there he was... his own brother, standing right in front of him. he clenched the knife in his hand, ready to strike. yet... something wouldn't let him. was it his sanity? was it his conscience? no... it was his heart. this was his brother. his own blood brother. the person that he had known since the day he was born... and he was about to MURDER him????!!!! he took a few steps back and retreated to his room. his brother had never found out how close to death he truly was.

he sat on his bed and dropped the knife on the floor. he knew he was losing his sanity. no, he wouldn't let that happen. he could keep his head together, he had to. he sat and waited to calm down.

months passed by, the child slowly grew and depressed. he talked less and less every day till the days came that he didn't talk at all. then one day the day came that he had to leave that home. he felt nothing to this change. he simply packed his things and readied to leave, not knowing what kind of hell awaited him in his next home. he left without worry, he left without a word. and entered a worse hell than he was in