The Sun beat down on my face as I jogged through the knee high grass, the lawn a mass of shrubs and weeds after years of neglect. 

As I reached the small grove of leafy palm trees I hesitated, wondering whether or not I should continue. My brother, Robbie, and I used to love relaxing in the shade and soft grass, the shadows providing a brief respite from the harsh light of the Sun, but that was years ago. Now this house was left untouched, slowly falling apart, for fear  of the chilling memories we knew would resurface.

Coming to a decision, I continued on my walk to  the old home, slowly running my fingers over the rough wood and chipped paint, so old you could barely tell the color anymore. My brother would have never left it like this. He would have spent hours repairing it, but that was before "the incident."

I could see his room in the foggy window, the glass chipped and dusty. Most of the furniture had been ravaged be wild animals and time. Every instinct told me to run away from this place, to forget it and move on with my life, but I couldn't. Robbie didn't deserve to be forgotten like so many others.

I stepped through the now empty doorway and froze. A storm had broken down the already weak wall and exposed the kitchen. I now stared, unable to look away, at the exact spot where my brother had been killed all those years ago.