Innocents Caution

Life can surface, and then decide to destroy the Earth to shreds.  Just as we were brought onto this planet, we can obliterate the place in which brought our existence.  We survived here, but that doesn't mean we won't die as well.

Even in the dark, I could still see the outline of his face, the baby blues of my brother, with freckles of fire, smacked right on the bridge of his nose.  My brother, pale and young, with shadows casting lines of age, that aren't meant to be on a boy. He isn't scared, not a pinch of doubt prances on his features.  I've taught him well.
We have to be tough, because he and I aren't responsible, aren't meant to be punished for the sins and wrongdoings of others.  Yet here we are, feet stuck in mud with chains that shackle ankles, forged by the wretched guilt, guilt of not being able to stop the hatred of what's become.
We have been here for days, and already sickness has gathered hold of our once healthy bodies, taking advantage of the already dreadful situation.  Like a forgotten piece of bubble gum our bodies are tossed, only to be stepped on over and over again, taken advantage of by our weakness. We can't fight back, not like this, but what's the point of staying here, if we aren't to blame?
"Mark my days, why don't you?" Mumbles my brother, under his breath.
"What was that?" Words snake my tongue, sliding through the creases of my lips, "What was that you said?"


I peer over my shoulder, to look at him, at my brother - with his unmoving eyes and body facing forward.  My brother, who a few days ago - wouldn't have welcomed death. Not like this. My brother is not like this...
"What did you say?" I repeat myself, spitting an awful tone at the target, that now lays on his forehead, and - on mine as well.
"I didn't say nothing." He mutters, the sly of a smirk, jutting his mouth.
"You better hush, before a guard hears you." I warn, "If you don't talk, we can probably esca--"
He screams, "There's no use! No use at all!"
I kick him in the shin, my chains clanking with movement, "Shut your mouth, Silas, and quick being smart."
"Your sister's right." A guard makes his way over to my brother, beady eyes and slacking posture, one foot after the other as he pounds his way towards him.
Silas growls, his baby indigo blues, turn mean, "I don't care about her or you, or anyone on this goddamn planet! We're innocent and you know it."
The guard flicks my brother's nose and peers into his eyes.  His beard hangs low in front of Silas's face. Chin taunt, cheeks a rosy pink as my brother's shine pale, the clear difference of a man treated well, while children rot.  A sinister smile creeps from his lips, as he continues to stare at my brother.
"You had your chance boy!  And so did your sister!" The guard spits, gooey saliva dripping from his mouth like a rabid dog, "Now be quiet, peasant."
"No trial, no chance." He snarls, thick snot drapes over his nose, like the snood of a turkey, "We didn't even get a chance to defend ourselves."
The guard laughs, but Silas continues, jerking his thumb over to me, "And if you hurt Thora again, I'll beat you, you - selfish jerk."
I glance at the bruises that line my arms, feeling self-conscious, as I turn my head away.  It isn't fair for Silas to have to defend me. I used to be the tough one, the tough big sister.  Now Silas, who used to be scared of human contact, glowers at the guard. He doesn't dare to back away from this man.  Silas just doesn't want me to get hurt anymore, but neither do I for him. The only difference is that now he has the guts to say it, for I lost my bravery with the past.
"Do you know what we do to smart-mouthed boys?" The guard grins a toothy smile, "Because I'll show, ya."
"No, what?" His snarky attitude still hangs strong, a thread woven to his vocal cords, dangling in anguish, yet still not ready to snap.
"This." He points the gun to Silas's head and shoots, the pale boy growing paler, with blood and courage to shine, but with innocence to fade.
I don't remember screaming, and I don't remember crying.  All I remember is how lifeless I felt, even though my brother was the one who died.
"You listen to the rules, girlie, and you won't end up like him." He kicks my brother's corpse to the side of the yard, the grass skimming his knees with marks of mud, "I'll leave this here as a warning."
I only nod, not wanting to speak.  I would die in silence, die with words still in my heart, as I listened.  But I listened to more than those lousy rules. I listened to the sound of a gun, of my brother's body hitting the grass, and to the voices in my head.  But not once did I listen, to you.