This is actually rather intriguing. I hope it is the beginning of a series of pieces or the start of a longer story... The reason I say that is that you have successfully negotiated the trickiest of hurdles when writing a story: grabbing the readers' attention and HOLDING IT. Well done!
I look forward to reading more from you in the future.
PLEASE take more care with your spelling. You have left spaces in certain words where a hyphen should be. Other than that, although short and slightly peculiar, this is a reasonable little effort. :-) Well done!
This story was very close to being rejected on the basis of your poor spelling - again!
PLEASE CHECK YOUR SPELLING BEFORE SUBMITTING FUTHER WORK.
You have some good ideas for your stories, but I get the impression you are not too keen on properly developing them. They always feel a little rushed, which is a pity. This is probably why you leave so many spelling mistakes in them.
Take time to re-read your work. Have more faith and confidence in your writing skills and TAKE MORE CARE!
Fabulous! (later edit 11/05/16)) Having re-read this I 'saw' more than the first time. Although not my 'cup of tea' I appreciate your skill in writing in this genre. You have a fabulous imagination, which comes across vividly in your story.
Take a little more care with your punctuation and spelling as it mars your story.
One point of note: it is not good practice to use numerals in prose. One should always spell the number in full i.e. 'two-thirty' for 2.30.
Beautiful, mature and heartfelt. Excellent work!
Interesting philosophical thoughts from one so young. An engaging little piece. Well done and do keep writing :-)
The main fault with your story is in its presentation. I would have suggested something like this:
It was (on) a Wednesday that my older brother committed suicide or, as my parents would call it, (committed) the ultimate act of betrayal.
I suppose it was in a way; it was a very selfish act. He had only created more sadness in an already disastrous situation. He'd been bullied since sixth grade when he came out of the closet. I never thought of him differently. He was the same person to me. However not everyone else felt the same.
My parents had sent him to counselling, as if (he was suffering from) were some sort of disease. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he thought his own parents didn't accept him, but I did.
I accepted him, so why wasn't I enough?
This is my fault. I should've tried harder to keep him happy, but it's too late now.
I stare out of the window at the storm. He always liked it when it rained. He may be gone, but he's still my brother. I walk out of his room and shut the door, taking the memories with me.