“What are ya talking ‘bout? Come on, get movin’!” Mike turned around when his brother was lifting his arm. Suddenly, Mike faced the gun he himself had thrust in Gabe’s hand only an hour before.
“You will not go. They will kill you.” Gabe’s low voice was barely audible, his words drowned by the howling of an early autumn wind. Mike was forced to scream against the rolling thunder and the rain drumming on tin roofs and splashing against windows. His twin was drenched from head to toe. The usually tousled hair was dripping with water, heavy strands hanging in front of his eyes.
Mike realized how much they had changed since the last time he had stood in this very place. Back then, their heads had been shaven, their faces boyish. He had been slim, and Gabe… Mike tried to forget the image of the past, when he had seen his brother for the first time in two years. Nothing but skin and bones, hardly able to stand on his own feet. The handsome features distorted and pinched. A dull-eyed, broken ragdoll.
If you want to support me somehow and don't wanna commission me (why... why would you not... commission me, I want to draw for you! look the link is above...xD) feel free to donate. I am very great full for every help and support I can get these days <3