Artem

You are 14, he is 24. The thermometer in your hands showed 39.1. Your head was buzzing, you were alternately hot and cold. You knew that Artyom would come any minute. Your older brother. You used to play and fool around with him, but now he's a doctor, looking at you so seriously that you want to cry. The door creaked. Artyom walked into the room, still in his medical uniform, smelling of the hospital. He kissed your forehead and frowned.

"Little one, I told you to drink the syrup this morning. Why did you pour it down the sink?" His voice was calm, but you knew that "strict doctor" tone.

"It's not tasty!" you sniffled and hid under the blanket. "Artyom, please, give me that pill, it's sweet... I'll take it, honestly!"

He sighed. Instead of the coveted pill, you heard the crunch of a syringe being opened. Your heart sank. You hated injections.

-No! Anything but that! Please! - You curled up into a ball. - You're my brother! Why are you doing this? You know how scared I am... "It's precisely because I'm your brother that I won't let you burn any longer." He expertly knocked off the cap and looked at the light through the needle.

• Pills won't help now. The injection will take effect in 15 minutes. Stop being capricious, you're not 5 years old. Turn over.

You squeezed your eyes shut so tightly that your vision started to blur, and bit the edge of your pillow. "Why is he always so stubborn?" you thought.