THE BAKER HOUSE

Don raced to the porch.

" CHARLIE!" he screamed again, " BUDDY, WHERE ARE YOU!"

Nothing but the wind answered. Don leaped over the porch steps and stopped, barely. Right in front of him was a huge hole where Charlie used to be standing.

" Oh, God, CHARLIE?" Don yelled down in the whole kneeling next to it, " Charlie, answer me!"

Charlie, didn't answer though. Don felt sick to his stomach. His mind was screaming for an answer. Charlie had been here, and then the hole. Charlie, he couldn't have... He had to have jumped out of the way. Don pictured his little brother jumping clear of the hole. But every time he did, he pictured the other option as well.

" Charlie," he mumbled.

" DON, what the HE... Oh, Shit!" Tom said running up to catch Don, " Where's Charlie?"

" I...I d-don't know," Don muttered and suddenly he snapped.

" This is YOUR FAULT!" he yelled slamming Tom into the porch post, fist ready, " IF YOU HAD KEPT YOUR MOUTH SHUT!"

" YOU DIDN'T STOP ME!" Tom screamed back struggling, " You went along with it!"

" I...!" Don stopped. He had gone along with it. He had let Tom act like such a jerk to his brother. He did. It was HIS fault. The thought made him sick.

" Go home, Tom," Don said dangerously letting Tom go, " Go home."

" Whatever," Tom said running as fast as he could.

Don stared after him. Angry with himself, angry with Tom, angry at everyone. That was everyone except Charlie.

Don turned to face the hole. He had to find Charlie. A sudden crack sounded behind him. The distinct crack of branches breaking under footsteps.

" Charlie?" Don called out relieved.

Turning around he came face to face with a flashlight.

" Ahh," Don called covering his eyes.

" Quiet, kid, I'm not going to hurt you," a grim voice called out.

Don squinted from the light. A tall, thin, gangly man stood holding the flashlight. Next to him was Charlie.

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