When I get to my room I go to bed, curl up under the blankets and float in and out of sleep. Listen to Sammy mucking round with Wacker. Dribble. I can feel it move out of the corner of my mouth and down the side of my chin. Dribble dribble. The pillow's getting pretty wet but there's nothing I can do about it. I have no energy to swallow, to shift my body into another position. I can hear Sammy yelling at Wacker, 'ye bludy mungril sit ye bludy mungril' and Wacker jumps and grabs him round the throat. I try to walk towards them but the air's all this heavy water, it's pushing against me. My body feels like a lump and I'm lumping slowly towards them but it's too late.
Wacker pulls away from Sam with a huge chunk of flesh. I watch as my brother's head falls backwards, the red wound's like a hinge. And there he is, standing with no head. Blood's not pouring everywhere though. I think this is strange, why isn't the blood shooting out like a waterspout. Maybe that means I can save him. Like all his blood hasn't gone yet, none's gone, so he's not dead right? So I can save him.