I used to love the rain. Rain reminded me of colourful umbrellas, hot chocolate and misty window. But the real reason I loved the rain was because it reminded me of him. Rain reminded me of my little brother's excited squeals as he saw grey cloud rolling across the sun. Rain reminded me of how he would grab his battered umbrella in one hand, and tug my fingers, pulling me with him, in the other.
We had a favourite spot when it came to watching the rain. It was an old oak tree that lay just across the road, on a small plain green hill. My brother loved how you could see everyone's house from that tree. He loved to watch people walk in the rain, umbrellas clutched in their hands, their eyes on the floor, scurrying to the warmth of their homes. He told me he would imagine what all those people did once they got home, did they have families? Did they have a dog, or a cat, maybe a small fish? He wondered if they would play board games or watch television, or huddle under blankets and tell each other stories. People fascinated him and he never tired of watching them.

I thought about my brother, as I often did, as I walked towards the old school building. The ground seemed familiar, yet at the same time, oddly frightening. I placed the feeling on the fact that my intentions were different than usual.

My brother loved me, he made it his first priority to tell me so everyday. Sometimes the statement would surprise me, he would say it just after a fight or when I had shouted at him. Sometimes, it made me cry, like when he noticed the self-inflicted slices that were painted across my arms but would look me in the eyes and tell me I was still beautiful. My brother told me everything. We would lay huddled together under thick woolen blankets, cowering from our parents ranting the echoed from downstairs. My brother would tell me he was scared, scared of the dark, scared of getting hurt, scared of the fighting, the bullies, scared of life. I used to laugh at his squeaky voice. I would simply smile and pat his fluffy golden head, whispering reassuring coos. He needed someone to depend on, and I was determined to fulfill that role. I vowed to protect him.

Protect him.

I pushed my weight against the school's thick glass door and flinched when it opened with a loud creak. I stood in the abandoned entrance hall and looked towards the spiraling staircase that led to the roof. I took a deep breath, calming my jittering nerves and shaking hands. Leaning against the staircases's handrail, I slowly made my way up the stairs. My feet marched together with the quiet tick of the grandfather clock that sat against the wall.

Together

My brother and I were complete opposites. I was smart yet impatient and often frustrated. I had a huge case of social awkwardness, people either scared or annoyed me, sometimes both. I was deemed "uncontrollably emotional " at times. My brother was, in a way, my savior. He was my responsibility and the thought of taking care of him often kept me going. My brother, unlike me, was compassionate, he noticed people's actions and connected them to how people felt. My brother was a crybaby, soft and meek, and yet, in a way, stood strong and firm, reminding me of a tree.
My brother and I were completely opposite. And yet, due to the laws of nature, opposites attract. My brother and I were the perfect partners, incredibly close, we deemed ourselves inseparable.

I reached the top the the stairs and pushed open the door. As I stepped onto the roof, a gush of wind made my skirt flap and my eyes water. I took careful steps across the roof and peered over the edge. The roof was high. The fall would be painful. I asked myself, "Did I want to die?"

Death

My brother was both fascinated and terrified by death. He constantly made it his duty to find out what happened after a person dies. He would use libraries, bookstores, churches, anything that would calm the curiosity in his mind. And yet, the knowledge he obtained would scare him, he told me he didn't want to die. So, I amused him with stories of fanciful heavens and reincarnation. One day, he came up to me and stated that when he dies, he wants to be reborn as the sun. Surprised, I asked him why. "Because everyone loves the sun. When it rains, the sun makes everyone happy again. I want people to love me like that. I want to make everyone happy, especially you!"
Happy?
I guess I was never truly happy when I wasn't around him. My thoughts were often dark and I often took my anger out on people who came into contact with me. That was my fatal mistake.
I never thought that one fight would lead to anything. My brother and I rarely fought, and we we did it was usually over something petty that we would laugh about the next day. It's funny, I don't even remember what we fought about . But I remember how he pushed me out the doorway and ran outside, quickly wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. As the door slammed, my heart instantly sunk, it was my fault, I rushed after him to apologize.
I told my brother I would protect him, yet, as he stood there in the middle of the road, the rain dripping off his fingers, his eyes wide in horror at the oncoming truck that had no control on the slippery tarmac ,I just stood there and watched. Even as his blood splattered across my face, and the smell of his hair polluted the air. I just watched.
Everything was red after that. Red was the colour of the flowers they used at his funeral, red was the colour of the band I wore around my wrist to remind me of him. People moved on, slowly forgetting. I envied how easy they made it seem. I couldn't move on, not until I had told him how sorry I was for fighting with him that day, not until I told him, for the first time, that I loved him too.

I stood at the edge of the roof, rocking backwards and forwards on the balls of my feet, tempting fate. The rain slowly dripped off my glasses, making everything blur . The ribbon on my shirt flapped in the wind, slapping my neck. I laughed at how ironic the rain felt. The rain we loved was bidding me goodbye.
I don't know what I thought as I stood on the roof. Maybe I thought, if I died, I would somehow be able to bring him back. We would go home together and drink hot chocolate and I would finally tell him how sorry I was. It would be a fairytale ending.
Maybe I thought I didn't deserve to live on while he was dead. I told him I would protect him, but I didn't save him from that truck . I had no right to be here..
I just knew I had to try, for him. I would make up for my actions.
This was my way of saying sorry.
So ,
Can you hear me?
"I love you--"

I slowly took my last breath, savoring the feeling of the air entering my lungs.
I turned around and faced the sky.
I hope you're watching.
I took a step backwards and..
Fell..
I watched as the sky moved further and further away. The wind screeched in my ears, taking off my glasses and leaving the rain to fall on my eyes. My hair fell out it's small ponytail and whipped around my neck. My arms failed out in front of me.
Then.
Everything turned that dark red.
It hurt.
Did it work?
Is fate trying to tell me it was meant to turn out this way?
I'm sorry I couldn't save you,
Brother, if you're watching..
"I'm sorry, I died"
So please, please forgive me.



Prologue~
The boy walked out the classroom, carrying his mud covered shoes in one hand and a large umbrella in the other. His bag was heavy and filled with algebra homework that he was not looking forward to completing once he got home. The boy walked down the pathway and glanced up at the grey sky, wondering when the rain would finally let up. Suddenly, a small "clack" came from behind him. The startled boy jumped in fright and quickly turned around, ready to attack his perpetrator head on. He laughed when he noticed it was only pair of large red glasses . The curious boy picked up the glasses and saw noticed the now broken arm and shattered glass. He wondered how the glasses got there in the first place, did someone throw them? Could they have fallen...
The boy looked up and saw the girl falling. She was falling incredibly fast and the boy could only watch her in horrified awe. The boy panicked, not knowing what to do, wanting to save the girl, he ran closer to where she would fall but---
A loud "crack" reached the boys ear and he stumbled as he realized he was too late.
The smell of blood filled the air and the boy covered his mouth, staring at the body of the girl.
The girl moaned and twitched, and the boy quickly knelt next to her, trying to remember if anyone had told him what to do in a situation like this. The boys put his head on the girls chest and sighed relieved when he heard a frail heartbeat. He put the girl's head in his lap and used his shaking hand to brush the strands of hair off the girl's blood covered face. The boy did not know the girl, and yet, he found himself crying. His tears dripped off his chin and landed on the girl's cheeks. Her eyes painfully fluttered open and she took notice of the boy. The girl grimaced and asked slowly, "Brother?"
The boy looked surprised and sniffed loudly
" N-no, I'm sorry, I-i just saw you fall and you look injured so I just....."
The girl looked sad
" I see.. Do you think, he'll forgive me then?"
Suddenly, the boy understood who the girl was. He saw through her eyes how guilty she felt, how she thought her brother's death was her fault. He saw how the girl had walked up the stairs and stood on the roof, he understood the decision she had to make. He understood why she had jumped. The realization stabbed him in the heart.
The boy looked the girl in the eyes and smiled as best as he could.
"He will forgive you. I promise"
The girl simply smiled and said muttered,
"Then, tell him..I'm sorry"
And with that, the girl fell still