“Drake! Drake! Wake up!” Mckenzie pushed my still body that was laying on the kitchen floor. I heard my sister’s squeaky voice and felt the cold blade that was still clenched in my hand. Well, I guess I wasn’t dead.
“What?” I glared at Mckenzie’s innocent eyes.Suddenly tears came out of the 9 year old’s eyes. I directed my eyes to where she was staring. I rubbed my fingers over the bumpy scars. Chills went up my arm.
Even though Mckenzie couldn’t possibly understand what I tried to do, she still new what blood meant. She was 5 when my family was killed, but she still remembered the blood. Now even if she gets a papercut she freaks out.. more than a normal elementary student would.
I picked her up and sat down with her on the couch, which still had popcorn on it from the movie I watched with my friends the evening before. It ended in a fight. Just like that dreadful night 4 years ago.
She was still crying, and I think I let a few tears lose too.
We had a lot to talk about.