The Gate

The snow is cold. I can feel my hands and feet going numb even if they're covered in three layers of cotton material. I've heard there was going to be a storm – no one was stupid enough to go outside in a storm. Well… two maybe. My little brother, Franz and myself. I could see the scenery from the snowy hills, and so could he as he held my hand. I look down on him – he's only eleven. Short light Blonde hair and blue eyes. Compare to me with my shaggy dark brown hair and hazel eyes; you would've thought I was just a carer. Half right.
His father –my step dad- was killed in the war, he was a soldier. My dad was murdered for reasons I'm not allowed to know. Our mum… I rather not talk about.
My last memory of her was with tears running her eyes.
But now the two of us were at a campsite. There were enemy soldiers patrolling it and there's a thick tall gate around it. It reminds you why you're here and why you deserve to stay. I grip my hands tightly – thinking why this happened to us?
"Big brother." I hear Franz saying. I forgot I was holding his hand so I loosen my grip and look down at him. His innocent eyes looked at mine. "Is something wrong?" I shake my head.
"Nothing you should worry about." I answer looking back at the scenery. With my left I point to the scenery. "Do you see that?" I was pointing to the gate. Franz nods. "That's where we need to go."
"Is that possible?"
"Why? Don't you trust your big bro?" I ask with a faint smile.
"I do, but it's those men I'm worried about." He sounded scared. I don't blame him.
"Don't worry about a thing- we won't let those big men gets us, ok?" I say, comforting him. He doesn't give me a smile so I put in a headlock and give him a noogie. "Not gonna let some stupid soldiers get us are we?"
"No! No!" He cries laughing, trying to get out of my headlock. I let go of him.
"Ok?" I asked as I hunched down to his height. He nods. "Now come on."  I walk down the hill and he follows after me. I never notice how cold it was getting as I gotten used to seeing my breath. I then remember something.
It was when I was eight. I was with my biological dad, and it was eight years before the war, five months before his death. I remember the smell because he lit a cigarette. Mum got annoyed at him when he smoked, even when she was nowhere to be found she knew he smoked from the smell. It was winter morning and dad took me to the markets. As we did our shopping I saw graffiti on the walls. Some were anti- war slogans while the rest were just random symbols.
"Some day boy." Dad talked to me in his thick accent. "Some day this monstrosity shall begin and do you know where we'll be?" I shook my head. "We'll be in the country, without a care in the world. In a nice small holiday home and it'll just be the three of us- you your wonderful mother and me." What he said about a home in the country was nearly right. Just wasn't going to be with him.
"Big brother!" I turn to see Franz who was nearly out of sight due to the heavy snowing. I must have walked quickly when my mind trailed off. I walk towards him, remembering why he held onto my hand. He wasn't the fastest when it came to walking.
"Sorry." I say putting out my hand. He grabbed on to it instantly.
"I hate it when you walk fast." Franz said pouting as we started walking again.
"It's force of habit." I said.
"Well I bet if it weren't for me, you'd be there by now."
"I can still get there at the same amount of time even with you."
"How do you know?"
"Well people say it takes five minutes to get from the campsite to those hills and how long has it taken us?" Franz thought on it.
"Five minutes?"
"Exactly, and it takes twenty minutes altogether to get to the gate from the site, so we'll be there in a few minutes." Franz smiles at me. I'm glad he does. It always reminds me of our mum's smile. I found it a shame was that besides his lips, he looked like his dad. I never hated the guy but he wasn't father of the year material. But it was for mum. Without my dad she was a wreck and I wasn't enough to support her. She needed someone and Franz's father was that man. I still remember our first meeting. He was in military uniform and looked like he didn't know how to smile. I thought maybe teasing him by making the same expression and stood up straight like the soldiers do but all I got was a mean glare. It was too easy to tell we didn't like each other but we both did it for mum's sake. He started to like me a couple of years after Franz was born. Maybe it was because I matured.   
"Hey, big bro," Franz began. "Is it true on what those men back there said about our mum? About her being a-"
"Of course not!" I interrupt before Franz says anything further. "Those guys were jackasses and you shouldn't listen to them!" I was mad he'd believe something like that about our mum but I was madder at the men who said it. When we were taken to the camp, three men knew by looking at Franz that our mum had married a solider and stated saying that our mum must have been easy to get to. I wanted to beat the living crap out of them but I restrained myself, for Franz's sake. "Why did you even think of something like that?" Franz doesn't say anything. He looked upset- not meaning to do any harm. I sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled. But don't ever think of mum like that- she was broken-hearted and depressed and your dad helped her get back on her feet. But you know?" Franz looked up to hear what I was going to say next. "I think it was you that made her happier. After you were born, she had her old smile back and acted how she did with my old man." Franz seemed happy about that but then his expression changed.
"Then why did she…?" he didn't finished his sentence. But I knew what he was going to say.
"I guess… she just couldn't stand being alone again." My tone is flat. The two men she loved were gone, and the way she was acting… If only she could've lasted that little longer.
"Bro!" Franz snaps me out of my thoughts and we suddenly hear gunshots. We were only distances away from the patrolling area and there we saw- the soldiers were shooting at a rebelled group.
"What luck." I say.
"Well, what should we do?" Franz asks me. I take a bit to think about it. It's stupid to go straight for the gate; we'll be gunned down instantly. Damn, I should've put in more thought in this.
"I don't know," I say sighing, feeling defeated.
"Well, if we use those metal sheets as shields, we'll be able to get to the gate in no time." Franz says pointing to some metal trash in part. That was definitely something I'd never think of so I nod in agreement. We get four of the biggest ones we could get our hands on and could carry, and with electric tape found we make thick handles so we didn't hold the sides, we were ready. And we make a run for it.

                                                                                 …

It's been ten years after our escape. The war is over and I'm living in a small town. Every day as I walk from work to home, I go to see my brother's grave. I regret what happened that day but I knew he'd never leave without me. He died of his bullet wounds while I was shot at the chest. The rebelled group had few survivors but when they got out so did we. It still haunts me to this day but the one thing I was thankful for… was that my older brother at least lived to see the town I now grew up in. I was upset to see him close his eye and never open them again but I was happy that he didn't die alone like our parents did. I hated that thought and if it happened I'd never forgive myself. But I know one thing for sure –

                                               The big men never got me, and they never will.