The fight is over. I won.  He’s crouching in the corner of the bedroom, trembling with noticeable fear.  My eyes, that were flamed in rage only minutes ago, fill with tears.  My hands become sweaty on the gun as I realize with a pang what I’m about to do.  Murder the man who’s haunted my dreams for the past thirteen years.  His eyes, I find in the darkness, look at me in plead.

He interrupts the intensity of our glare.  “ Why are you doing this?”  He whispers.
His question echos in my mind.  He wants to know why…Do I even know why?  Ahh…focus, whispers the voice inside me. Taking a breath, Dylan’s voice invades my thoughts.

“No matter what Dad says, you’ll always be my little princess.”  When my father had his drunken fits Dylan would repeat that line.  I can still feel the warmth of his words, his presence.  I was six, but I remember him, he was my world.  “We only need each other,” he would say. When I looked into his charming green eyes, I knew he was right.   We were inseparable.

Until, Dad had gotten worse and started to forget we even existed.  He wasted his days in front of the television with a can of beer in his hands.  Dylan stole food from the stores when needed. Multiple warnings from the sheriff led him to prison.  There, while asleep, he was stabbed to death by his cellmate.  He was only eighteen.

I remember Dad’s expression when we got the news; the day he took me to the park.

“Wait on this bench.  I’ll be back,” his low voice had told me. I remember him fading away into the setting sun, knowing he wouldn’t come back.  He didn’t.   That day, I became an orphan. All my hope and happiness died with Dylan.  I swore that my father would pay.

This in mind, adrenaline floods into me forcing my attention to the present.

“It’s me, daddy!  You must’ve known I would find you!” I answer.

His eyes grow wide. “Sue?”

I  close my eyes as I pull the trigger.  “For you, brother,” I whisper.

“Wait!” he hollers as I fire, but it’s too late.  He falls and blood spreads as soon as he hits the floor. I drop the gun in hysterics as I see him reach out to me.  I entwine his hand with mine and  squeeze it.  “I’m sorry, for everything,” he coughs, “ your mothers death changed me, Sue.  I know it’s no excuse, but it’s all I have. Years after I left you, I came to my senses.  I went searching for you.  Never stopped looking.”  He chuckles wryly, “looks like you beat me to it,”  his eyes shut.  I held him for what seemed like an eternity.

When I planned this,  it wasn’t for Dylan, but for my personal satisfaction. But I’m still alone, and I may always be, because now I’m not worth loving.  Now, I’m just a monster..