded before her eyes, and she was stranded once more within reality.

Giving a sigh, one that yanked every last morsel of happiness from her gut and threw it out into the air for someone else to recieve, she closed her eyes for a short moment. Her grip tightened on the books, making their corners dig into the skin on her chest.

It was still so vivid. The blood, the can, the knife. The very things that took her love away from her, so cruelly. The picture flashed in front of her - a tragedy put on reply, rolling through the same scene over and over until you couldn't help but cry.

Why couldn't the movie stop? It was already hard enough to... to bear with the first sight. She couldn't stand seeing his face hundreds of times within the few days that had passed. The life fading from his eyes, the heat from his body. The very thing that kept him alive and living had been drained out of him, thrust onto the cleaned floor of a small store in the mall.

"It's too late," she whispered, opening her eyes and forcing herself to step forward and exit through the glass doors. If only they would shatter, if only one of the sharp shards could have buried itself within her own throat and taken her away. She would see him again, so it would be worth thrashing about in agony while people tried to remove the broken, translucent sheet from her skin. "It's always too late."

Too late to turn back.

Too late to wrap her arms around his cold frame.

Why? Why had she stood there, weeping on her brother's shoulder when she could have been hugging him? Kissing his face? Touching the smoothe, cold skin on his cheeks?

Why didn't she cut off a piece of his bloodied shirt so that she could have a piece of him to carry around with her, so that she would know that she had never been alone? It would remind her that the grief was only temporarily eating away at her heart.

The noon sun shone down, showering its rays of light upon the world.

She looked up, squinting at the burning sphere. She thought that the sun was supposed to be warm and kind and gentle. But all it did was send waves of cold down her spine, showering the memories that fateful day had painfully thrust onto her. It had been sunny the day she waited or him to show up, waited for him to answer her call or sneak up behind her in an attempt to scare her-

Oh, he had snuck up on her. He had scared her. But she knew that the feeling would forever eat away at her, breaking her down bit by bit as the days moved by, no faster than a crippled slug.

And that evening...

Her throat constricting, she forced back a stream of tears.

That evening.

It was going to rip her in two, and not even her brother would be able to sew her back together.

That evening.

She would feel everlasting tears drip down her face to soak the carpet below her.

That evening...

Was there even a way for her to survive?

She would see him again, wrapped up in flowers and the people who knew and loved him.

And then the dirge would play. . .

3: Story 3: Leave Me Alone

The dirge had come to an end.

Minutes ago.

Hours ago.

A life time ago, it seemed.

She felt empty, like everything in her life had been stripped from her.

Her brother touched her shoulder, a fruitless attempt at gaining her attention. "Are you okay?" He asked, his near inaudible voice holding a point of worry. He paused, waiting. Waiting for her to look up and tell him that she would be fine. Waiting for her to turn and hug him, to say that she just needed a day or two to collect her thoughts and emotions.

She remained silent, one tear after another dripping down to her reddened cheeks.

"Leave me alone," she whispered, her words wavering. "Leave me alone, please."

She gazed down at the stone, the words inscribed onto its surface blurred in her vision. Her love's parents stood around the stone, some kneeling, others unmoving in silent grief.

"This shouldn't have happened."

"The boy was too sweet."

"Whoever shoved that can down his throat deserves to burn in the depths of hell!"

She squeezed her hands together, remembering the words that had been written in his own blood. "Stay away from her," they had said.

Did she...

Was it her fault that he had been killed so brutally?

Was it his?

She didn't know if she wanted to believe either option. It was just someone else's mistake. They thought he was someone else. Yeah, that's all... That's all...

No.

She didn't want to believe that either.

She didn't want his death to be some accident that shouldn't have happened. She didn't want him to have died because someone else didn't want her to be around him. She didn't want his death to have happened because he had said something to his killer the day before, something that had hurt the guy to the point of uncontrolled rage.

If it was one of those reasons...

She wouldn't know what to think.

Her mind was already swollen from her numbing experience.

"I'm not going to leave you alone," her brother responded after a long pause, his hand still on her shoulder. "Nobody deserves to be alone."

Nobody deserves to be alone.

Nobody should be alone.

And yet... he's alone. He was alone, bleeding to death.

"Who had he been able to turn to in his dying moment...?" She murmured, looking up at him.

He shook his head, closing his eyes.

"He might have been physically alone, but he had you with him. He was lucky to have you there by his side, even though you were halfway across the town." He opened his eyes, forcing the smallest of smiles onto his lips, "But you know, he's not any more alone now as he had been then. He's resting now, with some of his family.

"You needn't worry anymore."

4: Story 4: The Floating Feather

It floated down so peacefully, twirling in the breeze as it made a steady progress to the floor. The feather... it seemed so graceful, so free.

She wished she could be free. But she was chained down, caged within her heart to never escape again. She didn't think she would ever be released from her bindings, either.

And it wasn't his fault that she kept herself that way, that she kept herself secluded from the world and the kind words her brother shared with her.

She knew that until she found out who had done that to him, she would never be able to conquer her emotions and continue life as she should have done a week ago. Her brother knew this, she had told it to him many times. His reply still bounded in her head, painfully. The words tried to kill her memories, tried to make her forget her feelings.

"Come on, don't be so down. You just make it so the pendulum of regret and ruin comes back to you, touching your heart and bringing back those moments. Try and keep that pendulum at bay, so that it doesn't continue its back and forth cycle within you. Try and be happy – there are other people in your life who love you just as much as he did and does. You shouldn't give up hope, not so easily.

"Besides, the police are searching. They think they've found a clue as to who the killer is. Use that fact to help you lift your spirits. You're strong"

Slowly, she lifted the feather from the floor and dropped it one again, watching it as it fluttered back to the ground for the twentieth time.

The police thought they had a suspect for the crime.

The person who had shoved the can down his throat... would be found soon then, right?

For some reason she wasn't sure.

For some reason, she didn't know if she could believe that they could ever find a person that fast.

Because surly, the person had cleaned their hand prints.

Right?

Or was it an enraged murder, and that message was supposed to go to someone else?

She shook her head – there was no reason for her to piece everything together. The police were doing that for her, to relieve the heartache.

But the wait... it was killing her. The longing for knowledge, the longing for peace... it ate away at her, swallowing her insides and creating something hallow within.

There was a knock on her door.

She remained silent.

Another knock.

"Am I allowed in?" Her brother asked, leaning his head against the door, awaiting her quiet answer.

"No."

She heard him sigh and pull away from the dark colored wood. It was easy to picture him placing his hands on his hips, giving her door a stare. One filled with an undying amount of patience and worry.

"I'll leave, then," he said, pulling his lips into a thin line. "If you need anything, just call. I still love you, you know. I don't want you to keep pushing me away. I know it's hard. I shouldn't have let you see him like that. I just thought... that it would hurt more to hear the truth and then to see it than to just see it. I can understand if you blame me."

His footsteps echoed down the hall.

Her brother had it all wrong.

He wasn't to blame.

She picked up the feather again and let it go.

5: Story 5: Leaving An Empty Shell

 

Her phone buzzed.

The police are coming over tonight for an interrogation. Please be back by 5.

-Lucien-

she stated down at her brother's text, swiveling back and forth in her chair. The guy hadn't started texting her messages until just recently, when she stopped answering his calls. She couldn't stand talking to him; it made her feel guilty, pathetic.

Her phone buzzed again, startling her.

Adelyn, please, listen to me. Come out of your shell, allow someone else to love you. Don't come back home without the news that you are making a new friend. I'm sick and tired of seeing you frown. Do this, please. Make me feel like my efforts are worth it.

-Lucien-

"Is that your boyfriend?"

She jumped in her chair, turning around to see the person who had spoken.

It was a girl, no older than she was.

Regaining her sullen composure, she shook her head, replying with great hesitation. "N-no. He's my brother." She looked at her hands, squeezing them together. She wished it was him who had been texting her. That would make her day - no, her life - that much better.

"Oh, sorry for intruding," the girl said, twisting her hips from side to side, a blush forming on her cheeks. "I shouldn't have read the messages."

Adelyn nodded, hunching her shoulders slightly. Nervousness bubbled up inside of her, and she wished the girl would go away.

But her wish wasn't granted.

She sat down next to her on the joined chair, staring intently at her. "I always see you here. Are you waiting for someone?"

Adelyn shook her head.

"Why do you-?"

"I-It's nothing, really," she blurted suddenly, jerking her head down to hide her face.

The girl grew silence, and for a short moment she thought that she had chased her away. Another person gone from her life. How much more could her heart take? She didn't know.

She didn't want to know.

She wasn't sure that she wanted to find out her limits. It was already hard enough, with him gone from his life, his passing moments leaving him as his jaw was broken apart by a can and as his blood drained from his neck...

"Hey, is something wrong?" The girl asked.

Adelyn shook her head.

"Well, my name's Kayla. It was nice meeting you. And I hope you can solve the case."

She jerked, looking up at the girl as she walked away.

How much had she read?

6: Story 6: Black and White

Her brother put an arm around her, squeezing her tightly. The room's warmth felt nonexistant, the house more a void than a living space. She gave in to his presence and let her head fall to his shoulder. 

Everything felt black and white. There was no color in life, only two men sitting in front of her with clipboards and cameras. Everything else was an unobtainable blur, far away, out of reach. Inaudible. 

Thier eyes flickerd back and forth between her and Lucien, reading their eyes, judging their postures. Even with thier presense filling up the couch, the room seemed to be getting emptier. The cat which laid on her lap held no weight, bare bones and skin. The lampshade which dimmed the bright, artificial light seemed to be degrading, growing less and less as the hour long seconds passed. 

"So, Lucien, was it?" One of them spoke, their words jarring her, they were so loud. Couldn't the world just be silent, just for her? Or was its one goal based around her absolute torture. Her brother nodded, urging them on. 

Even her brother was against her. 

"We've been gathering the facts and we're putting you as our main suspect."

Her brother's fingers dug into her shoulder, but she refused to wince. 

Her brother? 

She glanced up at him, took him in. His eyes looked... hurt. 

He shook his head. "I would never do such a thing," he whispered, his words stronger than his voice suggested. 

She believe him. Believed him with all her heart. All her brother had done throughout her whole life was bring her out of the dirt and make sure she held a smile on her lips, even when life dared to tear her down. 

"Data tells against those words, sir."

The other man nodded. "Why were you there when the death supposedly happened?"

"I wasn't," he stated strongly, positively. "The store manager called the most recent contact on his phone, which was me. I arrived after hearing the news, as I told you before."

She pictured the scene once again in her head, seeing her love's form bleeding and broken in the store. She imagined the worker coming out, gasping and freezing when he saw the sight, then running over and grabbing the phone from his pocket. 

"Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'm calling the EMS right now. Hang in there. Hang in there. You'll be fine."

"Help is on the way."

The man would call the magic number that brought help straight to your doorstep, then flip through the phone's contacts, searching for the most recently called. She couldn't imagine why her brother would be the last person who He had called, even though everything else was just so relatable.

"Why were you talking to Mr. Ciarbre?"

Lucien smiled, sadly, lovingly. "He was wondering what he could get Adelyn, and thought I would be the person to ask. I think that was the first time I had ever talked to him directly. He's a really sweet guy and I'm glad he chose my sister. She needs someone like him."

The two looked at each other, sharing glances too brief for her to pick out. 

"Well, we better go now. I hope you are well, Ms. Adelyn."

And she watched them leave.

She glanced up at her brother again, looking into his eyes once more. No relief flashed into his eyes, and his shoulders hadn't stiffened up the way they usually do when he's nervous. She had every right to believe him.

He was her rainbow right then. Her beam of light.

With him by her side, maybe she could cope until the end.

With him by her side, nothing was black and white.

And that was a realization she would never hide from herself.

There is always a person who will be your rainbow, your beakon of hope.

Even if it is just your older brother.

7: Story 7: Swirling In Thought

She kicked at the water, twirling gently within it. It was cold, sending bumps across her legs and making her shiver. Light cascaded down around her, filtering through the tree leaves above. The colored pebbles which laid on the river bed played at her feet, digging into her skin and making her trip.

She didn't mind.

The open air was something she needed.

Away from her brother, away from her rainbow.

Thoughts swirled around her like the water at her knees, a current that should have been a torrent, as rain had fallen heavily on top of her during the interrogation. Rain made of truths, lies, and the cruel suspicions of the police.

Her brother the killer, she couldn't wrap that around her mind.

They were wrong, to assume such a thing.

Her brother was a light every sore soul welcomes. He was not a killer. And definitely not to Kenneth. Kenneth Ciarbre.

They both loved him, not just her. It would be impossible for her brother to even think of doing such things to him.

"He's such a sweet guy," he had always said. It made her happy to know that the person she loved was approved by her brother, and how he didn't have a jealous act like most brother's do, where they try to be possessive over their little sister. She loved that about him.

And the time they both learned about how he had to move to say his last words to his mother, they had both cried and asked him to stay. Inside, at least. They wanted him to go, make his mother happy.

But it meant that he and her would never be able to date again.

For a long time, anyways.

It were those memories that made her know that her brother did not, could not, have done such a crime.

Though she wondered, how his mother was faring.

Had she heard of the death? Was she running back to see his precious son's grave? Say last words to him?

She twirled about in the water once again, cupping her hands under the liquid crystal and flung it into the air. It burst into a wonderful spray, misting her as the droplets fell back to join the rest of its continuously moving body.

She was swirling like the river, lost in thought as it was lost in glittering peace.

8: Story 8: The Invading Past

It was then that her past came to haunt her.

The sky seemed to darken, sending shadows into the school to collect in the corners.

Somebody poked their head through the glass doors, the ones she wished would shatter on her and end her small spot of an existence, and gazed around the small room with their brown eyes. He bit his lip in uncertainty when he saw that she was the only one in the college's lobby before stepping in.

She felt the air close in around her.

Those brown eyes - she recognized them.

She couldn't remember why, but she did.

His feet carried him over to her. "Where's the library? I'm afraid I'm lost."

She jumped at the sound of his voice. That was something she didn't remember, something she knew somewhere back in her mind that she didn't want to remember.

"Uh... You're on the wrong side of campus," she stuttered out, watching him wearily.

He sighed, shaking his head and giving a nearly mute chuckle. "Figures. I'm directionally challenged, just like my old friend used to say."

She flinched, the memories starting to float in.

Florrey. His name was Florrey.

She couldn't believe he thought of her as a friend, when she was more like a play thing for him. Why did he have to invade her life again?

She swallowed. "It's across from the arts building," she quickly continued, hoping he would leave before he, too, recognized her.

"If you talk to any of them again, these won't be hovering any longer," he growled, shaking the scissors in front of her throat.

"Hey, you know, you look familiar," he stated after a long pause, his feet planting themselves one a few feet away from the bench she sat at with her binders and phone.

It buzzed, and she jumped once again. She quickly glanced down at the phone, greatly relieved to see her brother's message. Maybe he would leave and realize she was busy, and that maybe he had the wrong person.

Adelyn, the police say that they found some fingerprints in with mine and the store worker's, it said, they're coming for dinner again. Please, be home by 5, and make sure to come with news that you've made a friend. Please? Listen to your brother now, I love you and want you to find somebody who you can love too. Kenneth doesn't want you to wait till death does you part from the world to love another being. Make sense?

-Love, Lucien. Your brother, as you seem to have forgotten-

"Ah, I remember now. You're Adelyn!"

It was then that her past really was about to haunt her.

9: Story 9: Warmth

Lucien's shoulder pressed up against hers, his warmth seeping soothingly into her skin. Wearily, she rested his head against his, squeezing at his hand. That day was too much. Too much. Her head was spinning and her flesh was covered in small bumps.

She couldn't believe that Florrey had found her there, after all of those years. Ten years, to be exact.

Shivers ran down her spine and she tried to take comfort in her brother's presence.

Florrey. Florrey.

He had threatened to kill her so many times... and for the trivial things: like talking with the other students in their class. She remembered the scenes vividly, and they swirled in her mind, making her insides cold and scared.

She flinched when her brother shifted, turning slightly to look at her. Concern laid heavily in his eyes, but he remained patient. "When you're ready, tell me what happened?" He whispered, voice low and soothing. She nodded and looked back down at her hands.

"Florrey."

Her brother jumped, just slightly, when he heard her voice and the word she murmured for him to hear. He forced his muscles to relax and soon she found his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

"Our memories always come back to haunt us, don't they?" He gave his head a single, minute shake.

She glanced up at him, his words bounding inside her head. What did... what did he mean by that?

"Adelyn, I think tonight we're going to find the killer, when the police come. Focus your mind on that, push your memories of Florrey away. He won't threaten you anymore, not with me by your side. Just keep your eyes forward, don't look back. Push through the haze of night and find the light of day. Don't let anything hold you back, don't let anything change you. You're my sister, and I know a sister of mine can do anything."

He smiled, brushing at her hair.

There was a knock at the door and he stood up, taking his warmth with him.

And once again the world and the room grew cold and colorless.

Had he just hinted... that he was the one who killed Kenneth?

10: Story 10: Loyalty

A truly loyal person will stand by your side in even the toughest positions. But to her she wasn't sure if the one person who has been by her side for the longest of times, it seemed, was truly loyal to her.

She watched as the police came in, the cat padding in front of their feet as they tried to make it over to the living room, her brother leading them through the house.

They had found more fingerprints on the body, her brother had said. But those words settled down in the pit of her gut like a brick. Heavy and unwanted. It all felt surreal. She didn't know how to explain it, but that's what everything was. Surreal.

They lowered themselves into the chairs, their movements slow and deliberate.

We have some good and bad news for you.

There were three sets of fingerprints scattered across the can's surface, and only two on the knife's hilt.

The good news: Lucien, you are no longer a suspect.

The bad: We can't identify the other handprints.

But, there's more. We found that the blood on Mr. Ciarbre's shirt wasn't his. It was someone else's. We've searched into it, and we've found that the blood belongs to. . .

"Florrey Houston."

She flinched, the name raking her like a cat's claw.

By the looks on your faces, you know who that is, don't you?

Her brother's lips pulled together. "Yeah. He... abused my sister a few years back," he said, voice tight. Swarming with both disbelief and belief. They were both confused.

Florrey. Florrey. How had he known? How had he known that she and Kenneth were in a relationship?

How had he found her?

She looked over at her brother, regret flooding her for her past thoughts.

He wasn't a suspect.

She was wrong to think of him as unloyal. She had no right to allow such a thing to break into her thoughts.

He was the most loyal person she could ever ask for.

Her brother...

What would she do without him?

11: Story 11: Forever Remaining

She rested her hand against the glass doors, staring into the college's lobby. Her brother was no longer a suspect. The thought flooded her mind, but for some reason, the doubt still remained. 

The words he had said to her... It just didn't fit the picture. It sent her head spinning and she rested it against the smoothe, clear surface. It's chill shifted to her forehead, calming the fever.

Maybe she was thinking too much into it. Yeah. Yeah. That's what it was. 

But yet, her doubts still remained. 

She opened her eyes and peered into the lobby. This time she could see through the sun's glint on the window. Somebody moved about inside. Two somebodies. 

She hesitated, watching as they took her favorite table. Letting out a sigh she brushed the fog from the door and pushed it open, slowly. They looked toward her in unison, making her flinch. 

Florrey and... that girl she had met before. 

They had sat together, looking as if they were chatting with one another. The girl turned away and touched his cheek, whispering something into his ear before standing up and coming over, a cheery smile on her face.

"Who are you waiting for today?" She asked, eyes sparkling innocently.

Adelyn looked down at her feet, giving her shoulders the smallest of shrugs. She suddenly felt distrust welling up within her. Her eyes flickered over to Florrey, who's face had hardened into cold stone. He was still just as protective over her, as always. He didn't like that she was talking to another person.

She swallowed at the thought, trying to divert her gaze from his dark stare.

"Is Lucien going to show up?"

She jumped, jerking her head to the side. H-h-how did... she know her brother's name?

"N-no," she stuttered out a reply, shrinking backward slightly. She didn't know what to think or do. Her distrust still remained, and it seemed to be growing, forcing her previous doubts from her mind.

"Ah. Good. Now, come here. I want to talk to you. I feel like I need to explain something."

I bet you found Florrey here's blood on Kenneth's shirt. Kenneth wasn't the one who did it, even though he loves you.

It was me. I cut him, see, and used his blood to write the message.

I just... want to see you two together. I'm sorry.

I know now that I've made a mistake. 

And I truly regret it.

My regrets will forever remain. They will torture me and haunt me. 

Especially for what I have done just now.

Go home, Adelyn. Your brother has something to tell you.

I'm sorry.

Just remember what I told you.

My regrets will forever remain.

Do what you please with me.

And....

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Her words echoed in Adelyn's head, forever remaining.

12: Story 12: They Faded Before My Eyes

It pressed down on her, heavily, choking her. She couldn't breath as she stared into her eyes. Kayla's eyes... they welled.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. But she was no longer there to hear her words.

She threw the glass open and ran out into the cold sunlight.

Away from them.

Away from their guilty pleas.

Away from the truth.

Why!?

Why?

Why...?

Why did you let Him Fade Before My Eyes?

She sobbed, tears leaking down her cheeks and dripping to the sidewalk. She ran, she ran, she ran, away from the girl she though she might have become friends with, even though they had only met once. She remembered talking about her with her brother, for just a moment. But Kayla... she... was... the one who killed Him!

She forced the door to her home open, but a dizzying smell hit her with full force. And she nearly fell to her knees. 

Her brother sat upon a chair, head hanging over the back, his arms resting at his side. His eyes were closed, his face pale.

Drip.

She lowered her gaze, her breath catching in her throat. 

Drip.

"B-brother...?" The tears came faster when he lifted his head up, just slightly. His eyes opened weakly, searching for her.

Drip...

A smile didn't make it to his face before he went limp, his head sliding over to hand once again over the back of the chair. An arm fell, swinging against the side of the leg, a finger brushing the blood that dripped down its side.

Her books fell from her hands. 

Drip. Drip.

"Lucien!"

She cried, crumbling to the floor. "Lucie, don't leave me...!"

 She buried her head into his shirt, ignoring the wet crimson.

"Lucie, Lucie... Don't go! Don't! No... D-Don't!"

No. 

He can't be gone too!

He can't.

He can't.

He said she wouldn't ever be alone.

He can't.

He can't be dead!

Not him.

Not her brother. The one person who had done so much for her. So much. So much. So much... 

Why!?

Why did life have to make both of them fade before her eyes!?

Never able to say goodbye. 

Never able to tell them how much she really loved them.

Love Lucien. Your brother, as you seem to have forgotten.

No. She never did forget.

She never would have even thought about forgetting him. 

Without him... Without him... She wouldn't have ever been able to see the light of day.

She wished he knew that.

She should have told him.

She shouldn't have let him believe such a thing.

And now. Now it's not even possible. 

She won't ever- She won't ever be able to tell him how much he meant to her.

Never.

Never.

It was too late.

I miss you, brother.