Young Writers Society

"You should have joined, like you were meant to!" He cried, tears dripped off his face like rainfall falling from a rose bush. "I... I... I'm sorry Gates, I won't do wrong like you..."

High School always seemed like a big waste of time, were all gonna forget this shit soon, right? Thank god I'm a senior, one more year in this, and I don't know if I would live with myself. You got your geeks, jocks, nerds, emos, posers, and then you have those ordinary kids with no talent, like me.

Well, I have a lot of talent. Or that's what my brother would tell me at least.

Once again I flicked my head to get the long, dirty blond hair from my onyx colored eyes.

Gates, the world's best bro, always told me I had talent in things a lot of people wish they had skill in. I had speed, aim, and great movement motions; I could go missing for three days and turn out to be behind the back of the person looking for me.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but I could do sneaky things.

Today was the best day of my life; graduation day. And because of this it meant I was off to college, just like Gates.

Gates was the coolest kid in school in the 90's. Tonight was a party of my life, the college party where Gates and all his friends would be.

I just noticed the scent of juvenile sweat and perfume in the air. Everyone through their hat into the air, so it took me a moment, but eventually I did the same. I just caused attention to myself, everyone laughed at my stupidity.

I was always that weirdo, Sam Savage, the wanna be.

The night took forever, and I exchanged hugs with everyone in my tiny town. After this night I promised myself to move to Seattle.

Before I knew it, I was greeted at the door by the one, the only, my brother. Gates took my jacket and started socializing with me. Half of what he said I didn't really get, until he mentioned something about killing.

My head jolted upright, and I stared into my brothers soft, white eyes. He had his perfectly groomed sky-blue hair. Tonight he was wearing a tuxedo.

"I was thinking, maybe you could run into some of what I do." He muttered into my face. My mouth just hung open and he kept going, "We could really use someone like you on the squad, Sam."

I knew exactly what he wanted from me. He wanted me to join his stupid fugitive gang. The "Assassins" they called themselves. Just then I glanced up to meet a young man's face. He was so small, probably just entering high school.

"Hey, Gates, were gonna need to speak with you." He nodded his head to stare at me with his golden eyes under all the straight and long, white hair. "Alone. Please." He now glared at me and I shrugged. I stood up sheepishly, and walked off to the counter of snacks and drinks.

I sat down and fell off to sleep, without noticing it.

I stood sixty yards from my brother, and I waved. He just grinned and held up an old pistol. He quickly apologized, and pulled hard on the trigger, releasing the key to all the blood about to surround me.

I laid on the ground and watched the stream of blood flow from my head. I just sat up, and stared around, confused. I just waited for someone to tell me what was happening. In the distance I could see the boy from before patting Gates on the back, and telling him good job. I screamed breathlessly, "What's going on?!"

I jolted up and stared around. There were only me and two other people still in the room. Everyone else had left.

I cringed as I thought of the nightmare I just witnessed.

It must have been hours, I stared blankly at my wrist, just noticing I did not own a watch.

I stood up and started to leave, but I could hear a drowned out voice yell, "Stop, Mr. Savage!"

I halted at the doorway, waiting to hear more. When he didn't say anything else, I turned around. "Yes?"

"Come with me," he insisted.

I followed Gates, bewildered, and frightened now remembering the nightmare I was just in. We stopped in front of an old car, maybe from the fifties. "Sorry, brother." I murmured, mostly to myself.

"I'm not coming with you to the stupid gang." I muttered. He just nodded and pursed his lips. "Why not?"

"I don't want to be a criminal!" I cried. He just nodded again. "That's not exactly how this gang works, Sam." He shook his head, having blue hairs fly around.

"Then I am sorry, too," he said, stretching his hand to his pocket, I tensed. Tears then sprouted in both our eyes.

"You should have joined, like you were meant to!" He cried, tears dripped off his face, like rainfall falling from a rose bush. "I... I... I'm sorry Gates, you I won't do wrong like you..."

He pointed his gun at my face, and pulled the trigger. I jumped out of the way, just in time. The bullet hit the old car. He laughed slowly, then I screamed.

The car caught fire, and I scrambled away. I looked back and saw Gates grinning at me. I couldn't help but to scream, "Get outta there, you dumb ass!"

The car busted, and blew up in a huge explosion, as if a flower called fire was blooming. I dropped my eyes to the ground and felt sobs drown my whole body. I couldn't stop whispering to myself, It's all my fault.