There was blood on his hands, but it wasn't his. He hadn't meant to hurt him, but the shopkeeper's body, lifeless on the floor, was burnt into his mind. In his bag, the stolen jewelry felt heavier than his sin. His heartbeat hammered in his chest, louder than the sirens behind him as he took off down the alley, with the smell of sweat and terror clinging to him. Suddenly, blinding lights flashed all around him, flooding the night with a brilliant radiance. Like a deer frozen in headlights, the man slowly raised his hands behind his head, his mind flooded with thoughts of escape and the crushing weight of what he'd done.

  ————————————————————————————————————————————

  As I was getting ready for school, my eyes flickered from the television to my older brother, Zhao Lin, who was slouched on the couch, eyes fixed on whatever he was watching. I never understood my older brother, what was so interesting about the news? As if all the problems in the world are somehow his to solve.

  "Zhao Lin," I said, trying to get his attention, as I prepared to make my way to the bus station. Nothing. He didn't even glance up.

  "Zhao Lin," I repeated, slightly louder than the first time as I put on my shoes.

  "Shh, Zhao Feng. I'm watching the news," he mumbled, coffee in hand and his breakfast half-eaten with his eyes still cemented on that 15 inch screen.

  I sighed, crossing my arms and staring at him in frustration. He's always been like this ever since our parents passed away a few years ago in an accident. I never got the full story from him, I just know they died in a car accident. Even then, I don't understand why that made him so engrossed in what was happening in the world. He started to pay less and less attention to the things that mattered to him. Like me.

  By chance, my bus was running late, so I took the opportunity to find out what exactly was occupying my brother's attention.

  "What's so important on the news anyway?" I asked, taking off my shoes and shifting closer to the TV.

  Zhao Lin gave me a distracted glance and finally responded.

  "A 40-year old man, sentenced to life in prison," he said.

  "For murder and theft."

  I blinked. "What?" I said, trying to wrap my head around how he thinks that affects us.

  "That's it? A man murdered and stole, so he got life in prison. What's so interesting about that? Isn't that what's supposed to happen to bad guys like him?"

  Zhao Lin's gaze stayed fixated on the screen.

  "It's not just about the crime," he said, his voice a little softer now.

  "The man had two daughters."

  I frowned. "And? That isn't a justifiable excuse to commit robbery and murder, is it? Doesn't he deserve what he got?"

  Zhao Lin finally shifted his gaze towards my direction. I noticed something in his eyes—something more than just a blank stare and mere disinterest. It was…compassion? He exhaled softly, sat up on the couch, his voice, calm as he spoke.

  "You don't understand Zhao Feng. Sometimes, people don't commit crimes because they want to—they do it because they are out of options. It's not as simple as right and wrong."

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  My brother's voice was calm, but his usual demeanor was gone. Replaced by a feeling that made my chest tighten, though I don't know why.

  "But… but still, murder is murder and theft is theft. How can he think that's okay? There's always a better way right? Even if that was us… even if mom and dad didn't leave us with anything, we'd still be okay, right? We could sleep on the streets, but we'd be together, unlike that man and his family."

  My brother let out a tired laugh.

  "There is much you don't understand right now, Zhao Feng. The world isn't as—"

  "HOOOOOONK!!!"

  He was cut off by the loud bus horn of my school bus, signaling their arrival; and my tardiness.

  "Sorry, bye love you!" I said, as I made haste towards our front door and down the sidewalk to where my friends were all waiting for me aboard.

  As I made my way to my seat, my rowdy friends were all trying to get me into the conversation they were having. However, I sat in silence, my brother's words echoing in my mind.

  "It's not as simple as right and wrong."

  He always says things I don't understand, treating me like a little kid. Everytime the subject has been brought up, he refuses to say any more, like he's scared of revealing a deep secret or something. Part of me felt angry like he was brushing me off but another part felt… sad. Sad that I couldn't understand my brother, sad that he deems me unable to comprehend his thoughts.

  Zhao Lin watched as the school bus turned the corner, fading into the distance. He stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where I had just been. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he whispered to himself.

  "Enjoy your time as a kid, Feng'er. You don't need to understand right now. One day, I'll explain everything…"

  He paused, hearing a sudden knock at the front door. His jaw clenched. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. He'd been expecting them.

  The door swung open, and three men dressed in black walked in—men with cold eyes and blank expressions. The tallest of the three, drew a knife from his back pocket.

  "You know why we're here," he said.

  Zhao Lin, back against the wall, his expression calm, undeterred by the tension in the room.

  "Tell Mr. Kang to leave my brother out of this, that was our deal."

  "Very well. Let's get down to business now, shall we?"

  Their blades gleamed, poised to strike. Zhao Lin coughed, his voice rasping.

  "Feng'er, live the life I couldn't. Our parents, and now me. It seems fate really has their own agenda for us. Do what I couldn't and bring an end to this pointless strife. I love you, brother."

  A flash. A single swift motion—and the story of Zhao Lin collapsed into nothingness.

  ——————————————————————————————————————————

  The day passed by in a blur. Laughter swirled around me, but I was somewhere else. My brother's words echoed in my head like a lingering shadow, each one heavier than the last. I had heard them so many times before, yet today they felt different, as if they carried the weight of a thousand truths I had never truly understood. What was it? Why was it so different today? Was it his eyes? They weren't the same. They seemed so… tired. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  By the time the bus pulled up to my house, I couldn't wait any longer. Today is the day I get my questions answered.

  "I'm not going to let him tell me off like he usually does," I thought to myself as I skipped cheerfully up the front yard. The sun, dipping under the clouds, casting long, eerie shadows as I opened the door.

  The house was quiet. Not that it usually was noisy, with just my brother in the house. No, it was abnormally quiet. I dropped my bag by the front door, slipped into my slippers and glanced around for Zhao Lin. I would usually catch him napping in the same position on the couch as I had left in the morning. But today, there was nothing—no sound of the TV humming softly in the background, no smell of dinner being made.

  A tightness slowly spread through my chest. Something WAS wrong.

  "Zhao Lin?" I called. Nothing. The silence was almost deafening. I walked down the kitchen, my footsteps getting heavier as I got closer.

  And then I saw him.

  My brother.

  Motionless, on the ground, a crimson stain spreading from his neck to his lower abdomen, seeping into the carpet of our living room. His eyes—once so full of mystery—were empty now, staring into the ceiling as though searching for truths that slipped his grasp.

  "Zhao Lin?" I whispered, as if saying his name would wake him. But he didn't move. He didn't blink. He didn't breathe.

  He was dead.

  And my world collapsed.

  The life I had clung to, the walls that sheltered me crumpled, and the brother who had always stood between me and the darkness vanished, shattered beyond recognition.