Dedicated to my brothers.

Michael looked at the church surveying it in shivering detail. He didn’t usually go to church, his family were not religious or anything like that, but today was different. Today was his grandmother’s funeral. He liked his grandmother, most everyone in Lowersmore did. She was a very nice woman, she looked after her family and friends more than she looked after herself. It was one of the things that she was known for. Many people said that this was what finally put the nail in the Coffin for her. She was so caring for everyone, but she neglected herself. Still, she had lived a grand total of 65 years. She had only just reached the age of retirement, but it was too late for her to recoup her pension investments. This was a sad fact. Especially for Michael, who was already looking towards his own investments, namely, his writing career.

Michael had always wanted to be a writer, ever since he was three years old. His earliest memory had been of him showing his mother a few words that he had written, well, copied would be a better description, even he would admit that. But he was young then, he was only a child after all. But now he was 12, and was almost an adult. Soon he would have his own career, soon he would be a writer, soon he would have everything that he could ever want, a big house, a cute girlfriend, and lots of money! He knew that he would have all of these things, but he just had to survive childhood first!
Mitchell, Michael’s younger brother, was holding his older siblings hand as they approach the doors of the church. Michael looked down at him and made a feeble attempt to smile. He was emotionally drained himself. Michael loved his younger brother, and Mitchell loved him back. They had an unshakeable bond, one Michael never wanted to betray. If Mitchell could not trust him, then who could he trust? They hadn’t many friends between them. But together they were a team. Together they would get through this tragedy, somehow.
“Hurry up boys!” Came a voice.
“Yes dad!” Said Michael.
“Huh?” Said Mr Richards their father.
“I was just saying that we’ll hurry up.” Replied Michael who was rather confused at his dad’s reaction.
“Who told you that you had to hurry up?” Said Mr Richards stopping in his tracks. “You’re standing right next to me boy?” Michael noticed that he was indeed standing right next to his father. Then he realised that the voice he had heard, was not that of his fathers. He knew that he had heard that voice before however. But where? “Come along or we’ll be late!” Continued Mr Richards resuming his stride. Mitchell looked at his brother. They were both very still. “Come on!” Said their father, he was growing impatient and both of the boys knew it. For some reason though Michael’s legs would not move. The chill was still shooting through his back. But eventually he managed to force his fears into the back of his head, he had to be a positive role model for his brother. He started moving once more. Michael led his little bro through the oak doors and into the church where the funeral was about to take place…

 

Copyright © Sam Shooter 2017

All Rights Reserved

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