It was two o'clock in the morning Wednesday September 21, 2016. I woke up to the music from my favorite movie Hairspray. Out of nowhere I heard the front door open and close, thinking It was my step dad going to work I layed back onto my warm pillow and acted like it was nothing. A few moments later I heard a scream coming from my parents room. I ran to their door only to discover both my parents along with my baby brother’s throats have been slit. Both of my parents were dead but my brother was still trying to breath. I grabbed my brother and the car keys. I went outside and started the car even though i was only thirteen I started driving without hesitation. I dialed 911 and explained what happened. On the way to the hospital all I could think is how could someone do something like this to a child so young. He doesn’t even understand what is happening all he knows is that it hurts to breathe. Something he has been doing all his life is now the very thing killing him. It hurts so bad to even imagine how much pain he is in. His pain kills me, since the moment I first saw him I have done everything I can to keep him from even the tiniest amount of pain. It kills me to say this but I didn’t get to the hospital in time. I killed him because I could have done something about it, I could have stopped the killer by being the first person he saw. I could have saved him and my parents but I didn’t. I killed my family.