Everything could've been fine. I could've stopped myself. I know I've still got you. To say I'm sorry would never cover the trauma. I'd hold you closer if I could. I know it should've been me to love you. I do now. I washed your clothes that day. The red stain is gone. I think I'm cleaner now. Is there anyone looking over you? 'Look after your little brother when we're gone,' they said. 'Don't let a bullet touch him,' they joked. I smiled. The gun's been thrown away, but the bullet was fired. Oh, the irony, my little brother.
by © Jemma Mo (15)
Wood Green School, Oxfordshire
Competition - Mini Monologues
Copyright remains with the author.