MicroHorror

My brother is oblivious to how serious the situation is. He thinks it’s a game. I tug his hand to hurry him but his feet only shuffle. We have to run. Word reached us that they were coming. Time to move to a safer place.

I wish I had his mind, a seven-year-old trapped in a man’s body. Life would be so much simpler. I’m glad he doesn’t understand and I’m glad he’s not afraid.

We burst into an abandoned house on an unfamiliar street and I rush him upstairs. Giggles come from over his shoulders. I will miss that sound. There is a wardrobe in the bedroom and I tell him to get inside and be quiet. He is good and does as he is told. I guard it, singing nursery rhymes to him, until I hear them coming upstairs, moaning and hungry for flesh. I scream and throw myself to them. I pray my brother will stay quiet.