I tried my best to stay calm as I tried to shake my brother awake. But, no matter how hard I shook him, he didn't budge.

"Jake!" I yelled again.

Getting nowhere, I immediately felt my heart begin to drop as I slowly reached for his neck to feel for a pulse.

"Thank god!" I cried out when I felt his heart beating slowly.

Not wanting to leave him on the floor, I carefully lifted him from the floor, carried him slowly to his bed, and laid him down gently. I thought back to the one other time I'd seen Jake collapse, and my mind began wondering if somehow everything that was happening could be connected.

Is this possible? I kept wondering while I sat next to my helpless and unconscious brother. Stay calm, Ray. I told myself. Think about this. You're good at doing that, so just think. My mind and heart racing, I ran through the events of the past 3 days. Jake was acting weird, then he was fine the next day. But, after that, things went downhill.

I made mental notes at any similarities between each crazy event. I started with the seizure. He was ok until he went upstairs. I remembered. And then, it hit me. Bingo! Every time he's in here, something else happens!

With this revelation, I began to search Jake's room for any more clues. I found an old looking pen, the creepy journal he was always reading, and a sticky note that had an odd-looking symbol that resembled a star. I put together all the clues on his desk and decided to start with the sticky note. Looking it over, I saw my brothers familiar handwriting under the star and read his note.

It said "important: anti-" but he hadn't finished writing the rest. Anti what? I shoved the note aside and looked at the pen.

Nothing special here. I thought as I looked at a blue and gold felt-tip pen. Just a fancy pen. It probably belonged to one of his teachers. I laughed at the idea of Jake taking a worthless pen from his mean and cranky math teacher Miss Dodd. One point for team Jake. I laughed mentally.

I set the pen aside and looked at the beaten, old looking journal. It had a brown cover that looked worn from its age, and it had no writing on the front to indicate it was a book.

I flipped the cover open and read a small note that said: "do not read this book!". Shrugging off the warning, I saw a smaller note written in different writing. This one read "property of Thomas. T." Something about the name felt familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I thought maybe it belonged to someone from his school, so I tried to remember the names of the few people I'd met when I'd signed Jake up for Shining Cross. But, thinking back, none of them were named Thomas. So who was he?

I slammed the book shut and looked over to my still unconscious brother. Please, wake up.

I mentally willed his eyes to open, hoping that maybe somehow mentally willing him awake would work, while at the same time I knew it was a stupid idea. And I hated knowing that it wouldn't work.

With a sigh of defeat, I walked back over to his side and tried to figure out what to do. He was obviously ok, aside from being unconscious, and the last thing I planned on doing was freaking out. But, I kept fearing the worst. And I kept feeling bad for keeping Jaime in the dark. But, I knew it was the right thing to do.

If I told Jaime, she'd freak out and probably demand that I do something stupid. Something like call the police.

There was a reason I thought calling the police was stupid. It was stupid because they couldn't help him, so the hours of wasted time would be for nothing. And my mind kept going back to the other night when he had panicked at the idea of seeing doctors. I couldn't hurt him by forcing him to see them. I couldn't ever hurt my brother period, I loved him too much. And seeing him weak, helpless, and unconscious on his bed caused me more agony than anything in the world.

I sat down next to him, and put my hand on his. In the movies, they make it like every person in the world is too tough to be bothered when someone the main character loves gets hurt. Instead of truly caring, and spending time with the loved one, the main character will waste time plotting revenge. In my mind, revenge is a stupid excuse for avoiding the person who was hurt. And that's because most of the time if you look back, it's usually the main character's fault that their loved one got hurt in the first place. So, they avoid them to avoid guilt and shame.

I looked at Jake's face closely, and I felt like I'd never really seen how truly peaceful he looked when he slept. But, something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And I needed him to wake up.

"Jake," I said quietly. "I don't know if you can hear me. I don't even know if you want to. But I want you to know that... No matter what happens... I'm here for you. I love you."

After a few seconds, Jake finally began to stir.

"Jake?" I leaned back, just in case he felt uncomfortable with me so close.

He jumped up and began breathing heavily.

"Hey, it's ok!" I put my hand on his shoulder. "You're ok. I'm right here."

He took deep breaths before looking directly at me. When he spoke, he sounded parched. And unusually different.

"Reagan, I'm so sorry." He sighed.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said as I rubbed his shoulder. "Let me get you something to drink, ok?"

He nodded slowly and I ran downstairs quickly to grab his drink. I didn't want to spend any unnecessary time away from him, so I poured the water jug a little too fast into the cup and water spilled all over the counter.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed. "Whatever, I'll clean it up later."

I forced my heart to slow down before carefully jogging upstairs with Jakes drink.

As I was handing it to him, I noticed that his hands were shaking violently. It brought back horrible memories. No. Not again. I thought with dread.

I slowly backed away so that, if he did have another repeat of the other night, at least I would be a safe distance away.

"What's wrong?" He asked after taking a long gulp of water.

"Nothing." I lied. "Better?"

"Lots. Thank you." He smiled and put the cup down on his nightstand.

"No problem," I said flatly.

Every bone in my body screamed that something was wrong. I could just feel it in my gut that something very bad was going to happen. But, why? And if something was going to happen, then what?

"What's up with you?" Jake asked with a frown.

"Huh?" I acted like I hadn't been paying attention.

"What's wrong?" He asked again.

"Oh!" I acted surprised. "Sorry. I'm just really stressed. I'll be fine!"

His black eyebrows formed a deep crease in-between his eyes, and his lips were in the shape of a frown. Damn it, he knew I was lying.

"Your lying." He said in a rough voice. "I can tell."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "And how can you tell?"

He sighed in frustration and his expression changed from frustrated to worried.

"Please, just tell me what's wrong." He begged.

Since we had been kids, Jake had always known what to do to make me give in when he wanted something. All he had to do was put on his worried face, and I'd do anything to make him happy. Because I couldn't stand seeing him worried or upset. It caused me physical pain.

So seeing him with that familiar worried expression was enough to send me over the edge. I ran to him and hugged him as tightly as I could as I broke down in tears.

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed. "This is all my fault!"

"What's all your fault?" He asked.

I pulled away and composed myself before speaking. I explained everything. I told him about my dreams, I told him about the seizure, and I told him about something else. Something I'd been denying. Recently, I'd almost lost my job. It had been a serious wake-up call. That was the reason I'd been trying to sell everything I possibly could. Because there was no way I was going to let my brother live in the street because of me.

"You think I care about money or where we live?" He asked after I told him everything.

"I just want you to have the best of everything, Jake. Even if it kills me, I'll always put you first." I said, tears streaming down my face.

"I don't want the best!" He exclaimed. "I just want you! My sister! The only person that truly loves me!"

"Jake, that's not true," I argued. "Jaime loves you so much. I know she does. Even if she doesn't say it, I'll bet you anything it's because she's just too shy to."

"Reagan, I believe you. But honestly, I'm scared of losing you more then I fear to lose her." He put his hand on mine.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because there are tons of other girls that look just as pretty as Jaime." He scoffed. "And sure I love her for more than her looks, but so what? Can she love me the way you do?"

"What the...." I trailed off, taken aback by what he'd just said. What exactly had he fucking meant by that? The way I do? The fuck did that mean?

"There are plenty of girls out there for me. But in the end, only one of them will be the one I love the most." He said after I remained silent.

"So, what are you saying?" I asked.

"That I only get one sister. So I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna care about anyone more than her." He said calmly.

I felt so touched that I couldn't speak. The words that had just come out of my brother's mouth meant so much to me that I almost felt like crying. Did he really mean it when he said that? Despite everything? Was I really the person he cared for most? Though, the way he'd said it was... strange.

"I don't know what to say besides thank you. You saying that means so much to me." I said after I had a few minutes to compose myself.

"I mean it, Ray." He said with a loving smile.

It was the first time my brother had used my nickname when talking to me, and that immediately threw me off guard. No. This is wrong. I thought. Jake never calls me Ray, that's a Jaime and Michael thing.

"Um...." I froze as an icy cold rush of fear pulsed through my veins.

"Yes?" He raised his eyebrow and gave me a suspicious stare.

"I... I have to..." I stuttered while trying to come up with a decent excuse to run out of the room.

"What's wrong?" He asked in a voice as sharp as steel.

I'm scared! I'm scared! I fought to keep a blank face as a sharp pain in my head formed as I stood up and slowly began walking toward his door.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

The scary monster is going to hurt me! I'm scared! A small voice shrieked in my head.

The sharp pain in my head grew so painful it caused me to double over. I put my hands to my head and gritted my teeth as the small voice in my head kept screaming. Help me! He's going to hurt me! He's going to hurt Jake! I'm scared!

"SHUT UP!" I screamed as the pain in my head grew to a whole new level that was so unbearable my eyes began to water with tears. And the laughter. Oh, that sick and evil laughter. It was enough to make me go insane.

Then suddenly, the laughing turned into an ear-piercing ringing that caused me so much pain I wished I could die. Just end it. I begged.

I fell onto the floor in agony, and the last thing I saw before blacking out was a pair of feet walking past me.

I found myself unable to move as I slowly regained consciousness. But, as I woke up, I felt myself being dragged across the cold floor. I was so weak, so tired, and so scared. I tried to open my eyes, but I just couldn't keep them open.

As I faded in and out of consciousness, I heard voices. The only thing I could tell was that one was definitely a male and the other female. From what I could tell, they were in the middle of a conversation.

"And I know that!" The male voice sounded angry.

"I hear you, Jake." The female responded sheepishly.

Jake? What was he talking about? Who was he talking to?

When I woke up, I found myself on the living room couch. Scared and confused, I looked around the room to try and gather my thoughts. Everything came flooding back to me.

I remembered trying to leave Jake's room, I remembered the horrible ringing, the small voice I kept hearing, and Jake. At first, I panicked, worried that he'd been hurt. But it didn't take long for me to remember why I'd been leaving his room in the first place.

All of the memories came back the second I opened my eyes. And, at the same time as I remembered everything, I realized that I wasn't alone.

"Reagan, thank god!" Jake cried as he ran to my side.

I began hyperventilating in fear, thinking he was going to hurt me and tried to back away from him.

"Hey, it's ok," Jaime said as she walked closer.

Jake was now sitting in front of me, and Jaime was standing beside me.

"Are you ok, Ray?" She asked.

Pure disgust ran through me at the sound of my nickname. Not because of Jaime, but because that evil creature had called me that before trying to kill me.

"Don't ever call me that again," I said angrily.

"Whoa... ok." She looked taken aback.

"I'm sorry." I took a deep breath to calm myself and tried to maintain my cool.

"It's ok. But seriously, are you ok?" She asked in a concerned voice.