Your mom had died a couple months ago, you didn’t get time to mourn her, she left you to care for your little brother, alone. You were only nineteen and you were taking care of a fifteen year old, it was exhausting, he had gone crazy since the death. Your brother didn’t know how to mourn, so he went out and got into trouble instead, doing anything that he could to get him yelled at, or punched, or hated. You didn’t understand this behaviour, things were good at home, even without your mom. You did the best you could for that kid and he still made you feel horrible, you were close to giving up. Today was the usual, you tried to bond with your brother, you made him breakfast, then lunch, then dinner, and he didn’t eat any of them. The day ended in a screaming match, then he stormed out the door like a child. You stayed home, mentally screaming at yourself for even trying, you tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t you, the kids going through something. But you were too, that’s something he keeps forgetting, she was your mom too. You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth and changing in to pajama’s, you could only hope that the kid would come home. There was a knock at the door, with a soft sigh, you walked downstairs and opened it. There he was, with an officer. Unfortunately, this was the officer that normally caught your brother, this had became a daily thing. “Vandalism.” Officer Morgan told you in a gruff voice, pushing your brother inside. He was sick of this, and so were you.