Shin put his black hood up, in an attempt to hide his newly dyed black hair. His green eyes shone bright through the thick layers of bangs that he used to conceal his face. He wasn’t beautiful, but his rough features gave him an edge. He had gotten into another fight at school and his eye was slightly swollen with a few bruises and scrapes.

The bus made a sudden stop, as he glanced out the battered and cracked window. He grabbed his beat-up book bag off of the crumb-infested floor. Getting out of the blue tinted seat, he trudged out of the bus, not bothering to smirk at the jocks that tripped him on his way off.

He hadn’t cared about much since Glen passed away –or since he went brain-dead. His mom and he didn’t expect him to die at such a young age, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t possible.

He walked quickly towards his house; it was beginning to rain, but he slowed down when his two-story villa came into view. Its sloping figure and vine covered walls brought him little relief. His mother was a stressed out wreck and when she was worried nothing worked out. That’s how it was the day Glen died. But his mom also refused to let go of anything. She was a hoarder of simple things. Like his brother, Glen.

He sighed and made his way up the steps to the small sidewalk. Leaves crunched underneath his weight as he steadied himself on the large and smooth stones that cluttered the deep green grass. He glanced once more at the large house that towered over him. He took a deep breath before entering the house. The familiar smells of hot cocoa and the pleasant aroma of fall greeted him as he stepped inside. His now-wet jeans and black hoodie laid plastered against his skin. He only imagined of how wet his black t-shirt and converse were. He slipped his shoes off and crept up the stairs avoiding all contact with his small family. His dad had died in a car accident five months prior and he knew his mother would be mad at him for dying his hair black. She always said that he looked so much like him.

“Forgetting something?” His mother’s shrill voice bit his ears as he opened his room door. She caught him.

“What could I –be forgetting?” his deep voice held annoyance as he kept his back to her.

“You haven’t said hello to Glen since you’ve come home.” She folded her thin arms across her chest. Her auburn hair was askew as she sighed pushing it back behind her ears again. It held several gray hairs even though she was only thirty-six.

“It’s not so easy to speak to the dead.” he said calmly before walking into his small room. Pictures scattered the room of Glen and Shin together. A specific one sat next to his blue bed on the night stand. Glen was fast asleep in his hospital bed as Shin sat beside him holding his hand –praying.

His mother sighed before entering his room. Her soft blue eyes held bags underneath them with wrinkles and hardly visible dimples that told of how she used to smile. She watched Shin as he began taking his black hoodie off, he had forgotten about his hair.

“Shin –I told you not to dye your hair! You looked so much like your father.” Her small hand covered her mouth as her other hand grasped her wrinkled, blue shirt.

“Well maybe I didn’t want to be reminded of him when I looked in the mirror everyday!” His hands began to clench at his sides making fists, “and don’t get me started on how I feel when I wake up with that thing staring at me!” He pointed a stern finger at Glen whose lifeless eyes watched them from across the hall.

“Don’t say that! He’s your brother-“

“How dare you –even utter the words!” he began pushing her out of the room, “my brother is dead!” he yelled at her as he slammed the door shut.

He heard his mother fall to the ground and begin to weep as he felt the need to do the same. “Why did you leave me?” he whispered into his hands as he felt the cool tears run down his cheeks. He buried himself in his pillow before falling fast asleep.

He was awakened by the soft tapping on his door; he glanced at his clock on the wall 2:30. He sighed then slowly got up and cracked it open. Glen stood outside, his face a blank canvas, completely emotionless. His blonde hair rested in curls upon his small head. His eyes were identical to Shin’s; as his striped, blue pajamas were askew. His head tilted slightly upward as if waiting for Shin to pick him up and carry him back to bed.

Shin flinched as his arms almost flew forward to pick him up. It was hard not to, when he was alive, Glen would do the same thing. Instead Shin took his hand and led him back to his room, tucking him into bed. He thought of how his mother must have felt the night he passed away. She left the room to ask the doctors questions just before he died. He stayed and held his hand hoping, that just maybe, his little brother would survive. Shin did the same thing in his room. He just held his hand as Glen stared blankly into the air. Searching for something, but he didn’t know what.

Seconds before Glen passed away he told Shin to not let Mom hold onto his body. And Shin felt obligated to do just that, but he understood how his mother felt and she wouldn’t believe him either way.

He got up minutes later, taking one more glance at his brother before closing the door shut. Walking towards his room he looked back to see his mom entering Glen’s room. He quickly looked away, doing his best not to relive the painful memories. Of the boy that died, across from him.