Dream Threads

(This short story was prompted by an activity in my Creative Writing Class. Each student recalled a dream that they'd once had, and then selected their favorite sentence from that recollection. Afterwards we each chose two of the sentences - one to start our stories with, and one to end it - the challenge comes from filling in the body with details to connect the thoughts in a way that makes sense. Word Count: 278.)

Family Tradition
The faint sound of people breaking into the strange house. A group of exploratory teenagers looking for a thrill.
"This is illegal... We shouldn't be here. It's trespassing." One of the boys mumbled.
"Yeah, and super creepy..." A girl added, clinging to the arm of her boyfriend, "Haven't you heard what they say about this place? About what they found? All the... Bodies..." Her voice trailed off with fear.
"You two need to quit being such scaredy-cats!" Said the group leader as he smirked at his friends. "Those are just rumors that homeless people made up so that no one would bother them when they sleep here at night. Just imagine what cool, old stuff could be stashed in here!" He reassured the group.
I watched my brother's face twist into a devilish grin as the teenagers' dialogue dragged on. He clutched a crusty, blood caked bat to his chest as his fingers fidgeted with anticipation. I looked down at the shiny, new machete in my hands. My knuckles were white with fear...
My stomach churned when I looked back up at my brother. He was no longer smiling. Judging by his expression, I guess it had become obvious to him that I was going to back out again.
"Don't be such a scaredy-cat." He mouthed in a mocking manner.
Before I could do anything to reply, he sprinted around the corner.
I heard the teens' screams cut short, one blunt whack at a time, and the guilt overcame me yet again. My father was going to be so disappointed in me...
Maybe one day I'll become what my family wants me to be.