Switched

1.

The glowing white street lights blared down on me as I walked back home. I had just been in detention, for another questionable reason. The city was roaring with cars, planes and people. People. I could hear the sound of people, cheering from the other side of the shabby scaffold skyscraper close by. 'Wonder what it's all for' I thought to myself. 'Probably druggies' I turned the corner from where the cheering was coming from, and it grew louder and louder until faded silhouettes of what looked like teenagers came in sight. A circle of them surrounding someone or something, like when you're naughty in school and you have to sit in the middle of a story time circle. And i finally realised what it was. A street fight. Common, not a big deal. Yet for some reason i tried to pace myself, tried to slip past unnoticed, like something was going to happen to me. They filled the whole pavement so I took a gamble and quickly stepped onto the side of the road, then the horns came blazing at me, but i shook it off and carried on round the group that were now cheering louder than before. I wanted to take a peek, a peek at the big situation that was going on. So i did. A guy getting his ass beaten by another guy in a scruffy pale tank top and torn jeans. One guy in a hoodie glanced up at me for a second, and I upped my pace after that. The voice of an teenager cried out for help. And then I stopped. My heart racing. I anxiously turned round and saw the horror. The victim of the gang was none other than.
My brother.

I wanted to scream for help but my throat felt incapable of letting out speech at that moment, the shock that had unfolded in front of my own eyes. Eyes. Tearing up . I ran furiously to the group and pushed my small body through the hips of to men. I dragged out Frazier. Unconscious and still. The group blurted out things to me, as the guy in the tank top came at me. And with one swift punch, he clipped the side of my jaw. I scraped my arms against the road, and pulled out my pen knife. My mum had always giving it to me in case i got into trouble, and it worked. The man flinched back at the sight of the blade, so did the group. I dialled 999 and soon enough the group fled and sirens filled the air. The rush. The panic. Gone. And in a flash i was alone with a police officer asking me questions as Frazier was being dragged away into an ambulance. Then i thought hit me. It's all a dream. But no. It was reality at it's worst. I was taken home and as the police officer talked to my mum, i wandered upstairs and slumped down on my bed. I took a long time to process what had just happened. My mum didn't comfort me, because after hours i was still alone in my cold, dark room. Gazing up at the ceiling and trying to wrap my mind around everything. I gave up. Nothing seemed right, then again it never did. My world was unfair. Later, my mum came in, slammed a mug of hot chocolate down on my desk and walked out out, nearly breaking my door. I thought, for one second, she was going to reassure me that everything would be fine. But she hates my guts anyway. All because of a blog. Then i felt something vibrate in my pocket, my phone. I slipped it out and answered the unknown number and held the phone to my head. "Hello am i speaking to Catharine oakwood?" The voice in the phone said calmly.
"No, but you're speaking to her son." I mumbled out.
"Oh, is she free? I need to inform her that her son Frazier oakwood has been confirmed dead at the hospital."
I dropped the phone.