The Bitter Taste

Chapter 2

The door opened, relieving him from his thoughts and the nightmarish creature hunting him. His mother peered in; her eyes blank as she stared into the room she despised.

"Benji?" his mother called from behind the door in a whisper. He rested the side of his head onto his knee, listening to his mother as she continued, "It's time to get up." Without another word, his mother slammed the door, leaving him with the darkness of his room.

She was tired. That was clear.

Bags populated under her bottom lashes, making her once blue eyes dull grey. Not an ounce of color flourished in her cheeks giving them the appearance of being dreadfully pale.

He knew why the spark from her had faded and didn't blame her for being so short with him.

Ever since the disappearance of his older brother, his mother had never been the same. She changed completely, considering her sons were the biggest piece of her in the beginning.

Benji wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, looking at the clear tears through the darkness. He blinked, struggling to sit on his knees to regain his stature.

Reaching outward, he took a hold of the small handle, lifting the blinds, and with a swift pull, light flooded into the room, blinding him.

It was morning.

Though he still had the horrible nightmares plaguing his sleep, he had not woken up from the terrors and that was a win in his book. He had finally had a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

Months ago, when his brother went missing, his nightmares would contain his face. Presently, his dreams evolved, showing him a deeper evil lurking within himself. He could not handle those, the ones haunting him even more than his reality.

I can't do this anymore!" shouted a familiar male voice, taking him away from his thoughts.

Benji leaned in, listening to the voice ring from outside the thin walls of his room. They were muffled. So much that he was unable to hear a thing.

Getting out of his bed, he stumbled, still wearing the clothes from the day before. A black hoodie―entirely too big―and a pair of worn dark jeans draped over his feet.

He walked over to the door slowly, careful not to step on the creaky floorboard always giving him away. Tiptoeing around it, he pressed his ear to the door, listening to what his father was saying, but he couldn't hear his voice anymore.

Instead, his mother's sorrow-struck one replaced it. "They've closed the case."

Benji's small heart thumped knowing exactly what his parents were talking about.

"Dammit!" his father yelled, banging his fist fiercely against the wooden table. The sound resounded throughout their small home then disappeared.

Benji cracked the door open slowly, listening intently. Gently, he pushed against the knob, exposing himself to the small white hallway plagued with photos of his older brother, Noah.

He was not on the wall with his brother, not as if it mattered to him anyway. His older brother was, after all, the perfect child, and the pride and joy of the family.

Staring at the photos, he noticed in each picture was a perfect Noah. His hair whisked to the side in brown mussed locks sweeping across his forehead. The hairs hanging hid away sparkling golden irises while his heart-shaped face stood out. Benji noticed his high cheekbones lifted when Noah smiled, it made him feel like he would be okay today.