Pain, guilt, sorrow, and anger; white hot rage. That is all I have been feeling for the past six years, ever since the accident. I don't know why it was called the accident considering it wasn't one. Those boys shouldn't have been so thick-headed. I was only six years old when it happened, but I was smart enough to understand that my brother was gone, and that he had been murdered.



We had been very close, all through my life. i had loved him more than anyone, even my parents. When I lost him, I had felt helpless and bewildered. Who would have killed someone so nice? I still haven't gotten over it. My parents don't know what to do, they can't stop the unceasing tears and tantrums.



I can feel it overcoming me now. I am used to it though. It starts in my chest and climbs up my throat, burning me. It drives me crazy. My face flushes red with ire. A scream builds in my throat, and my legs become wobbly. I fall to my knees, and the scream escapes my lips. I am outside, and the cold burns in my throat as I breath hard. "Casey!" My father shouts in a rough voice. He picks me up and carries me to the car. "Lets go for a drive." I ignore him, and stare at the steadily falling snow outside my window. I press my hand against the window, and bring it to my face. The cold feels good, and it sharpens my senses.