This isn’t what I wanted.

When I wished that my brother would disappear, I didn’t mean like this.

Bloody stairs. Bloody hands.

A guilty conscience.

He slipped. Didn’t he? Yes, he did.

I just wanted him to make a mistake. Run away, or something. Miss his “prestigious” Harvard start date. Be less perfect.

But he was always doing something good. He never messed up. Did I push him? 

But, even in death, I know they’ll immortalize him. Maybe start some stupid scholarship.

I just wanted him to do something wrong.

I didn’t want this. I never wanted this.

But, didn’t I?