I wrapped my hands around my brother's throat and started to tighten them. "Die, monster, die!" I screamed. Peter spun out of my grasp. "Danielle, give me a break," he groaned, rubbing his throat. "You're about as funny as head lice." My friend Addie laughed. She thinks everything Peter says is funny. "I know what we can do for the talent show at school," I told her. "A magic act. We can make Peter disappear." Peter stuck his tongue out at me. It was purple from the grape soda he was drinking. Mom appeared in the kitchen carrying a tall stack of dinner plates. She set them down on the counter next to the piles of bowls and cups she had unpacked. She blew a strand of hair off her forehead and frowned at me. "Danielle, stop saying things like that about your little brother. You'd feel terrible if anything happened to Peter." "Yeah. Terrible," I said, rolling my eyes. "But I'd get over it in a minute or two." "Mom, do you know what Danielle said?" Peter asked in a tiny, hurt voice. "She said her birthday wish is to be an only child!" Mom scowled at me. "You didn't really say that to Peter, did you?" "Of course not," I replied, glaring at Peter, who was still pretending to be hurt. "I mean, maybe I said it. But it was just a joke." "Your face is a joke!" Peter said. Addie laughed again. Why does she think Peter is such a riot? Why do all my friends think he's so adorable and funny? Mom narrowed her eyes at me. "Danielle, you're fifteen and Peter is nine. You're supposed to be the grown–up. You have to take care of him." "No problem," I said. I raised my hands to strangle him again. "I'll be glad to take care of him!" I dove at him. Peter laughed and squirmed away. It was the kind of kidding around brothers and sisters do all the time. Nothing to it, really. It was all so innocent and good–natured. I had no idea what was to come in the next few days. I had no idea I really was about to lose my brother. TM & © 2000 Parachute Publishing, L.L.C."