I decide who lives or dies

            I decide who lives or dies. I decide who lives or dies.

            It throbbed in his head. It throbbed in his sleep. The weight. The responsibility. Once it had been power, intoxicating. The power of another person’s life or death, held in his hands. Mr. Raines had given him power. To hate was power. To hold a gun to another’s head and decide whether he lived or died was power. The power had become weight. I decide who lives or dies. For every person who passed, he had to decide.

            It was a weight he was ready to give up.

Protecting Jarod

           “No. I’m not going to let you do to me what you did to my brother. You—leave me alone.”

            Hidden in the alley, Sydney smiled, hearing Jarod’s voice, his words. He was proud of Jarod. He was proud of himself. He had taught him well, despite everything. Go, Jarod. Run. Find your answers.

            Then he saw Raines’ hand creep into his jacket. Time and place swirled around him. He didn’t have to see the gun in Raines’ hand to know he was going to shoot Jarod. Without thought or volition, his own gun was out, aiming, firing. Protecting Jarod.

Found and lost

            I saw them. I saw them! Suddenly I’m not so alone in the world. I have a connection. I saw her say I love you. Out there, somewhere, is a mother who loves me. A sister who has never known me.

            I lost them. I lost them! Suddenly I’m more alone than ever before. In so short a space of time I have found and lost, found and lost. The world is more empty than it once was. My world is empty. Yet the world out there is not so empty as it once was. Mother, sister. I saw them.

My big brother

           I saw him. Jarod. My big brother. My whole life has centered around him, our parents longing, searching, crying, fleeing, all for him, but I have never once seen him, until today. Funny. I have always thought of him as a little boy, the little boy in Mom’s picture, with the big dark eyes. But he’s a man, a tall man, with a strong, vital face. Only the eyes are the same. I would recognize the eyes anywhere. And yet they’re not the same. I have never seen such hurt eyes. They haunt me, possess me. Jarod. My big brother.