(Rewritten)

There's a feared day that may come when a person we've known our whole lives, trusted with our secrets and have even loved, may turn out to be someone entirely different.

This is a day that has come too soon.

It's come in the form of flashing blue and red lights, shrill sirens, and sporadic shouts. It's come with a dreamlike quality which is lent to the suffocating air. It's come with an urge to grasp onto irrational thoughts. Thoughts, hopes, that the scene in front of you has to be a dream.

For how can everything have been so normal a mere few hours ago. Only to fall to pieces in a matter of seconds.

How could I have known that a chilling evening news report could soon be a frightening reality...

"Tragedy has struck yet again this evening as another murder is uncovered in Indianapolis. The police have not yet disclosed the name of the deceased. A suspect was arrested earlier this evening. The man is currently in custody and has confessed. He will be arraigned before 1st District court on Monday.The chance of a death penalty has been brought to the attention of the press. With many debates over the issue of the death penalty, this homicide and the trial stemming from it will only further aid in dividing the two sides."

The news reporter's voice drifts over to where I'm making popcorn. Frowning, I cross the cool kitchen tiles and slide onto the plush living room carpet. Grabbing the TV's remote control, I turn up the volume as the woman continues her evening announcements.

"This has brought this month's tolls alone up to thirty murders, a record for the state of Indiana. Experts say that the entire US has experienced a 19% rise in homicides. However, while police advise people to be cautious, they stress that the situation is under control."

Shaking my head, I turn off the TV lost in my thoughts.

"Reagan!"

I startle at the voice and drop the remote. Grumbling under my breath, I pick it up checking to make sure it hasn't broken, before setting it on the glass coffee table.

"What, Rick?" I yell, slightly irritated.

I hear Rick's footsteps coming from the second floor and he stops at the top of the glossy wooden stairs. He walks down to where I stand before taking off his wire thin glasses and rubbing his temples.

"What's that smell?" He wrinkles his nose, a look of disgust in his warm, honey colored eyes. Eyes which are identical to my own. I stiffen as I smell the air.

"Crap!" Running over to the kitchen, I yank open the microwave and I catch a whiff of burnt popcorn.

Pinching the top of the bag between my fingers, I dump it in the trash. I go to the pantry, ready to make another bag when my phone rings.

"Can you make the popcorn?" Rick rolls his eyes but proceeds to reach into the pantry and take out the popcorn. Unraveling the plastic wrap from around the bag, he pops it in the microwave. I pick my phone up from the counter.

Perching on one of the stools next to the counter, I glance briefly at the unknown caller ID before answering the call.

"Hello?" Static greets me on the other end of the line and then silence. I frown.

"Hello?" I try again, but the silence only continues.

Shrugging, I hit the end button. I place my phone on the counter, then clap my hands. Rick startles slightly at the sudden sharp noise, before gesturing to my phone.

"What was that about?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Wrong number, I guess." I answer with a dismissive tone, not thinking twice about the phone call. "Now, where's my popcorn?"

Rick laughs and tilts his head. "Your popcorn? I'm the one who took the time to make it!"

Putting my hands on my hips, I glare. "No. I made the first one! It just didn't turn out edible..."

I trail off at the end as I walk around the center island. Rick hugs the bowl to his chest, careful not to spill any popcorn, a hint of amusement on his face.

"Well that's too bad little sis! This popcorn is mine!"

Running over, I jump onto his back. He's forced to set down the bowl as he grunts under my sudden weight. It doesn't escape my notice that we're arguing over food, popcorn nonetheless. I snort. We're idiots but I'm still going to win this argument.

"I got distracted, okay? I wouldn't have let the precious popcorn burn otherwise!"

Rick shrugs me off his back and my feet hit the tile with a thump.

"Distracted by what? A squirrel?"

His snarky response earns a glare from me. Though on the inside I smile. I'd missed our petty banter. With Rick away and my parents working long hours, the house was practically mine. But being home alone didn't hold the same appeal as it once did. I'd prefer a loud, bustling house full of people over an empty one. When no one is around it's hard to stop loneliness from setting in. 

Shaking off my thoughts, I process his question. "I was watching the news..."

Rick runs a hand through his short sandy brown hair, it's color similar to my own long strands.

"Was there another murder?"

I nod and he looks troubled.

"They can't keep giving people the death penalty!"

I don't question his outburst. He's studying to be a lawyer. That means "innocent until proven guilty" has been embedded in his mind since his first day at law school. I grab his arm and drag him over to the couch. Shoving him into a sitting position, he sinks into the cushions. I bring back the bowl of popcorn and shut off the lights, before plopping down myself.

Crossing my legs, I set the bowl of popcorn in my lap and grab the remote from where I left it. I snuggle into the couch. Rick reaches across me and grabs a handful of the popcorn from the bowl. He pops it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Beginning my hunt for a movie on Netflix, I finally settle on Fast and Furious 6. We've both already seen it, but the point of our movie nights is to spend time with each other. 

I stare at the overly bright TV screen as the movie starts. Shoving some popcorn in my mouth, one bounces out landing on the couch and I pick it up. Grinning, I look over at Rick who's engaged in the movie. Taking the stray piece, I place it in his hair. He doesn't notice, and I give a victorious scream. 

Not out loud of course. I'm a ninja now.

Taking another piece of popcorn, I bite my lip as I put it in Rick's hair. I can't help but remember the time he put worms in my hair. He should be grateful I don't hold grudges. For long.

I've just finished artfully placing the fifth popcorn, when he shakes his head. All the pieces tumble off, settling on his lap. I start laughing at his dumbfounded expression. He glares at me before grinning. Taking the almost empty bowl out of my hand, he sets it on the table before beginning to tickle me. I shriek, and start to laugh painfully.

"Rick! Stop! Stop! I give up! You win!" I scream at him. When he doesn't let go, I hit a pressure point on his wrist.

"Ow! Reagan!" He pulls back immediately, pain crossing his features. "That hurt you idiot!"

Crossing my arms, I cock my head to the side. "You're the idiot; you know I'm ticklish!"

Rick smirks. "Well that's not my problem. But I didn't think you would use your freaking martial arts on me! I don't know why dad ever let you take those classes. You could have punched me."

I roll my eyes, exasperated at his outburst. "I know how to control my movements and not punch you by accident! I did do Ving Tsun for six years! Give me a little credit!"

He frowns at that. "Why did you end up stopping? I don't think I ever asked."

Silence fills the room before I answer hesitantly. "I don't know."

Rick looks skeptical but leaves it alone. I'm truthfully not sure why I quit, I just didn't find it fun anymore. After years of attending classes, things started to get too repetitive and I felt as though I wasn't learning anything new. Not to mention I was often stuck with teaching the kids or newbies. Something I didn't enjoy.

Focusing back on the TV, I zone out. Halfway through the movie, my head begins to droop and it falls onto Rick's shoulder. I mumble an apology but he just shrugs letting me continue to use his head as a pillow.

"It's alright little sis, it's past your bedtime anyway." He teases and I slap him upside the head, raising my own in the process.

"I'm not little! I just turned 18 remember!" He wipes away an imaginary tear, amusement in his eyes.

"My little sister, all grown up and heading off to college." My humorous mood sours a bit at the mention of college and Rick notices.

"Aw come on Rea-Rea, don't tell me you still have college-itis."

I roll my eyes at both the old nickname and his words. Instead of answering, I snatch his glasses off his head and put them on my own. Everything becomes blurry and I close my eyes. Sticking my nose up in the air, I do an almost perfect imitation of some of his friends.

"My dear Rick, it's because I'm not as studious as you!"

Rick takes back his glasses, polishing them on his shirt, before putting them back on.

"How can you say that Reagan? You had all A's throughout high school with one B!" I smirk, that doesn't mean I never considered being a stripper and dropping out at times. Plus, compared to Rick I'm nothing. A perfect GPA and ranking are not easy expectations to live up to in my family.

"I'm not the one acing my classes at Harvard!" I smirk and as Rick scowls, I know I've won.

"It's only because I have easier professors!" He argues, slightly annoyed now. I know this is a lie, but I let it go.

"Whatever you say big bro." I grin and pat his head. He pouts and I burst out laughing at how childish he looks. Cracking a smile, he flicks my forehead, and I wince at the slight pain. Rolling my eyes, I settle my head back onto his shoulder. Despite how much I make fun of him, I'm probably the proudest when it comes to his success.

Rick's breathing levels out as he falls asleep and his head falls to the side, soft snores escaping him. Shutting my eyes, I frown as thoughts of the evening news plagues my mind, and I'm unable to shake the uneasy feeling that comes over me. Shifting and drawing my legs up, I banish the negative thoughts and minutes later, I'm finally able to surrender to the peaceful arms of oblivion.

~

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I roll over on my bed—a vague reminder that I'd come up to my room last night. Taking my fluffy pillow, I shove it over my head to muffle the unholy noise coming from somewhere. The sound stops and I smile slightly already drifting back off to sleep. Seconds later, it starts again, louder this time and I realize it's someone knocking on the front door.

Wait.

Jumping from my bed, I rush over to my door almost tripping over my rug in the process. Yanking open the door, I rush over to the stairs and hang onto the railing. Rick is already at the front door, clad in a pair of long checkered pajama bottoms and tight shirt. He opens the door, stifling a yawn. As the door opens, it reveals a police officer with his gun drawn and pointed at Rick. My heart begins to pound as I now hear the multiple police sirens coming from outside.

Quickly taking in Rick's bedraggled state, the cop takes out a pair of handcuffs. Grasping Rick's arm he turns him around roughly.

"What are you doing!" Rick yells as the cop wrenches Rick's hands behind him and cuffs them together.

"Richard Ortega you're under arrest for the murder of Allan Waters. You have a right to remain silent-" My eyes widen in horror and shock as my heart stops in my chest. Stumbling back as if I've been hit, I don't hear the rest of the officer's practiced speech, only his first words echoing in my head.

Murder.

It's with that word that the realization comes. Irrational thoughts. A frightening reality.

And how someone I've known my whole life, may not be who I thought they were.