It was late one night. Raining. Cold. I was five.

My parents said everything was going to be fine.

Parents lie.

I woke up to his crying. It scared me. I screamed.

My parents went to check on him. They said he was fine.

He had a fever. The lightning made me cry.

They said they would see me soon. That I needed to go back to sleep.

They said that he would be okay when I awake.

Hours passed. To me, it felt like days.

I held on to the thought that the morning would be okay.

The rain poured on.

And on.

And on.

My parents said everything would be okay.

He died.