My best friend told me to keep a diary, something about it helping me after my brother’s death. I don’t even care that he died. Everyone acts like I should, but I don’t. It sounds bad, but I don’t care. He never cared about me anyways.
Today was my brothers one week death day anniversary. Woopee. My mom is crying and my dad started drinking again. My older sister pulled me into her room and asked me what was wrong. I suppose it was something like ‘sisters have to stick together’ or whatever. I bet she likes my dead brother more than me anyway.
Today, somebody broke into my house late at night. He crept into my room with a knife. I felt fear grip my chest tightly. My whole life was on the line, and I was going to be murdered, just like my brother was. I saw him raise up his knife and gaze at its reflection. I felt paralyzed, frozen with shock. Then out of nowhere, and I know that I’m going to sound crazy, I saw my brother push the intruder out of my bedroom video, then vanish. I felt overwhelmed as my parents came crashing into my room. They begged me for answers, but all they knew was that there was an intruder, and I survived. Nobody knew that my brother is my Guardian, and will forever protect me. I guess it’s our little secret.