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When I was thirteen years old, my brother and I lived in a small apartment with our parents on the outskirts of the city. My brother was a few years older than me, so he could drive and he had a girlfriend. There wasn't a lot of space in our apartment, so me and my brother shared a room. On this particular night, we were left home alone in the apartment while our parents went to visit some relatives who lived in the country.

I decided to stay out late with my friends that night. Somewhere around midnight, I got back and I was exhausted. I went right to my room when I saw my brother sleeping in his bed. I didn't want to wake him up, so I slowly crept to my bed and sat down, with the light still off. Right as I sat down, I heard my brother groan and he asked for a drink of water. I could tell he didn't want to get up, so I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water for him. I got back, gave him his water, and said goodnight.

I went to sleep and woke up at around 8 in the morning. Our parents still weren't back, but they said they would be back around noon, so I wasn't worried. I then looked over at my brother's bed but he wasn't there. I thought that he might've just gone to the kitchen to get something to eat.

I got up and immediately heard knocking at the front door. Strange, were my parents home early? I opened the door and there stood my brother. He said he stayed the night at his girlfriend's house. This sent shivers down my spine. I sprinted to our room and turned on the light. I looked at the desk that was in between our beds.

The glass of water stood untouched.