By Caroline 

Warning Ė DMC.   


ďIím sorry.  Heís gone.Ē 

Heíd been lying so still for over a week that it was almost hard to tell the difference.  Except that Iíd seen the last breath leave his lips.  That moment, between one breath and the next just hung there.  I want to believe that Sam is wrong, but my eyes tell me what my heart wonít accept.

ďAt least it was peaceful.Ē

Hell, Doc, is that supposed to make us feel better?  My brotherís dead and right now it donít matter to me how it happened.  If my throat werenít so tight Iíd say something.  Then again itís probably best that I canít.  It ainít Samís fault after all.  He did all he could. 

Teresaís crying.  Someone should comfort her.  Sheís seen too much death. Why canít I move?  Scott deserves better than this.  And, it wasnít supposed to be this way.  ĎYouíll be dead before youíre thirtyí.  Do you remember saying that to me, Brother?  Never thought it would be you who didnít make it to your thirtieth birthday.

Dios!  Murdoch looks old and tired.  It ainít right that a parent should have to watch their child die.  I need to get out of here, get some air and clear my head.  Thereís a lot to do and Murdoch donít look like heís got the strength to do it.

ďAre you alright, Son?Ē

No, Iím not alright!  ďYeah, Murdoch.  Iíll be fine.  You stay with him and Iíll tell Cipriano and the men.Ē  I hope that sounded convincing.  The old man donít need to see me fall apart.

Damn, itís getting hard to see.  My eyesightís gone all blurry.  Why canít I stop shaking?  Why did he have to die?  Too many damn questions. Iím gonna miss you, Scott.  Iím gonna miss my brother.



Jan 08


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