20/08/2025
EPISODE ONE – MY BROTHER’S BLOOD
I watched my brother bleed to death without lifting a finger.
His hands trembled as he pressed them against the wound in his stomach, his eyes wide with disbelief. His voice cracked when he whispered, “King… why?”
I didn’t answer. What was there to say? Words could never undo the years of silence nor the years of being nothing more than a shadow while he was the favored son.
As he gasped for air, his blood spreading across the tiled floor like spilled wine, I stood still. Not because I was shocked. Not even because I was afraid. But because this was the moment I had waited for all my life.
And for the first time, I felt peace.
But you must understand, this did not begin tonight.
No. This story started long ago. Long before the knife pierced his flesh. Long before I learned how to smile at my twin brother in the daylight and curse his very existence in the dark.
We were twins, yes, twins, born only minutes apart. Identical faces and identical smiles. But our mother? she never saw us as equals.
Her heart, her eyes, her every word, they all belonged to Kingsley.
When Kingsley cried as a child, she rushed to soothe him.
When I cried, she snapped, “You’re the older one, Kingston. You’re a man. Stop acting like a baby.”
When Kingsley brought home average grades, she celebrated him as though he had conquered the world.
But when I brought home straight A’s, all I got was, “That’s what I expect from you. Or should I kill a cow because you passed?”
One time, she even switched my grades for Kingsley’s just so my father would buy him the bicycle he had been begging for.
Do you know what it feels like to do everything right and still be invisible?
To breathe every single day in the shadow of someone who looks exactly like you?
I loved Kingsley. I truly did. But every time my mother’s hand caressed his cheek with tenderness and skipped mine, something dark took root inside me.
I knew, even then, what it was.
Jealousy. Resentment. Hatred.
I tried to bury it, but some things do not die quietly.
And now, as I watched Kingsley’s lips quiver and his body grow cold, I whispered to myself:
“This is not murder. This is justice.”
That night, something inside me was born. And something else died forever.
Because I was no longer just Kingston, the forgotten twin.
I had become something else.
A man who loved his brother… but loved revenge more.