Why This room, it wasn't my room, or my kid brother's. This room had a tainted green wallpaper, with floral patterns of darker green. The room was quite small, maybe the size of a small shed. It smelled of dust and cleaning materials. The floors were wooden an seemed to have darker spots, kind of like stains. There was a bed, with only a mattress and pillow. There was a closet next to the bedroom door. This room, it had a strange vibe to it. My brother and I, we're in this room. I wasn't sure how we got here. We searched the room for something, that was another thing I wasn't sure of. This whole scene was confusing. As the squeaky noises of a car braking and coming to a stop, I assume it is the person that lives here. I feel terrified. My hands shake as I tell my brother to hide. We aren't welcome here. I hide under the bed, though I didn't see where my brother went, maybe In the closet? I tremble in fear as i go further into the darkness under the bed. I hear footsteps approach, they sounded heavy. I see the bedroom door open, while a pair of black dress shoes step into the room. He walks toward the closet, I stop breathing for a moment. Only In fear of him discovering my brother in the closet. Then it happens, the man, I hear him grab my brother and throw him onto the floor. My brother begging and pleading to let him live. He's only 16. I, 17. I scream, " stop!" I crawl from under the bed and grab my brother. With my hand in front of me, begging the man to just let us leave. He pulls my brother away from me by his leg, then carries him by his shirt. I looked at my brothers shirt, it was his favorite shirt, His favorite Flannel too. As the man held my brother up, he said something directed towards me, and I'll never forget hat he said. "You're worthless. You can't even save your little brother. You're supposed to be save him." My eyes seems as if I had widen them, I cry. The tears, they seem to be never ending. This moment felt like a #lifetime. The man chuckled and pulled out a knife. All I could do was corner myself and cry. I pleaded. Over and over again I said, "please! no! Take me! Not my brother!" I watched this man slit my little brothers throat. He killed him, a If he had done it a million times. I sobbed, repeatedly saying, "NO!! Why him! Why did you take him away from me!" I saw my brother grab his throat and drop to his knees, choking on his own blood. I could see the fear In his eyes. The man sat on the bed cleaning his knife. I cover my mouth, so shocked I can't barely move. My brother, his blood, it was everywhere. It stained his shirt. He fell to the floor. Blood still spilling out of his neck like a water fountain. His blood reached my feet. I looked at the man in terror, "why" The man smirked, "it's your turn." He grabbed me by my hair and I closed my eyes. Waiting, for when I'd be dead. I woke up crying and pleading "no!"