«Big Brother… can you do that thing you used to do when I was little?» I whisper, looking at Chris Leviantis, my older brother. At fourteen, he's four years older than me and, to me, the most beautiful person in the world.
His green eyes glimmer like gemstones under the dim light, and his blond bob-cut hair—just like mine—frames his face perfectly. It's no surprise my friends are infatuated with him, but Chris is mine. No one can take him away.
Chris is glued to the television, engrossed in his favorite video game. «Turn off the TV and go to bed by 9:30,» Mom reminded us before heading upstairs. It's almost ten now, long past his gaming curfew.
«Come on, Brianne, you're too old for this now. Let me play in peace!» Chris groans.
But I'm not giving up. Sliding off the chair, I sit next to him on the couch, close enough that our legs touch—my right against his left. «Please, big brother! Pleeease!» I whine. My ultimate weapon: relentless begging.
To push further, I tilt my head, completely blocking his view of the screen. «Brianne, knock it off already!» he snaps, his patience thinning. «You're not a little kid anymore. Go get a boyfriend to do it for you!»
A boyfriend? At ten years old? No way! I'm too young for that nonsense. «I want you to do it! And you'll still do it when I'm older!» I insist, pressing harder. «If Clare asked, you'd do it in a heartbeat!» I accuse.
«Clare?» He frowns, confused. «You mean Clare Azuralis? That redhead from your class? Honestly, I don't know how you two are the same age. She looks fifteen, acts twenty, and you…» He pauses, smirking. «…you're a ten-year-old acting like a preschooler.»
«Big brother, you're so mean!» I whine, punching his shoulder with all the strength my small fist can muster. «Even Clare thinks you're cool! I won't let her come over when you're around anymore!»
«Shut it,» he retorts, ignoring my punch. «As if I'd date a ten-year-old. Although…» He grins. «…she is rich. Maybe someday I'll consider it.»
I throw my arms into an exaggerated X. «You and Clare? Never!» Grabbing his arm, I shake it desperately. «Do that thing I like, and I swear I won't ask for a week! Pleeease!»
Chris exhales loudly, clearly fed up.
«Fine! But only for five minutes, got it? And don't ask again for at least a month!»
«Deal! Deal! Deal!» I cheer, bouncing in place. Overwhelmed with excitement, I leap off the couch, grinning triumphantly.
Chris reluctantly pauses the video game, setting the controller on the floor. He pulls his legs together hesitantly. «Alright, get on with it,» he mutters, avoiding my gaze.
I don't need telling twice. I lie sideways, resting my head on his thighs. My eyes close, and a wide grin spreads across my face, glowing. Bliss begins as his fingers glide through my hair, gently brushing my scalp. A shiver of happiness runs through me, as if it's the very first time.
When we were younger, my big brother did this every night to help me sleep. But now—now that he's growing up—he doesn't give me the same attention. That's normal, right? He has friends and girls swooning over him. Still, he'll always be my big brother, and I'll always be his little sister.
«I love you so much, big brother,» I whisper sweetly, snuggling closer.
His face flushes red, almost like a tomato. «Brianne… I've told you, we're not kids anymore…»
«Just because we're not kids, I can't love my big brother?» I ask, confused. «Why don't you ever tell me you love me?»
Chris's face turns even redder, almost as bright as Clare's hair. «Brianne, stop it. It's embarrassing…»
«You're embarrassed to tell your little sister you love her? Why?» I ask, puzzled. «I didn't say—»
BANG! BANG!
The sharp, jarring sound echoes from upstairs, where the bedrooms are. It's so loud, the walls shake. My heart skips a beat. What… what was that? I don't want to believe it. I don't even want to think about it.
But the terror creeping up my spine is undeniable. Before I can react, Chris leaps off the couch so fast I stumble and fall to the floor. I barely catch myself, breath hitching. Moments later, two men appear.
They're dressed in dark suits, black as night, with balaclavas covering their faces, leaving only their eyes visible. One pair is dull brown, but the other… icy—cold, calculating, filled with malice. The sight sends a chill through me.
The men are holding guns. My mind struggles to process. The noises from upstairs… My parents… My throat tightens. I can't breathe. I can't think. Tears stream down my face, hot and unstoppable. I don't even know when they began.
My body shakes, trembling as if freezing. My legs buckle, and I drop to the floor, my hands trembling as I try to steady myself. I grab Chris's arm, my last thread of comfort. I need him. I need to feel safe. I want him to make everything better, like always. But instead of holding me, he pulls away, pushing me back. My heart sinks, heavy and aching. Chris's gaze is tense with fear. His jaw clenches so tight I can hear it grind.
«Brianne, run and hide!» His voice is strained, desperate, cracking with emotion.
«Big brother, I—»
«Run and hide, I said!» he yells, angrier than ever. His face is streaked with tears—anger and despair swirling in his eyes.
Hide? Where? What can I do? There's no time to question it. I have to listen. I have to obey. I take a shaky step back, but before I can move, one of the men raises his gun and fires.
My big brother… He's different. I've always known it. Every sister thinks her big brother is a hero, but he really is one.
A massive ice wall erupts before me, forming out of thin air—a barrier between me and the bullet.
I'm not exaggerating—my brother is a superhero. For two years, he's done the impossible. He once tried explaining it to me, but I didn't understand. There's water in the air, invisible to the eye, and Chris can pull it out and turn it into ice at will. Hard to believe, but true. It's our secret—one I'd never share with anyone.
«As we suspected, he has the Ice Crystal,» says the man with chilling eyes, his voice full of satisfaction. «You and your little high school friends playing vigilantes aren't great at hiding your powers.»
«What the hell are you talking about?!» Chris shouts.
«Be more careful using your powers in public. Someone might see,» the man mocks, his tone dripping malice. From his jacket, he pulls a glass vial filled with thick, translucent liquid, holding three tiny, colorful crystal shards floating inside.
He shakes the vial mockingly. «Yours is the only one missing.»
«Bastards, I'll kill you!» Chris roars, fury boiling over. The ice wall shatters into a thousand razor-sharp shards, hovering mid-air, all aimed at the two men.
The man with icy eyes grabs his companion's arm, pulling him forward as a human shield. Gut-wrenching screams follow as the ice needles pierce his body, each hit making a sickening sound. Blood sprays gushing from wounds.
I'm crouched under the table, my heart pounding wildly. The door is locked, and this heavy wooden table in the living room is the only place I could think to hide. I don't have to do anything. Chris will handle it.
When the gunfire stops, the man drops the mangled body he'd used as a shield, letting it thud heavily down the stairs. Without missing a beat, he pulls out a second pistol—its longer barrel aimed directly at the table where I'm hiding.
«This gun won't pierce your ice wall, but I'm sure it'll rip through the table where your precious little sister is hiding,» the man sneers, his voice dripping malice. Chris's jaw tightens, fury boiling, but he doesn't move.
«You bastard… if you harm a single hair on my sister's head, I swear—»
«You'll kill me?» the man interrupts with a cold laugh. «Go ahead, then. I'm right here, gun aimed at your sister. What are you waiting for? Or are you scared I know the weak spot in your impenetrable defense?»
Weak spot? My brother has a weak spot? My heart races, confusion drowning me. The man sneers, his finger tightening on the trigger.
«Time's up, kid,» the man sneers, pulling the trigger. A bullet slices through the air. Chris reacts instantly. Another ice wall rises, a desperate shield against the bullet's path. But then—I hear it. Another shot.
What's happening? I can't see past the shattered ice wall. All I hear are chaotic sounds—my brother and that man—but I can't make sense of it.
«Big brother! Big brother!» I scream, but there's no response. No answer.
The ice collapses, shattering into countless pieces that scatter across the room. When it clears… I see him—my brother—slumped on the ground, motionless. A scream rips from my throat as I stare, helpless, at his blood-drenched body.
«Big brother… open your eyes, please!» I plead, trembling. Tears stream down my face, mixing with his blood. «Big brother… please, wake up.»
The man's footsteps echo down the stairs. My heart pounds, panic gripping me tightly.
«Big brother… big brother…» I shake him desperately, but he doesn't respond. Nothing. His body feels cold under my hands. Then, slowly, his eyelids flutter. Just the slightest movement—his eyes crack open slightly, revealing dull but familiar emerald irises.
His voice is faint, barely a whisper. «I love you, my little sister.»
A desperate scream pierces the silence of the night. Brianne's frantic cries echo as she jolts upright, her body trembling uncontrollably on the soft mattress beneath her.
The bedroom is spacious and tastefully decorated, tall wardrobes lining the walls. A heavy iron bar secures the large window to the balcony. Brianne's breaths come in ragged gasps, shallow and labored. She trembles violently, sobbing as if caught in a storm.
«Did you dream about that night again?» Clare asks gently, lying beside her in the bed. Her voice is soft and soothing.
Brianne nods, barely moving. Clare sits up, her gaze soft and heartbroken. Her blue eyes glisten with unshed tears.
«Calm down, Bry. I'm here with you,» Clare whispers, pulling Brianne into a tight hug. Her arms wrap around her, offering comfort in despair. «It was just a nightmare, Bry. Just a nightmare.»