My Brother Ryan

A Story by jessicaau

a 17 year old deals with the death of his little brother while struggling to live in the ghettos

"Run!". I heard a voice. It seem to come out of me but I'm not so sure what I'm doing. I see these arms. They're my arms because I see my snake tatto. I watch these arms that are supposeably mine and the fingers at the end of these arms grabs another arm. Suddenly, like I just emerged from the ocean, I had a sense of what is going on. I see people all around my frantically trying to get awat alive. BANG BANG went the gunshots. The hands I'm holding into was my little brother Ryan's. His short legs was trying to keep up with the rest of the world. He was always behind; school, competitions, puberty. It's okay though because I still love him. My momther is a single mother raising two kids, working three jobs and can only afford to live in the ghetto. I did all the raising though. My mom doesn't know it yet, but I practically raised her, myself and Ryan. Things were tough so our relationships were tough too. I still love them though, I still love Ryan. He's my everything and I just wished I had the chance to tell him.

We're still runing and it feels like forever but you got to run because these bullets travel at around 1600-2000 feet per second. I was scared, sweat dripping, then I felt a tug coming from Ryan. I didn't understand so I kept running, half dragging hin along. Everywhere, I hear screams. Screams from fear, pain and Ryan. Screams from Ryan. My heart stopped. I may as well be dead on the ground, seriously, it's a miracle I'm still standing and fully funtioning. I was scared to look at Ryan, but I had to. "For God's sake, you're his brother. Dude help the kid" I thought to myself. I turned my head back I don't know what I saw first, the blood or his innocent eyes staring right back at me. I picked Ryan up, carried him to an alley and froze. School doesn't teach you what to do when your little brother gets shot in the head. Heck, how would finding the square root save Ryan right now? I screamed for help but everyone was too damn busy running. Ryan whimpered and I felt hopeless, dead, angry, fireworks of emotions booming through my head. I pressed my hands against the wound to stop the bleeding while Ryan dug his nails piercing my skin. There was blood everywhere and it just seemed to flow forever. Except blood doesn't flow forever, it's got to stop at one point. I cried so many times for help but the only reply was the BANG BANG.