The gleaming moon was full and the light illuminated the clouds flowing through the crisp black night sky. The chime of an alarm ticked as the front door opened, followed by my brother's footsteps running outside to meet the person walking up the cobblestone path. A bottle of vodka sat invitingly on the counter, but no one drank it. No one could forget what happened. Hours passed by and the night plunged deeper into an abyss of darkness. The neighbors lights are out now...they are sleeping softly, but not me. I clutched my blanket and sat at the kitchen counter afraid to move or blink. My mom and Uncle were talking, but the words are blurry to me now. I can hear her crying. Oh, how I hate to see a strong woman like her cry. The warmth from the soft fraying wool could not keep me warm. I felt lost. I feel lost. I picked myself up and shuffled downstairs to find my brother. We sat alone in silence. I remember the tears falling down his face, revealing the innocence hid under his muscular facade. He was lost too. "Do you think he was in pain?" and he began to weep into his sweatshirt. The thick cotton fibers concealed our whimpers. We didn't want mom to hear us cry.