The only noise I can hear is the sound of cold, beaded raindrops smashing against the wet earth beneath my feet, and the only thing I can feel is pain.
It started like any other normal day, one between me and my brother. It was summer, July to be percise, and I could hear the sounds of graceful birds chirping above the distant rooftops. His warm, tender fingers would intertwine with mine as he walked me across the street, the area seemingly desolate.
His fingers left my own, however, when we reached the other side of the street. He looked down and realized his shoe had been left in the middle of the blazing hot pavement. I watched as he flashed me a goofy smile, before turning on his heels and running out into the road, or more-so hopping into the road, to grab his other shoe.
I pressed my back against the lamp-post, the hot metal pressing against my skin through thin layers of fabric- my ears began to ring. My head turned around, body swiveling around the lamp post, only to see the en