Although the orange cast of the sunset is warm and gentle, it does little to comfort me.
I stand at the edge of the precipice, staring out at the red-orange valley. Long shadows stretch from jagged wind-scraped rock formations and dark, pointed trees as the light slowly dims. A dark, winding river bleeds out from a nearby canyon, winding its way to a dark pooling lake. A soft breeze tugs on my hair and a piece of my soul is carried away with it. I should have found majesty in this view. Instead, I feel nothing. Nothing but emptiness.
I do not look behind me. I tell myself that what lies back there never happened. That it was just a dream or that I just imagined it. With my eyes forward, I can almost believe those lies. I can almost believe that I hadn’t stood a mere ten yards from where I stand now. That I hadn’t looked my own brother in the eye. And that I hadn’t pulled the trigger.
I slump onto my knees, a tear finally sliding down my face as the reality settles in. I let out a shaky sob. I know what I did was right, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels so wrong. My soul is tormented by a thousand questions and I wonder if I could have made some choice in the past to prevent my brother from going rogue. If there’s anything I could have done.
The sky has darkened to a cooling purple and I feel utterly hopeless. The agony is unlike anything I’ve ever known and it rips into my heart. I let out an anguished scream that echoes across the valley and I feel the canyons echo my cry. The sound bounces between the darkening canyons and slowly fades but my pain remains fresh. The wound in my chest doesn’t fade or weaken. This suffering will never leave me. I will bear this burden for the rest of my life.
A sharp gust of wind –this time colder– whispers to me, telling me that I don’t have to feel this pain, telling me that I don’t have to bear this burden, and that I can leave this memory behind. I can leave this world behind and be completely forgotten. No more pain. No more suffering. No, more, me. I know the wind is wrong, but in this moment its chilling voice feels so right. It would take so little effort to let this moment disappear.
Perhaps God is real, and I will see my little brother again. Not as he was when he died, but as he was when we were young. As he was when we played games in the hills and when we worked in the stables with our Pa. We could meet as angels and ascend to heaven together with our Ma and Pa. But this hope is impossible. If God is real then I will be damned. He would not want the soul of a man who murdered his own brother. If God is real then I will spend eternity burning in Hell and I will deserve it.
I lean forward and crawl over to the edge of the cliff and gaze over.The sun has set completely now and all I see beneath me is a dark abyss. Whether I would fall into nothingness or into the depths of Hell, I would take anything over the dagger in my heart. The cold wind whistles through crevices in the stone and calls for me to simply lean forward a little more. I shift my hands slightly and a few pebbles slide loose, crackling like a fire as they tumble into the void below. I lean over the darkness when a small, still voice stops me. The voice is so soft I almost miss it. I pull back from the ledge in bewilderment and glance around to see where it came from. When I don’t see anyone I think it must have been the wind but then I hear it again. Still confused, I look around again and my eyes rest on a shadowy form roughly thirty yards away.
I rise to my feet, passing my revolver as I walk, the pale moonlight reflecting off the silvery surface. A moment later I bend down over my brother’s corpse. It’s hard to make out all the details in the darkness but his features are familiar to me. Another broken sob escapes me and time is lost to me as I hold his body. Old memories of comforting him as a child when he had nightmares or listening to our Ma sing him to sleep with warming lullabies. The words of Amazing Grace come to my mind.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

Emotions war within me as I hum my mother’s songs. Loss and sorrow carve a pit into my chest and rip through my soul as the joyful memories of my family strain to comfort me. As I finish the song I hear the small voice once again. Though it carries no words I feel a sense of peace and warmth. The voice is familiar and I finally recognize it. I am embraced in a warm hug by a translucent form and I cry into its shoulders. My brother does not speak as I hold him but I feel his love and forgiveness in his grip. He will never need to run from the law again. My brother’s soul is at peace, and so is mine.

I wake just before dawn the next morning. By the time the sun peeks above the horizon his body rests beneath a mound of red stones. My heart still aches but I return to my home. Although I will miss him for the rest of my life, I find peace knowing that one day I will see my brother once again.