Have you ever felt someone’s heart-dropping fear? I have!

Bits of this memory are foggy to me because it’s been a few years. However, it’s a memory that haunts my mind endlessly!

It was nighttime. The moon was out. Mom, my younger sister and I were inside our house when a popping sound overwhelmed us. Sounded like a 22 or perhaps just a fire cracker. We didn’t pay further mind to the sound, attributing it to the neighbor kids playing games. Our guns were locked up in the safe, therefore it could not have been my brother and said friend.

As the night progressed I received a text message from a few friends wanting to party. Heck, the night was still young! I head outside and hone in on the details: where everyone was headed, who’s coming out to throw down, etc. Two houses down from my house – at the stop sign – my younger brother sneaks up behind me then snatches my phone right from my fragile hands. I turn around, eyes deadlocked with his. To my shock, I pondered why he would just snatch my phone like that for no apparent reason? I was thinking this could be a prank, but felt otherwise because of the abnormal look in his eyes. With my brother consumed by anger, I felt like a stranger– that my own flesh and blood could possibly hurt me.

With one hand in his pocket, I registered my brother’s every move in super slow motion as if this were the final scene in a movie that ended in a stabbing (unfortunately, my stabbing). Abruptly he goes for the battery and pulls it out of my phone, squealing “who are you on the phone with?”

“IS IT THE COPS,” my brother roars. He kept on repeating “who was it” over and over in a trancelike but vicious manner, clamping onto the collar of my shirt while tugging for my response.

During this duress I maintained my cool. I looked him in the eyes and told him the truth, point blank: “I was going to a party and that I was on the phone with friends.” As I tried to read the situation I had flashes suffocate my visual sphere. Something bad has happened or my brother would not have mentioned the cops. I remember that popping sound when I was in the house. What did my brother do? The anger in his eyes clearly spawned by fear. I had to maintain calmness and deescalate the situation. I had to find out what specifically is wrong.

By maintaining eye contact with my brother I wanted to convey that I knew he was afraid and that I was going to be there for him no matter how this situation panned out. After I reassured him – with proof – that I was only on the phone with mere friends, I put my arm around him like a loving sister then led him back to the house to further investigate the scene.

As we took that first step towards the house, my brother dropped to his knees, balling his eyes out repeating “I didn’t mean to do it, Britt.” My mind was on a mission: show no fear, be stern and make my brother feel safe (even though I was terrified as hell).

I was in fear of what my brother possibly did. I observed that the dogs were not barking in the backyard. OMG did my brother shoot them? I heard that popping noise earlier. Did my brother somehow get the guns out of the safe without my knowledge? I never seen my brother cry like this before! My brother shot animals when we would go hunting. He shot animals that were suffering to put them to sleep (with heartfelt intentions, of course). However, this time something was truly very wrong.

As I sat down next to my brother I nudged him to tell me what happened (to provide sisterly help). I told him I have money saved up and if need be I can get you a flight to a different country, pronto, but I need to know what happened…

Am I going to walk back to the house and find a body laying on the ground with its head pierced by a myriad of bullets? What am I going to do if he did kill somebody? Am I going to talk him into turning himself in? Am I going to give him a one way ticket to Mexico and, if I did so, what story would I feed the cops? Would I take the blame for my brother? Are we both going to be hiding a body tonight as a Murderer & Accomplice duet? Where would I hide a body? Was this an accident? Would I walk back to that house to find my mother and sister’s carcass; and if I did would I be shooting my brother in the face tonight like George shot Lennie in the end of Mice and Men? All these hypotheticals bombarded my thought process, but I have to stay calm and avoid the panic.

My brother is hysterical, hyperventilating, tears pouring from his eyes. Again repeating: I didn’t mean to do it, Brittany. My neck hairs rising and my stomach knotting up. Images of somebody’s mangled body at the front of the panic centers of my brain’s amygdala.

Where is the gun, I ask? Where is your friend? We need to see if he is ok! I reassured my brother everything will be okay. I’m going to make sure – no matter what – you will be safe. I hugged him tightly. I pulled him up from the ground as he was hesitant to come on up. I was thinking I need to make sure his friend is okay but I can’t leave my brother or he will take off or kill himself and this would be the last moment I would ever see my brother again. What do I do? What if his friend is hurt? What if he is dead? I need to get to the house now! Finally my brother and I walk back to the house. My brother could not tell me anything. He didn’t want to go near the house. We were standing by the car in the front driveway when all of a damn sudden his buddy came walking out the door with an attitude. I can’t help be flustered with confusion caring less and less about his friend’s well-being.

Why does my brother’s buddy have an attitude? I could see my mom and sister fine through the window. Is my brother on drugs? Is he going crazy? Did he kill someone else? This isn’t a prank because I feel the deepness in my brother’s pain. I can feel his emotions. Did he shoot someone else? His buddy was perfectly fine from what I could see. I ask his buddy where the gun is. He told me it was inside on the bed. Ah hah that popping noise was them! But what happened? My brother begged to keep the gun away. I ask his buddy what happened? Blankness wtf. At that point I was confused but I wanted answers so I calibrated a special sternness in my voice.

Finally his buddy came clean to the fact that my brother pointed the gun directly at his temple then fired! Luckily his friend tripped and fell face first as the bullet flew past nicking him in the ear. LOL. The end.

Editor: Frank Rizalino