I regretted everything. I regretted the countless fights. The countless names I called him. The pranks. Everything. My brother Will and I would constantly argue over dumb things. I’d always tell him I wish he were dead. Gone. But now I wanted more than anything for him to be in my arms.
I was chasing a man. A man who had stolen my brother and was getting farther and farther away with the person that meant the most to me.
One minute I told my brother to wait outside the deli while I got candy and the next I heard his 8-year-old voice screaming my name. My head jerked around just in time to see the man dash around the corner with Will. “WILL!” I had screeched and darted out of the deli. My loose coins pounded the counter and as I left the store the bell above the door rung furiously.
The rough concrete tore at the bottoms of my sneakers as I ran faster and faster, gaining on the monster who stole Will. After three blocks of vigorous chasing he took an unexpected, sharp left turn down a side street. I heard random yells of bystanders who had realized what was going on and ran after to help.
He ripped open the driver’s seat door and tossed Will inside like it meant nothing to him. It meant the world to me. He slammed the door shut and locked the doors. He turned on the engine and started away. I couldn’t believe it.
A man came up behind me and I heard him breathing heavily. He put my hand on my shoulder. “Wow,” was all he had to say.
It was all my fault. Will was gone. I couldn’t possibly track the guy down because I hadn’t gotten the license plate number. It was my fault for making him stay outside the deli. I heard a ringing in my ears and an unbearable buzzing in my head. I dropped to the sidewalk and just remember seeing darkness. He was gone.
Age 13, Grade 8,
Mark Twain I.S. 239 for the Gifted and Talented