The night was dark and peaceful. No stars, but you couldn't expect much in the city--even as people ran out of money to pay their bills, light pollution does its job. We've destroyed this planet for good, it can only cling to the edge for so long.

That wasn't my problem though. If I didn't find a better way to steal food--heck, if I couldn't get food in the first place--I'd be dead long before the world ended. Right now it's dangerous to stay with these people. In their eyes I was at the bottom of the food chain. They'd get rid of me eventually. I just needed to wait for the right moment, then slip away while the others weren't watching...

"Ravin?"

The night tore itself apart, replaced with a burning pain that ate away at my ribs with each ragged breath. I opened my eyes, disconcerted. A young woman stared back at me. I frowned. Was she a part of the gang? And where were the others? I thought we were supposed to meet up at one of our safe houses...

I looked down, and the sight sent a flash of panic through me. A couple of towels were pressed into my bare side, soaked thoroughly with my own blood. It dripped steadily onto the wooden floor, joining a growing pool of the dark liquid.

Calm down, I told myself. I was still alive. I wasn't like the rest of them who Nox killed while breaking into a store. But just the thought of the gang leader made my skin crawl.

"They took whatever you stole," the woman said. She tipped the open end of a wine bottle onto a clean towel, wetting it. I wrinkled my nose as the sickly sweet smell invaded my nostrils. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I can see walls of shelves stocked full with liquor bottles, staring back at us. A liquor shop. I shifted uneasily against the desk I was propped up against, but the movement only intensified the pain. I hissed.

"If you think that hurt, you'll hate this," the woman remarked as she gently peeled away the towels from my chest. I fought down the nausea as I stared at the ugly wound. It looked deep. "But I need to disinfect it, alright? So hold still."

"Do I know you?"

Her hands stilled, then pulled back slightly from my wound. "It's really been that long, huh?" She glanced at me with a tired expression. That was when I got a good look at her face. Like a splash of cold water, I realized it was the same face that Dad would wear every time he stumbled home from work.

"Sama...No way..."

She still had Dad's long face, small nose and raven-dark eyes that the both of us shared. But she'd changed. There were deep shadows under her eyes that she'd usually conceal with makeup. Her hair was in knots and tangles, her clothes worn and dingy from wearing the same things every day. Even the leather jacket she sported was odd; the Sama I knew would never have worn something like that.

"Took you long enough," Sama said. I couldn't tell if she was bitter or amused. Maybe both. She started to pat my wound with the alcohol-soaked towel. I winced and squirmed at every touch, biting my lip as I tried to focus my thoughts elsewhere.

The last time I saw my sister, she had been kneeling beside Mom, struggling to hold in her tears. Mom had pleaded for Sama to look out for me--a request made with her dying breath. Like a fool, Sama had promised.

The same night, I had packed all of my things and left the house, unnoticed.

"What were you thinking?" Sama asked, bringing me back to the present. She started to bandage my torso. Everything about her was robotic and slow: her movements, her words, the way she blinked. "I knew you were an idiot, but joining a gang? You're lucky I found you."

"I didn't have a choice."

"Didn't have a choice?! You shouldn't have left in the first place!" Sama spat.

She didn't shout, but I shrank back, reminded of how Nox would throw a fit whenever a theft went wrong. He'd catch the guy who messed up, beat him, then kick him out to show what he was capable of. I hadn't known what I'd get myself into, but as long as I stuck to Nox's good side and did my part, I got food and a roof to sleep under. Sama wouldn't understand that.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, expecting an apology. She only continued to wrap the bandage around my torso, her expression stoic, even as my recoiled posture made it more difficult for her to patch up the wound.

"Not one, but two stabs," Sama muttered. "Like he wanted to kill you slowly."

I shivered. "Probably." Nox probably guessed I was planning to ditch them. Then I blinked. "You saw him? And how did you find me?"

"I heard about a gang of teenage shoplifters stirring up trouble in the city," she said drily. "You only stole from businesses around the area, so you didn't have access to transportation. Either that, or it was too dangerous for you to move." She shrugged. "I put two and two together and figured you'd take another stab at the grocery."

"So you followed me." I tried to remember exactly what happened after Nox stabbed me. There had been a lot of thrashing around and trading blows. I must have blacked out when Sama found me. No doubt they had left me to rot in some alleyway.

"It's a good thing I did, little brother," she said with a small smirk. Just like that, my gratitude melted away, replaced with annoyance.

Sama grunted and eased herself back. "It's not a great job, but that'll have to do for now." I gingerly touched my side. It still hurt, though the pain had lessened to a throb. Sama handed me back a wad of clean clothes. I frowned, but upon closer inspection I recognized my old shirt and hoodie. I must have left them back at home.

"Your old clothes were soaked in blood," Sama said.

Usually I cursed my permanent tiny size, but I was glad I hadn't grown out of my old clothes.

With her help, I slowly shrugged my clothes down, trying not to disturb my injured torso.

This odd sensation of comfort washed over me, and I swallowed. The last time I felt like this, Mom and Dad were healthy, Sama was selling her homemade jewelry and I didn't have to worry about the fact that there were too many people for the world to feed.

You would think the concept was straightforward: take what you need, and no more. But no one had understood the value of rationing. Instead, the rich had taken more than they needed and thrown the rest into landfills for the poor to pick up. Finally, at some point someone realized that food was not infinite.

I had known the world wasn't in a good place, but back then things were still okay. Mom and Dad had well-paying jobs. They promised that they'd save up so we could move out of the city to a safer place, maybe all the way to the remote countryside where we could grow our own little farm. 

But there was no use in dreaming about the past. My stomach growled. I wish I had taken a bite of the freshly baked bread I had stolen before Nox turned on me. I wish I had been the one to turn on them.

Sama scooted to sit beside me against the desk wall. An ambulance wailed in the distance, and its flashing lights illuminated the store for a brief moment. I crane my neck around the cashier desk to get a glimpse of the store's front windows, hoping to get a glimpse of the city. The windows were blocked by diamond-patterned fencing.* For protection against thieves like me, I thought grimly.

Asides from our quiet breathing, the shop was eerily silent. Shadows flitted in and out along the walls, moving behind the racks of bottled spirits as cars drove past outside. The shop felt too small and too big at the same time.

"Does it surprise you?" Her words were so faint I nearly missed them in the roar of the city night life. "That I'm selling the same thing that killed Dad?"

I shrugged uncomfortably. I actually hadn't thought of that. "I thought you would open a jewelry shop."

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Mm, but alcohol sells well at this time. Doesn't take a lot to make spoiled grapes, and you can literally charge anything."

"You have suppliers?" I asked incredulously. Barely anyone could find goods to ship, much less sell while resources were dwindling by the day. Either you were rich and influential, or you did business in the city's underworld. Nox and the rest of the gang had tried the latter, though we only proved to be a laughingstock. No one took a rowdy group of teenagers seriously, and for good reason.

"No one trustworthy," she murmured. "But they need someone with a creative spark for their schemes, so I'm in the clear for now."

She glanced at me. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

I wasn't a good liar, and Sama knew it too. But here was my older sister who had done all the chores, kept the crumbling family afloat and preached that we couldn't never, ever resort to crime, no matter how loudly our stomachs would complain at night. Even Sama had turned into a hypocrite.

Not that it's a total surprise, I reflected. But it's another reminder of the things we lost in order to keep on living.

"So, what's been up with my little brother?" Sama nudged me, but it came off as forced lightheartedness. I couldn't help but notice her flat, monotone voice. It was so unlike the snarky, confident sister I was used to.

"Nothing much," I said eventually. "Just...the usual." She had to know, right? The lengths I'd gone to survive. "What do you do? Make shady business deals with people you don't know?"

"Hardly. I sleep on a bed of cash and drink all of my worries away." Sama's face turned serious. "You don't have to push me away, Ravin. I won't pretend to understand what your life is like, but..." She let out a defeated sigh. "I thought about you every day, Ravin. I was so worried."

"I thought you were dead."

"Sometimes I did, too." Sama paused. "I guess death runs in the family."

It was too painful to talk about Mom and Dad. The thought of our parents hung in the air, suspended, and silent. I looked away.

My mouth refused to say the thing that's on my mind. Was Sama mad at me? She wasn't acting like it, but I kept replaying her words from earlier: "You shouldn't have left in the first place!" How did she feel after I left her alone? She thought of me, but never had I spent a second wondering if she was even alive.

Did it matter, though? An unexpected wave of bitterness took over me. Sama had cared for Dad, then Mom. She was there for me sometimes, but it hadn't been enough.

"I understand, Ravin," she said a moment after. "Why you joined them. You surrounded yourself with others, but ultimately you felt alone."

Her voice cracked. When I turned to look at her, tears streamed down her face. Alarmed, I frantically searched for a napkin or something before hesitantly wiping her face with my own hands.

"It's not your fault," I told her, but the tears kept coming. "I shouldn't have left you and Mom like that. It's not your fault," I repeat.

Sama never cried. Ever. The only exceptions were when Dad and Mom died.

My breath caught as the truth hit me. She had thought I was dead. All these years I had spent worrying over food and getting arrested, all these years I hadn't given my sister a moment's worth of thought, Sama had been crying over me. Because of me.

"What would Mom and Dad say if they saw us now?" she sobbed. "We were supposed to be family. And now...we don't even know each other."

My heart skipped a beat, and I fumbled for something to say. "Sama, look at me. I'm alive! I'm alive, and I'm here now, so it'll be okay, okay? We'll get to know each other again, and...and..." I'll be here for you, so don't you worry.

I couldn't say that though. Who was I kidding? I wouldn't know the first thing about being there for someone. I was the kid who ran away when things got tough. I was the kid who couldn't bother to even think about my sister because it hurt too much. Even now, watching Sama sit there, rocking and wailing was more agonizing than any stab wound Nox could ever give.

Stop crying, I wanted to tell her. Why are you still crying? Nothing good comes out of it. Stop crying, Sama. It only makes both of us feel worse.

There weren't any words I could use to comfort her, and I couldn't bring myself to offer her a hug. I settled for rubbing her back. Back when I'd been hit with a nasty cough, Sama had done the same to me.

Gradually, Sama's sobbing eased, and I found my heart being able to do the same. She blinked away her tears and looked up at me. "I failed you."

"You saved me," I insisted. "That's more than enough." And now I would do everything I could to repay her. No, not repay her. That wasn't how family worked. But I owed it to love and be there for Sama. I was her brother, and I wasn't going to leave my sister again.

Sama mustered a trembling smile. "I'm so glad," she whispered in a strained voice.

To my horror, she doubled over and coughed. Blood splattered onto the floor.

"Sama!" I helped her lean against the wall, but she grimaced in pain. She coughed again, and I barely noticed the flecks of blood that appeared on my hoodie as my sister clutched her shoulder. Dark red began to bloom through the leather jacket.

"I'm so glad," she repeated as I hastily peeled it off to reveal the wound underneath. Blood oozed out of a long, diagonal cut that stretched from her shoulder to her chest. Her shirt was caked in red.

Nausea hit me. I was launched into the past, back to the moments after I blacked out. I laid unconscious on the ground as Sama found me surrounded by my assailants. She found me...and then Nox--

Bandages. I needed bandages, something to stop my sister from bleeding to death. I found a wad of clean cloth, and my hands fumbled to unravel it and wrap it around her wound. It soaked through in seconds.

This couldn't be real.

Sama watched me as my hands flapped around uselessly, trying to help her. "Ravin...It's okay. You don't need to do anything."

"Sama, why didn't you tell me?" I shouted. Now I understood how she felt, why she snapped. "You should've told me!"

"There were lots of things I didn't tell you," she murmured, and her eyes started to gloss over. "I thought you didn't need to know how bad the real world was. I didn't want to lose my innocent little brother."

I shook my head. "We need an ambulance," I said, even as I knew it was futile. "I can...I can..." I looked around the otherwise empty store, searching for something, or anyone who could help us. Outside, cars honked and sirens blared, but we may as well be in a different world.

Every thought in my head screamed to do something. Sama saved me; I had to save her. I curled my hands into fists. My body shifted, and I started to get up, but Sama touched my hand.

"Don't be mad," she whispered. I felt another wave of anger take hold of me.

"I'm not mad at you, Sama."

"I know, Ravin. You're mad at the world. But don't blame anyone, okay? When I saw you, all I could think was I didn't want to lose you." Her voice shook, and her hand reached up to clasp mine. I squeezed it tight. "I'm tired of this, Ravin. I'm so tired."

Before I hadn't questioned the things we did to survive. We did what we needed to do, and that was that. But now, sitting with my sister on the floor of her liquor store, I realized how exhausting it was, taking from others just to see another day. How familiar loss has become in our lives. And now, I was about to lose yet another person that I loved.

"I love you." The words came out barely audible, tumbling clumsily off my tongue. I wished I had said it more. "Please don't go."

"Go...? Go where?"

I couldn't answer.

"Let's go home, Ravin. I miss home..."

Sama gave a shuddering breath. Her eyes became unfocused, and her body went slack. Through my blurry vision, it was all I could do to stop her from tilting to the floor.

Home? There was no home for me to go to, now that my sister was gone.

I've been gripping Sama's hand for so long that it hurt. Slowly, I untwined my fingers from hers and sat back, blinking away my tears. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine better times, hear my sister's last words again. All that came to mind was a black square, devoid of warmth.

I got up and stumbled down the hall leading to the shop's back room. My torso screamed, but I ignored it, refusing to let the pain slow me down. I flipped the light switch on. Going through the stacks of cardboard boxes, I grabbed whatever could be useful to me--a blanket, some plastic bags to keep food in, a phone charger. It seemed that Sama had left most of her old belongings here from university. Several times I had to stop and breathe for the sake of my wound. I stuffed my findings into an old backpack, and swung it over my shoulder.

Back at the cashier desk, I yanked open the cashier and buried the rolls of money into the bottom of the backpack. These were the hard-earned dollars that people exchanged for a bottle of spirits. I fought down my revulsion, both at the customers and myself.

Finally, I draped a spare blanket over my sister, covering the ugly wound. I stepped back. Leaning against the wall, with only blood and dirty first aid supplies keeping her company, she didn't look like she was sleeping. She looked tired, bruised and alone.

"I'll make it up to you," I told her. I didn't know what my next course of action was, or what I was even promising. Nox's face flashed before my eyes, but he wouldn't be enough to bring Sama back. I gripped onto my anger anyway. It was better than the hollow ache threatening to consume me.

I grabbed the keys from the desk and unlocked the door, then the diamond-grated gate. Shut them. Locked them from the outside. I tried to peer in the shop, but I couldn't make out anything in the darkness except the sliver of light coming from the back room. That was okay. The least I could do is leave Sama with some light.

In the eyes of the city, I was a shopkeeper closing up for the night. To me, it was shutting out the world, and leaving behind the only person I cared about.