Brahms Heelshire - Lamb to the slaughter

Part Sixteen - Sober days

Brahms' shaggy head of hair turns a little in my way as the slow tempo of a song played by a piano comes from the record player. I can't hear the sound of the seconds ticking past, the grandfather clock in the distance being drowned out by gentle notes being tempted out of a hardwood contraption by the slim fingers of invisible hands. Yet still the person I was hired to babysit stands in his spot and doesn't move from it. He reminds me of a fragile little bunny that can sense the danger of the oncoming car but doesn't know what will happen when it gets to him.

I want to ask him questions. Hear him speaking words of what once happened before the fire and the scaring. Explain what he did or didn't do. But what to ask him? Where do I start? What can I say that won't cause him to lash out? I can't risk him going into another fit. I know he is way stronger and that if he wanted to, he could do serious damage and I'd not be able to fight back.

I know that I can't go asking him about his past in case of him losing control of his temper. But yet I don't want him not being able to open up about the life he had before the one he has been imprisoned to now. This is no way for anyone to live; Trapped up within the walls of your home for most of your life. Then again, I could be looking too deep into this. Maybe Brahms was guilty of the crime of killing that girl all those years ago. If so, that would mean that Malcom only felt like I needed to know what happened.

So if Brahms is guilty, that would mean that his parents knew that he wasn't in the right state of mind when he did it and still hid him away anyways. If he did do it, he was denied the chance of getting physiological help he clearly needed both then and most likely even now. There must have been warning signs that told them something was wrong with Brahms before his fatal 8th birthday. He must have given off at least some strange behaviour before the attack on Emily. No one just ends the life of another for the fun if it. Especially a little boy.

Right?

It takes me a short while before I notice that Brahms has shifted within the room and has come closer, now sitting at my feet, looking up at me with the same green eyes that were painted and framed in his childhood. But again, I notice the difference between the eyes of the adult before me and how they differ to what they were like before. As much as I'd like to believe that he's not still some little boy who has spent his whole life being doted on and spoiled practically rotten by both mother and father, he is. Or at least he is when placed in certain situations.

Considering his.... 'childish' behaviour when I asked him if he wanted to help me, it's clear that he never fully developed mentally when inside the walls. The image of him over me in the bedroom comes to mind. I remember the way I felt after the death of Janet; Of needing to clean myself with bleach to wash away this feeling of... Guilt? Confusion? What is this? I'm not sure, I wasn't when I felt it then either.

Brahms lays his head on my lap, looking forwards now instead of up at me. If his parents couldn't care enough to make sure he was raised with some form of morals then maybe I can try and teach him at least one or two things while I have the chance to. "Is there anything your mother or father have you do around the house?"

He shakes his head a little. "Nothing. They would even hire nannies to look after me hand and foot. I can barely even cook for myself."

I tell him how he needs to learn to look after himself without the help of others. He pouts slightly before he agrees with me. A few seconds go by before I think of something and inform him about it. "I'm going to let you do certain things around the house, things you should know how to do by now and what you really should be doing unprompted."

Brahms just nods. A few quiet minutes go by and I start playing with his hair.

A couple of days go by with me giving Brahms multiple little jobs to do. Each time I get different reactions, some positive and others not so good. But non of them are as violent as the one he had last time.