Shattered

It was dark, and I was cold. So, so cold. I was wandering through a wooded area and my breath was short. That was when I heard it.
It was an awful kind of sobbing- it was ugly and sound contorted and animalistic. It seemed almost unnatural and inhuman. It was so, so, so rigid. Now, I'm not saying this in a cruel or mean way; I simply mean that it sounded real. This sobbing sounded so broken and full of grief. It was the crying of a ghost, a mere shell. They were once a person, I assumed... but how can someone so broken keep on living? They were dead now- maybe not physically, but figuratively. Figuratively dead was something so much worse to be. Because you're still breathing, you still existing, and you're partially feeling- although you're numb now, you're mind and heart are still being tortured.
I know that it's cruel of me to sit there and listen to it, but I couldn't seem to tear myself away from it. I felt so compelled to sit and listen.
I do not really know how else to explain it.
"I'm sorry." I heard them say. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry!" I heard footsteps approaching and I quickly ducked behind a tree. The footsteps stopped and as carefully as I could, I peeked around the flaking bark and instantly recognized the figure. It was my brother.
I did not know how to respond to it. So I didn't. I stood there absolutely dumb-founded and something along the lines of frozen.
Wyaat's forehead glistened in the moonlight and his hands were trembling furiously. His whole body shook like a leaf. His lips kept moving and forming words, however, no sound could be heard. He then touched his middle and index fingers of his right hand to his forehead and in a downward motion to his sternum, then from his left shoulder, he motioned to the right.
Wyaat was praying.
He only prayed when he does something bad.
Something really, really bad.
Wyaat did do something bad.
I looked to Wyaat's hands and noticed that they were stained and he had blood all over his white shirt.
I stepped out from around the tree. "W-what did you do..." I whisper. Wyaat didn't look up. He stayed there, head lowered, lips moving with no sound. "What did you do!" I screamed. Still nothing. I rushed up to him and shoved him with all my might, trying to get some sort of response out of him. "Wyaat!!! What did you do?!" I screamed. I shoved him again and then yanked him by his shirt. He fell to his knees, as if unfazed by the contact. In fact, it was as though he didn't feel it at all. Wyaat seemed as though he was disconnected from his own body. I kneeled down next to him, and grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "WYAAT, WHAT DID YOU DO! WHAT DID YOU DO?"
Then slowly, almost unnaturally, he looked up at me, his brown eyes meeting mine, he simply says, "Harry did it."
Then suddenly, Wyaat was gone, and I was at the front door of my house. The house I grew up in. There were police all around it. The door swung open, nearly hitting me, and four officers holding two boys came barging out. One of the boys was Wyaat.
They had Wyaat.
"Wyaat!" I screamed. "Wyaat!" I ran after him but was too late. They threw him in the back of the car and speed off.
"Wyaat! Wyaat!!!" I screamed. I ran and ran. Everything was going black, but the only thing I could hear was my voice screaming his name, over and over.
"Rebecca!"
"COME BACK!"
"Rebecca, wake up!"
"What did you do?!"
"REBECCA, IT'S JUST A DREAM, WAKE UP!"
In a flash, my eyes shot open. I was back in my bed in the house at the end of Fifth street. I felt my cheeks burning as tears streamed down them. I was trembling violently. I felt a pair of arms around me and another rubbing my back in a soothing manner. It was then I noticed the boys' presence. Liam and Niall were sat on either side of me, a look of worry and exhaustion decorating their features. It was then that I also crashed. I fell into Liam's arms and wept and wept and wept. They both took turns holding me, but neither could really soothe me in any way- but I wouldn't tell them that, however.
At some point, I did manage to settle down some and they took me down to the living room, which was cleaned up and had its new set of furniture. The house smelled like fresh paint and leather, and the wooden floors had been all mopped up. These boys really meant business. They weren't kidding when they said they were going to impress Schuller.
They told me to sit down on the couch, I did as I was told and they brought me out a blanket and some tea.
"Schuller is coming in two days.." Began Liam.
I nod.
"I really don't like e'r." Niall comments. Liam shoots him a stern look. I look about the main room. When I was first here, there were few pieces of furniture, the windows were boarded up and it was dusty. Now, there was two sofas, a coffee table, and armchair and frame with random photos. There was a t.v. mounted on the wall with two small wall-mounted shelves situated beneath it with some film cases..
The main entry hallway- which stretched all the way to the kitchen- was swept and dusted with more frames hung on the wall along with an older looking tapestry. These boys did alright. The banister had been fixed, the wooden floors were swept and mopped, curtains were put up and an air freshener plugged into the wall to rid the house of its musty odor.
They were trying.
"So, would you choose to stay with us?" Liam finally asks.
I nod. "If you would have me," I say. And the three of us sat there, sipping our tea and looking about the room. . .
Home, I thought.

Notes

So... how was this? Are you guys excited because I really am. And thanks a million for the votes!