I didn’t want this, but then again, it wasn’t my choice. His body slumped next to the coffee table, which in turn glistened with his scarlet painted blood. He was dead and I was alive, a matter of luck, or being unlucky. For he fired off two rounds without result, yet he lied there, lifeless with a gash in his forehead, the blood staining the carpet, never before in my life had I even conceived such a scene. The gun drawn and pointed in my direction, a blast from the barrel preceding a deafening bang. Kicking the table forward as the second shot was being fired, I was lucky the first bullet didn’t find me, and that much more fortunate that he had started to trip on the table as he fired the second. His head hit the corner, and all I could do was watch.
It must have been minutes, just observing; a minute, in thought. My feet began to wobble and my knees trembled; the smell of the blood was overwhelming. I was hungry before, waiting for the dinner I was invited to, I worried about him, his family left, he recently lost his job; it must have been two weeks, maybe three. Empty wine bottles and charred cigar butts riddled his house, I couldn’t blame him for being angry. Things never had been well for him, but this last year he saw many good changes. He must’ve been over his head, or flying too close to the sun as the common phrase would dictate. I mean, how could he have an affair with a secretary just like that in his office. This idea was grotesque to those closest to him, who had seen him grow from a man barely able to keep a job in sanitation to being accepted in corporate America. Now he lies dead on the spongy, blood-soaked carpet. Needless to say, I no longer had an appetite.
Alas I sat down on the carpet, crossed my legs, rested my elbows on my knees. Then I planted my chin upon my exposed palms. I was shaking as I continued to stare at the lifeless body. Minutes continued to pass on, the click of the clock echoed through the house and into my mind. My thoughts went to the gun, what if it had only clicked? Peradventure we’d be sitting down at the table, enjoying roast and mashed potatoes. However this is of no matter, for it produced a bang, and only I live.
Distantly, oh how distant, the sirens wailed. That’s when the recent events fully became realized, the thoughts occurring in my mind relating to the carcass became reality.
“Oh my God!” These words left my mouth before I could comprehend words, my voice shattering with the screams of the sirens. “Oh my God!” I cried these words in hopes to soon be awake. “Oh my God!” The tears began to surface in my eyes. “Oh God!” My hands began to muffle the cries of my mouth. “My God!” I fell to the ground.
My nose burned, as I rose from the grounds and opened my eyes. I could only see white for a moment, and then the living room became focused around a flashlight.
“Who are you?” a bark in my direction. Taken by surprise I didn’t answer for I knew not who was speaking to me. “Who are you?” the voice repeated.
“I was just... I was... I just came to visit my brother.” I could finally see the man who bore the light, he was an officer of a bigger stature, his bald head shone in the light and his mustache well groomed fit the general stereotypes of my mind.
“What happened?” his voice rested into a somewhat calming tone.
“I... I had come to visit my brother, things haven’t... Things haven’t been going well for him, he was drunk, and... and he... he... he pulled a gun.” I was choking on my tears, and my heart raced in my chest, “He shot at me, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t throw anything... I was stunned, I didn’t dare run... So I kicked... I kicked the table.” I couldn’t speak, for I choked on every word that came out of my mouth.

The police officer saw this and placed his jacket over my shoulders.“Alright, well that will be good for now, is there anything I could get you? A cup of coffee maybe, or a cigarette?” I waved him away.

The flashing lights sprung around the room filled with policemen and detectives, as they gathered evidence, yet still I felt so alone. His body was gone, they must’ve brought him to a hospital, or so I hoped. Maybe there was a faint bit of life, but as I thought about it, I knew in my heart he was dead. For inside was a feeling of overwhelming guilt, my heart attempting to thrash its way out of my chest, my mind hitting the skull in likes to cannon fire. I crawled my way out of the house, the fresh morning air burned my dry lungs as I worked my way to my feet. Stumbling my way to the car, I looked around and broke into sobs once again as I looked at the neighbors and reporters shouting questions in regards to my brother.

“Hey there’s his brother!” I heard from the crowd. Then a stream of flashes came in my direction as the shutter of the cameras clicked. Then the flashes grew bigger as the crowd stampeded around me.

“What happened?”

“Where’s your brother, is he alright?”

“Are the scandal rumors true?”

“We’ve had reports of gunshots, was someone hurt?”

The questions continued to come in a constant barrage, I didn’t know what I was to do.

“We won’t be taking any questions right now.” The officer’s hand wrapped around my shoulder as he walked me to his squad car.
I finally arrived home, the officer offered to keep me company, but as I have done before I waved him away. I dragged my feet to the door and, with open palms, I hit and dragged my hand upon the door. The door opened and there they were, my family. My kids were anxious for they were being pulled away from their morning cartoons, but my wife embraced me in her arms in an comforting fashion. She knew that I didn’t want to talk about it, so she brought me to the couch and we slept side by side, while the kids sat at the foot of the couch, watching their morning spectacle.