Burning Steel

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“Don't burn down the house!” Mom shouted just as dad was pulling their car out of the driveway.

They were attending the wedding of a friend of theirs. George and I weren't interested in going, we only wanted some of the food, and mom promised to bring some for us, so why bother going? With my parents gone, it meant George and I had the house to ourselves for about five hours, we all know how long weddings took, even for the bride to arrive, it would take about an hour.

“Samantha's in charge,” Mom had said, while she was going through the list of rules we had to follow since we were going to be left alone. I don't even know why we needed those rules, we weren't five and seven anymore. I'm 17 and George is 19, perfectly old enough to take care of ourselves. Anyway, back to me being left in charge, George was furious because well he's the older one and under normal circumstances, he should be left in charge, not that it even mattered anyway.

“Why is Samantha in charge? I'm literally the adult here," George complained.

“Well, George, that's because the last time you were left in charge, we came home to a smoking microwave. If you want to be left in charge, you better start acting your age,” Mom explained.

“Come on, that's not fair. The microwave incident was just a recipe gone wrong. This doesn't even make any sense.”

“You can complain all you want, but Sam is still in charge.”

“Yes, haha,” I exclaimed triumphantly.

When they left, we waved them and locked the gate. George was already readying himself to play video games on his PlayStation. Of course, he challenged me to a round, and I couldn't resist the temptation to prove I was a better player than him by beating him. We played about four rounds of FIFA, I won three. I guess he was just in luck on the last but one round. I started to get hungry, and I had been craving KFC all week.

“Hey George, let's order KFC eh, I'm hungry.”

“Oh, no problem, sounds nice. But you're paying”.

“Excuse me, why am I paying?”

“Because, one, you suggested it and two, you're in charge, " he made air quotes around in charge and then rolled his eyes. His annoyance about it was clearly not lost on his face.

“Aww, are you jealous they put me in charge instead of you? Poor big brother,” I teased, irritating him the more.

“Whatever, just order it.”

But just then, I had another idea.

“George, why don't we drive there and eat there?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Think about it, it'll save us delivery fee. Plus, you can use this opportunity to give me another driving lesson. And besides, I'm in charge, so I decide.”

“Alright fine. But I'm only agreeing because, at least, I'd get out of this house. And because you're the one paying.”

“Great. Let's go!”

Mom left her car at home, they took my dad's car, and George had access to her car keys because he ran errands for her sometimes. I'm sure she wouldn't mind us using it, after all, it's to get food.

Our house was a bit far from the KFC branch we usually ordered from, so we had to drive quite a distance.

“George, let me take a turn now, you've been driving since we left home.”

“Kiddo, your driving still isn't that good. This is not the place.”

“Pleaseeee,” I begged. “I'll pay you?”

He always succumbed to a bribe.

“How much?”

“We can discuss that later. You know I always reward handsomely.”

He contemplated for a while and let out a defeated “Fine”. “But take your time," he added.

I squealed and we switched seats

I was still learning to drive, but I was pretty good at the wheel now. George surprisingly was a good and patient teacher.

I turned on the car stereo. Miley Cyrus' Wrecking ball was playing. We sang along, of course.

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wre-e-eck me

We screamed the lyrics. Until all of a sudden, a Nissan on the other lane overtook another car on that lane, pretty close to us. I lost focus and panicked. George tried to take over, but I had already veered off the road. My brain stopped working. I think George's senses were acting no different. Just before he finally got his hands working and tried to stop the car, we crashed into an electricity pole. None of us had our seatbelts on. My head hit the steering wheel. Georges body slammed on the headboard, releasing the airbag. The glass on the windscreen was shattered, the shards stung my skin. I couldn't move. My senses had betrayed me so painfully. I heard noises outside, or did I? I smelt smoke. I started to get dizzy. From the corner of my eye, I saw George's face had been disfigured by the glass. There was blood everywhere. He had already passed out. Someway, somehow I tried to pray, but I could barely organise my thoughts into a plea. The smoke started to suffocate me.

Then everything went black.

---

I opened my eyes to my mom asleep with her head on my bed. My vision was blurred, but I made out what I assumed to be my dad, stretched on a chair not too far from me.

Where was I?

Right on cue, the memories came flooding. The song. The car. The pole. The sirens.

Oh no

George!

I tried to speak, but all that came out were coughs. They woke my mother up.

“Samantha? Samantha, you're awake! Richard, she's awake. Call the nurse!”

“M-mom,” I stuttered.

“No no, honey, don't talk. Shhh,” she coaxed.

But I was in no mood to relax. I had a lot of questions on my tongue threatening to break free.

How long have I been here? How did they find out? Where's my brother? Are we in trouble?

“M-mom,” why was I holding back tears? “Where's George? How is he doing? When can I see him?”

My mom looked at me, there was a broken look in her eyes. It confirmed the worst.

No

No! It can't be.

The river that was welling up in my eyes broke free. “No. It's not true. It can't be true!"

“Sam, this is not the time. You have to rest. We'll tell you everything when you get back. Richard, where's the nurse?” My dad scrambled out of the hospital room to look for the nurse when my mom startled him awake.

“No, mom. Tell me now. Where's George? I want to see him, please,” I begged.

My mom struggled to find the words. Finally, she said, in the best way she could, “Honey, George is in a better place now.”

“No,” I murmured

“They couldn't get him to the hospital on time. He died on arrival.”

I was wailing at this point. I could not believe it. It wasn't true. It was a prank. George asked them to tell me this. He can't be gone. They're lying.

I couldn't take it anymore. I was bawling my eyes out. The nurse finally came. She injected me, I'm sure it was a sedative because I felt myself relax, but I wasn't at peace.

This was all my fault. If only I hadn't suggested getting KFC. If only I hadn't requested to drive. If only I was paying attention to the road. If only we had gone for that damn wedding. I should be in his place. Why was my life spared instead when I was at fault? I would never be able to forgive myself.

George, wherever you are,please forgive me. I never meant for any of this to happen. I am really terribly sorry.

How would I live with this guilt? How would I do this life thing without my elder brother there?

The tears flowed again, and right before the sedative took me out completely, I couldn't help but hate myself. I would forever hate myself.

I killed my brother.

---

When I opened my eyes again, there was no one in the room. Realisation of what happened the previous night came back to me and my emotions overwhelmed me once again.

But suddenly, there was a breeze. It was almost as if it was sent to calm me down.

The breeze sent chills down my body, and I heard a whisper in my ear.

“It wasn't your fault, Sam. It wasn't your fault. Calm down. Be strong. I will always be here in your heart. I will never leave you. I will always be here. Don't worry, okay. I love you and I will always love you, baby sister.”

I sobbed once again, but this time, it was less heartbreaking.

“I am so sorry, George. I really am," I cried.

But now I was at peace with myself. George was there with me at that moment. He would always be with me.

And even as I took solace in the wind's comfort, I knew for a fact that I would never mention KFC ever again, for as long as I lived.

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