“Hey dad,” Brandon said as he walked into the living room. “I was reading some of the books you had from your childhood and this photo fell out. Who is this boy sitting next to you?”

This should be a fun story to listen to.

Hesitantly, I responded, “that was my younger brother, Arthur. He died when we were teens.”

“Dad, I didn’t know you had a younger brother.” It wasn’t something that I liked to talk about because I am still haunted by my choice. “How did he die?”

“Well, son, he was killed by demons.”

What an interesting choice of words.

“Demons? Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Me and Arthur liked to explore the neighborhood, pretend we were adventurers, stupid teen stuff like that. While exploring the apartments of an abandoned building, we came across a living room that had a symbol drawn on the floor.”

“As soon as we walked through it, smudging the lines, the floor became a deep reddish orange and hands emerged from it, grabbing both of our legs. We screamed and cried because of the searing hot pain from their infernal touch.” I pulled up my pant leg to show Brandon the handprint that had long been burned into my skin. “It’s not from a fire, like I’ve always told you.” He gasped.

“A voice echoed through the living room and said, “choose who lives and dies.” I fought through the tears to continue. “Arthur pleaded with the demonic entity to let us both go, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. So,” I sighed, “I chose to live.”

You selfish bastard.

“So, you sacrificed your brother’s life to save your own?” Tears of his own started to trickle down his cheek, accompanied by a look of disgust.

“Son, you have to understand, me and your mother, God rest her soul, had been dating for a few months and we loved each other so much. We were meant to be together and, yes, I wanted to live. We both wanted to get married and start a family. We had you and your sister, and everything was perfect.”

“What happened to Uncle Arthur?” He asked, anger in his voice.

“I was freed from their grasp and Arthur’s lifeless body fell to the floor.”

“I hate you and wish that you had died instead of mom.” Brandon stormed off and I could hear his door slam shut. Alone, I cried into my hands.

Are those even real tears?

I like how you only told him half of the truth.

“What was I supposed to do, Arthur? Huh? Tell him that I also promised the life of my first born?”

And that the only reason you wanted a second child was so that Sharon wouldn’t be so heartbroken when Brandon fulfilled his “destiny.”

“Please, just leave me alone.”

“Oh God, what have I done? Please forgive me.”