They were at the park. It started to snow. They knew about the blizzard but had chosen to ignore it. His brother was two years older than him. He received the family mustang before Erik could even drive.
“Hey, I’ll get the car,” John said.”You wait here.”
“Ok.” said Erik.
Erik waited. His brother didn’t return. The snow fell faster. He went to the parking lot, the car was gone. His brother left him there in the blizzard. He walked the ten miles home when he realised there was no mustang. The driveway was empty of any car besides his mother’s. At first he thought his brother might’ve gotten in a car accident. Then it dawned on him as he remembered the sudden outburst against their parents. He had driven away. He resented his brother for it.

He strolled the street leisurely. Older now but with the memory fresh as the new puddle. The red and white paint of the mustang looked like it was dripping as the rain washed over it’s sleek body. It was locked.
Damn, he thought.
He got out the lock pick he had. He got in the car. It was stick shift. He could do stick shift. Then the key fell out of the sun visor. He started the car and started to back out. As gleeful as he could be, he drove away in the storm. Out of his elation he didn’t realise the tree the windstorm had knocked down a hundred feet in front of him. He was testing speeds on the car when he swerved. He smashed into the tree. The car crashed on the side and rolled onto the roof. The car Lit up in flame after the fabric inside caught fire from the liter.
He then realised the registration that caught fire.
Not his brother.