Chapter 1 the Fault in our stars.:(
Hi, my name is Oliver…Oliver Crescent and right now I’m walking home from my middle school (boringgggggg) So while I’m walking here’s some information about me. My name’s Oliver, I’m 14, I’m male(duh), I have short, fluffy, dirty blonde hair, and my family hates me… Well everyone but my little brother Micah who is three years old loves me a lot who also looks up to me as an older brother.
But you may be asking, “Oliver, why does your family hate you so much?” Well that’s simple really. It’s because my mom had an affair with her boss which got her pregnant with me. Why do they hate me and not my mom? I have no clue.
Anyway, I’m now walking down Pine Avenue, the street I live on, and I stop in front of my house with a sigh. It’s an old house with big wooden walls, a cement fence built around it, and grass that hasn’t been watered since last spring that is already turning yellow. I open the wooden door and a gasp escapes my mouth as I stare blankly inside. “ oh god,” is all I can say as I look at all the blood covering the floor and walls inside the house. “Oh my god!” I mumble again looking at my mothers dead body lying on the ground motionless as a pool of blood formed from underneath her. Sure I didn’t like her that much, but still,she didn’t deserve this. I walked over to her, almost stumbling over my feet multiple times, and.I crouch down next to her body and press my fingers to her throat …nothing. “GOD DAMNIT, WAKE UP” I yelled at her body as if she would come back to life. My throat felt raw and my head throbbed as I stared helplessly at her just lying there. Then I looked up…in the kitchen doorway was my little brother, Micah, holding his favorite stuffed animal tightly in his arms, an old bear I bought for him the day he was born. His stuffy has gray ragged fur from being well-loved and One of its eyes was replaced with a button I had sewn on after he chewed off the old eye whilst he was teething. Clasped in his hands, he collapsed on the ground with a gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead, hair drenched in his blood and clingy to his face, the hair that used to be blonde, now a grim crimson color. I stood up from my mother’s body, stumbled over him, and fell to my knees. “Micah..?” I whisper my voice soft and shaky as I cup his cheeks in my hands, his blood staining them but I don’t mind. AllI could think about is the wound in his head. I sat there sobbing as I cradled his dead body in my arms for a couple of minutes till I heard footsteps from down the hallway and a big figure appears with an object in one of its hands….
I shakily stood up and turned on a light, my hand staining the light switch a dark red and I recognised that the figure. It was my dad… Wait… Is he holding a….gun?! Oh god, is he the one who shot them? Is he the one who killed my brother? His damn son!?
